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New Perspectives in Metapsychology TodayFrank A. Gerbode, M.D.IntroductionI am a psychiatrist, trained at Stanford and Yale. I have made it a lifetime purpose to discover, invent, and develop helping techniques that are easy to use, easy to teach, and can significantly improve the quality of life in a short period of time. This search has led to Traumatic Incident Reduction (TIR) and related techniques which I developed with the aid of colleagues, including Marian Volkman, from whom you will hear more later. But along the way, I had to undergo a complete transformation in my orientation. Today, I would like to speak about metapsychology and its role in providing a new viewpoint of the entire process by which one person can help another to improve the quality of life.
The medical model has persisted to this day, and now, as in DSM-IV,
we see a wide variety of human characteristics and behaviors being
labeled as symptoms of "mental illness". The client receiving help is a
"patient", i.e., a passive recipient, of a "treatment", i.e., an
externally caused intervention, to handle a "mental Illness". And this
action has to be done by a doctor-like "therapist", who, although
usually not an actual physician, has to "diagnose" and "treat" the
patient, just as a doctor would. Therapists, in this view, are
conceptually paramedical personnel, like physical therapists,
occupational therapists, nurses, and the like.
However much of an improvement this medical model of help was over
the earlier approach, it contains serious flaws. The first of these is
that it violates the common-sense view of what help is.
What does it really mean to help someone? In reality, helping
someone is not doing something to that individual, nor is it deciding
what will be helpful to do to the person's environment. Real help
consists of finding out what a person's intentions are and taking action
in cooperation with that individual toward the fulfillment of those
intentions. In other words, the client provides the primary impetus or
causation, and the role of the helper (whom we will call the
"practitioner") is merely to facilitate the action that the client is
doing. In the model of external causation, the primary authority - the
primary author of the action - is the practitioner, and the client is
passively receiving the help, or at best "cooperating" with the
practitioner. In fact, in this model, the client is helping the
practitioner, rather than the other way around!
Truly helping someone begins by assigning authority to that person,
and the help is about facilitating the action that the client is doing.
In other words, in a real helping situation, the practitioner has a
subsidiary role, one of facilitating the fulfillment of the client's
intention.
One problem with the medical model lies with the concept of
"normality". From the person-centered viewpoint, it is up to the client
to decide what she wants to have in the way of behaviors, emotions, and
thoughts. It is the facilitator's job to help the client achieve them.
In the medical model, the therapist may end up working against what the
patient wants.
The medical model is entirely a negative gain model. Its definition
of health is "the absence of illness". There is no prescription for or
accounting for the possibility of a positive direction in which growth
might occur, beyond normality. And that's a problem because - let's
face it - the normal state of affairs for humankind is none too good.
The personal growth model we espouse in metapsychology-based
methodologies is superior to the healing or therapeutic model, in this
respect. It allows for an indefinite amount of positive gain - how much
depends entirely on how far the viewer is willing to go and how much he
or she is willing to put into it.
Furthermore, improvement is not the attainment of a fixed condition
of "normality" or even "enlightenment" but a betterment in one's current
condition.
A practical problem with the model of external causation is that it
is inefficient. If everyone's life can only be improved by the
intervention of an external "expert", then a great number of people are
not going to enjoy an improvement in their life condition, because there
are simply not enough experts around to cause those changes, compared
with the number of individuals that need help.
Also, when speaking of helping someone with mental or emotional
conditions, the practitioner has no direct access to or influence over
the mental and emotional state of the client. It's hard to "treat"
emotions, attitudes, thoughts, and feelings because they are invisible
to that practitioner. Everything has to be done by the client, actually
- all the observing and all of the changing. The practitioner can only
facilitate something that the client has to do for herself. The only
direct effect a practitioner can have over the client's mental and
emotional state is by administration of drugs - a fact that may explain
the prevalence of administering medications in today's practice.
I am proposing a shift of the locus of authority and causation to the
client, what Rogers calls a "person-centered" orientation.
In 1950, Carl Rogers published Client-Centered Therapy, in which he
challenged the medical model and its Copernican roots. In Rogerian
work, the therapist is a person whom Rogers - appropriately - refers to
as a "facilitator". The facilitator's role is to respect the authority
of the client and to work in a non-directive fashion, accompanying the
client on a journey of exploration though her world of experience,
providing only empathic reflection of what the client says. The client
thus occupies a central and authoritative place in her own universe.
Rogers sought to replace the medical model with one of personal
growth, and he refused to consider that a doctor would have any
particular claim to expertise in handling the cognitive, emotional, and
behavioral difficulties that individuals experience in their lives. To
the end of his days, he eschewed labels and diagnoses, and he was ever a
champion of the lay practitioner, who would play the role of a
facilitator of personal growth, instead of that of a doctor treating an
illness, and he was equally a champion of the basic wisdom, authority,
and goodness of the client as the basic agent in personal growth.
