Latest / Logic Library / 05 - The Theory of Psychoanalysis - Carl Jung
Transcript
- Chapter five, The unconscious, the sphere of the unconscious infantile fantasies has become the real object of psychoanalytic investigation. As we have previously pointed out, this domain seems to retain the key to the etology of neurosis in contra distinction with the trauma theory. We are forced by the reasons already adduced to seek in the family history for the basis of our present psychoanalytic attitude. Those fantasy systems which patients exhibit are mirror questioning, are for the most part composed and elaborated like a novel or a drama. Although they are greatly elaborated, they are relatively of little value for the investigation of the unconscious, just because they are conscious, they have already deferred over much to the claims of etiquette and social morality. Hence they have been purged of all personally painful and ugly details, and are presentable to society revealing very little. The valuable and much more important fantasies are not conscious in the sense already defined, but are to be discovered through the technique of psychoanalysis. Without wishing to enter fully into the question of technique I must here meet an objection that is constantly heard. It is that the so called unconscious fantasies are only suggested to that patient and only exist in the minds of psychoanalysts. This objection belongs to that common class which ascribes to them the crude mistakes of beginners. I think only those without psychological experience and without historical psychological knowledge, are capable of making such criticisms. With a mere glimmering of mythological knowledge, one cannot fail to notice the striking parallels between the unconscious fantasies discovered by the psychoanalytics school and mythological images. The objection that our knowledge of mythology has been suggested to the patient is groundless, for the psychoanalytics school first discovered the unconscious fantasies and only then became acquainted with mythology. Mythology itself is obviously something outside the path of the medical man. In so far as these fantasies are unconscious, the patient, of course knows nothing about their existence, and it would be absurd to make direct inquiries about them. Nevertheless, it is often said, both by patients and by so called normal persons. But if I had such fantasy, surely I would know something about them. But what is unconscious is in fact something which one does not know. The opposition, too, is perfectly convinced that such things as unconscious fantasies could not exist. This a priority judgment is glasticism, and as no sensible grounds, we cannot possibly rest on the dogma that consciousness only is mind. When we can convince ourselves daily that our consciousness is only the stage when the contents of our consciousness appear, they are already in a highly complex form. The grouping of our thoughts from the elements supplied by our memory is almost entirely unconscious. Therefore, we are obliged, whether we like it or not, to accept, for the moment, the conception of an unconscious psychic sphere, even if only as a mere negative border conception, just as thing in itself. As we perceive things which do not have their origin in consciousness, we are obliged to give hypothetic contents to the sphere of the non conscious. We must suppose that the origin of certain effects lies in the unconscious, just because they are not conscious. The reproach of mysticism can scarcely be made against this conception of the unconscious. We do not pretend that we know anything positive or can affirm anything about the psychic condition of the unconscious. Instead, we have substituted symbols by following the way of designation and abstraction we apply in consciousness on the axiom principia pritern sitatum known suant multipleconda. This kind of ideation is the only possible one. Hence we speak about the effects of the unconscious just as we do about the phenomena of the conscious. Many people have been shocked by Freud's statement the unconscious can only wish, and this is regarded as an unheard of metaphysical assertion, something like the principle of Hartmann's philosophy of the unconscious, which apparently administers a rebuff to the theory of cognition. This indignation only arises from the fact that the critics, unknown to themselves, evidently start from a metaphysical conception of the unconscious as being an end per se, and not evily project onto us their inadequate conception of the unconscious. For us, the unconscious is no entity but a term about whose metaphysical entity we do not permit ourselves to form any idea. Contrast with those psychologists who, sitting at their desks are as exactly informed about the localization of the mind in the brain as they are informed about the psychological correlation of the mental processes. Whence they are able to declare positively that beyond the consciousness there are but physiological processes of the cortex. Such naive tape must not be imputed to the psychoanalyst. When Freud says we can only wish, he describes in symbolic terms, effects of which the origin is not known. From the standpoint of our conscious thinking. These effects can only be considered as analogous to wishes. The psychoanalytics school is moreover aware that the discussion as to whether wishing is a sound analogy can be reopened at any time. Anyone who has more information is welcome. The opponents content themselves with denial of the phenomena, or if certain phenomena are admitted, they abstain from all theoretical speculation. This last point is readily to be understood, for it is not everyone's business to think theoretically, even the man who has succeeded inferring himself from the dogma of the identity of the conscious self and the psyche. Thus, admitting the possible existence of psychic processes outside the conscious is not justified in disputing or maintaining psychic possibilities in the unconscious. The objection is raised that the psychoanalytics school maintains certain views without sufficient grounds, as if the literature did not contain abundant, perhaps too abundant, discussion of cases and more than enough arguments. But they seem not to be sufficient for the opponents. There must be a good deal of difference as to the meaning of the term sufficient in respect to the validity of the arguments. The question is why does the psychoanalytics school apparently set less store on the proof of their formulas than the critics. The reason is very simple. An engineer who has built a bridge and has worked out its bearing capacity wants no other proof for the success of its bearing power. But the ordinary man, who has no notion how a bridge is built or what is the strength of the material used, will demand quite different proofs as to the bearing capacity of the bridge, for he has no confidence in the business in the first place. It is the critic's complete ignorance of what is being done which provokes their demand. In the second place, there are the unanswerable theoretical misunderstandings, impossible for us to know them all and understand them all. Just as we find again and again in our patients new and astonishing misunderstandings about the ways and the aim of the psycho analytic method, so are the critics inexhaustible in devising misunderstandings. You can see in the discussion of our conception of the unconscious what kind of false philosophical assumptions can prevent the understanding of our terminology. It is comprehensible that those who attribute to the unconscious involuntarily an absolute entity require quite different arguments beyond our power to give. Had we to prove immortality, we should have to collect many more important arguments than if we had merely to demonstrate the existence of plasmodia in a malaria patient. The metaphysical expectation still disturbs the scientific way of thinking, so that problems of psychoanalysis cannot be considered in a simple way. But I do not wish to be unjust to the critics, and I will admit that the psychoanalytics school itself very often gives rise to misunderstandings, although innocently enough. One of the principal sources of these mistakes is the confusion in the theoretical sphere. It is a pity, but we have no presentable theory. But you would understand this if you could see in a concrete case with what difficulties we have to deal. In contradiction to the opinion of nearly all critics, Freud is no means a theorist. He is an empiricist, of which fact anyone can easily convince himself if he is willing to busy himself somewhat more deeply with Freud's works, and if he tries to go into the cases as Freud has done. Unfortunately, the critics are not willing, as we have very often heard, it is too disgusting and too repulsive to observe cases in the same way as Freud has done. But who will learn the nature of Freud's method if he allows himself to be hindered by repulsion and disgusted. Because they neglect to apply themselves to the point of view adopted by Freud, perhaps as a necessary working hypothesis, they come to the absurd supposition that Freud is a theorist. They then readily agree that Freud's three contributions to the sexual theory is a priori invented by a merely speculative brain, which afterwards suggests everything into the patient that is putting things upside down. This gives the critics an easy task, and this is just what they want to have. They paid no attention to the observations of the psychoanalysts conscientiously set forth in their histories of diseases, but only to the theory and to the formulation of technique. The weak spot of psychoanalysis, however, is not found here, as psychoanalysis is only empirical. Here you find but a large and insufficiently cultivated field in which the critics can exercise themselves to their full satisfaction. There are many uncertainties and as many contradictions in the sphere of this theory. Conscious of this long before the first critic began to pay attention to our work. End of Chapter five