And indeed, the Rogerian approach is very congenial and creates a
wonderfully safe session environment, since clients do well in an
environment that respects their importance and their ability to be the
primary cause in their universe. The non-directiveness of the Rogerian
approach, however, makes it too unstructured and unfocused to handle
serious problems like PTSD in a reasonable period of time.
The challenge, then, is to find an approach that is structured and
methodical, yet remains completely person-centered. At first sight,
they seem incompatible.
The answer lies in the fact that there is a difference between
"person-centered" and "non-directive".
Note that different therapeutic modalities can fit into different
categories [Figure 6]. Rogerian facilitation, for example, is both
person-centered and non-directive. Psychoanalysis, curiously, is the
opposite: it s not person-centered because of the interpretation
involved, but it is also not directive, because one is supposed to
free-associate in an undirected fashion. Metapsychology-based
techniques fit into the remaining quadrant. It is quite possible to be highly directive, so long as the
directions one gives do not intrude on the belief system of the viewer.
Any set of directions presupposes a belief system, but the trick is to
find aspects of human experience that are experienced by all people and
would, of necessity, be part of anyone's belief system. Not everyone,
for instance, believes in Jungian archetypes or the Freudian Superego,
but everyone has - and therefore believes in the existence of -
feelings, emotions, sensations, mental pictures of one sort or another,
memories, and other incontrovertible elements of human experience. In
his search for something that one could be entirely sure of, Descartes
came up with the concept that the one thing we could be sure of is that
we think. It is literally inconceivable to disbelieve in the existence
of thought. The very thought that thought does not exist is itself a
thought and refutes the hypothesis! Without having to get that tricky,
however, we can say that it would be equally true to say, "I feel,
therefore I am," "I perceive, therefore I am,", "I remember, therefore I
am." In fact you could give a long list of basic elements of experience
that must exist in order for us to live life at all. It is perfectly
possible to refer to such elements in providing structure and giving
directions without leading the client to any particular kind of
conclusion. In Traumatic Incident Reduction, for instance, once the client has come up with an
incident to work on, we can ask the client when it happened, how long it
lasted, etc., without intruding, so long as we accept the client's
answers without question, and without in any way interpreting their
meaning or value. In other words, a systematic examination of the elements that are in
common in all human experience is invaluable as the basis for any
person-centered, yet structured and focused, helping method. We have
adopted Freud's term, "metapsychology" to describe this study, bending
his usage somewhat, but preserving his sense that metapsychology is
what, of necessity, should lie behind any psychological system and
practice. Lacking such a foundation would be like trying to play chess
without clearly defining what the pieces are and the rules by which they
move. Only when you know the pieces and their moves, can you start
mapping out effective winning strategies, or, indeed, play the game at
all.
Human experience and the human mind seems, at first, too ephemeral,
complex, and chaotic to be subjected to systematic study, but it only
appears so because the terminology used to refer to mental and
experiential entities is often vague, inconsistent, and not agreed-upon.
Basically, the fields of psychiatry, psychology, and psychotherapy
constitute a Tower of Babel, in which there is a plethora of warring
theoretical and conceptual structures and no experientially-based,
mutually agreed upon lexicon in which people who want to communicate
scientifically about human experience can speak to and understand each
other.
In order to have a coherent basis for agreement, we need to identify
the elements of experience that are universal and hence, when clearly
defined, can be the basis for the agreement that is so sadly lacking in
the helping professions. This is the purpose and task of
metapsychology.
In metapsychology, therefore, you will find that, as in the physical
sciences, every term is carefully defined before it is used. With
careful attention to precise definition of terms, patterns emerge from
the chaos, and it becomes apparent that the world of experience,
including the mind, is not chaotic at all, but has a definite structure
and set of laws by which it operates. When the structure and laws of
experience are understood, they provide clear guidance toward the
development of structured and effective helping techniques like TIR. A central metapsychological principle, for instance, is that in
order to be aware of or to act on anything, there must be a distance
between oneself and the object of awareness or action. If I am not
separated in any way from the blackboard - if my eyeballs are glued to
it, say - I will not be able to perceive it. In other words, I cannot
perceive anything that I am being or that is part of me. If, in my
experience, something is inside me, i.e., within the boundary that
separates what is me from what is not me, I cannot observe it. Now,
suppose we look at the world from a person-centered viewpoint [Figure
7]. The person is at the center of her world of experience, surrounded
by elements in her environment, by things that are part of her world.
These would include trees, houses, other people, and the like, but
certain mental elements are equally a part of a person's world - things
like ideas, emotions, feelings, and memories consisting of mental
pictures of the past. In conventional therapy, one often asks the
client to look inward to find these mental entities, but it should now
be obvious from the foregoing discussion that if these elements of
experience were truly inside the boundary that separates self from
non-self, the client could not perceive them. Since, in our work with
clients, we are going to ask the client to look at things like ideas and
feelings, then they must not be inside but a part of the client's
environment. This may seem to be a trivial quibble, but it is not. It
entails a profound change in the way we look at human nature. If we
expect clients to examine the mental disturbances that are ruining their
lives, we must consider that these disturbances are not part of the
client but, rather, part of the client's environment.
In other words, in working with a client, we are not trying to change
her, or even to get her to change herself. The client - the person -
does not contain any of the imperfection with which she is surrounded.
The client is basically good, as Rogers always said. With Rogers, that
statement is an article of faith, but now we can see why it is the case.
In fact, the client is basically perfect, in the person-centered view,
because any imperfection we might want the client to work on must be
conceived as outside the client - part of the client's environment, not
part of the client. Instead of trying to change the client, we are
giving the client tools with which to engage in an environmental cleanup
in her mental - and possibly her physical and social - environment.
This is the nature of the alliance that is formed between the
now-present client and the practitioner - both are involved in the
cleanup, and each has a specific role to play in this alliance, as we
shall see.
In taking the person-centered approach, we are not just being
humanistic, warm, and fuzzy. We are adopting the only practical
approach.
Practically speaking, what do we have to work with in a session [Figure
8]? Practically speaking, no one knows better than the client what the
client is experiencing or what it means. And no one can change the
client's life and experience directly without going through the client.
Thus, from a practical viewpoint, everything important done to help a
client must be done by the client. It is the client, not the
facilitator, who must become aware of what they need to be aware of; it
is the client who must gain control over emotions and other aspects of
her experience.
Therefore, in respecting and working with the client's awareness and
ability, we are only doing what is practical.
An objective, manipulative approach works well with physical objects
but poorly with people. If someone's life is to change for the better,
it is that person who must change it, from that person's point of view.
For instance, to take a relatively trivial example, if you want to help
someone play better tennis, you must work with elements of experience
that they are aware of. Although neuromuscular changes are no doubt
taking place during the game, in coaching, you must somehow bring it
down to an experiential level - perhaps getting them to relax, to follow
through, to shift their weight in a certain way. The person-centered
approach is inherent in any effective training or, indeed, any form of
personal enhancement.
In TIR and related techniques, there is a definite division of labor [Figure 9]. We call the work the client does "viewing", because the main tool we
give the client is various systematic ways of directing his awareness
toward his experience. For the same reason, we call the client the
"viewer".
What the practitioner does is to facilitate the process of viewing by
structuring the session, offering the viewer the appropriate tools in
the appropriate order, by providing a safe space in which, without
distractions, the viewer can freely view, by communicating effectively
and being a good listener, and by giving the viewer a workable
methodology with which to address his issues - viewing techniques. Thus
we call a practitioner of metapsychology-based techniques a
"facilitator", following Rogers' usage.
The viewer is like an executive - she has all the important ideas and
does the important things that need to be done. The facilitator is like
a secretary - he keeps track of what is being done in the session and
provides a structure in which the executive - the viewer - can work
effectively. The facilitator, like a secretary, has a subordinate role,
but, like a secretary, he can and should be highly skilled. Thus we
provide Communication Exercises to sharpen up communication skills,
Rules of Facilitation that will ensure a safe space, and training in the
metapsychology-based theory and methodology that the facilitator will
need to use in a session.
The viewer also becomes increasingly skilled in doing her job -
finding and viewing elements of experience, acquiring insight from so
doing, and, in the process, changing her life for the better.
These two roles and skill sets are complementary, not competitive.
The strictness of the division of labor must be absolute. If a viewer
starts to take over running the session or the facilitator starts to
offer insights or asks leading questions, the viewing process breaks
down immediately.
I have tried to present in this talk the most important thing that the
study of metapsychology has to offer: a profound reorientation in our
view of the helping process, an Anti-Copernican revolution in which the
client - the viewer - once more occupies her rightful place at the
center of the life she is trying to change.
I have shown that the existence of metapsychology allows for the
creation of a highly structured, do-able, and effective methodology that
can thrive in a completely person-centered environment without
compromising its person-centeredness.
To emphasize the change in orientation that has occurred, let me list
some of the differences between the orientation of the "conventional
therapies" that characterized the twentieth century and the helping
techniques that I hope will characterize the twenty-first [Figure 10].
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