Notes from Christmastide Reading: Schizophrenia, Case Formulation, Ogden, Self-Supervision, and Dead Analysts

The only time I can permit myself not to work is when I am traveling. If I am on my academic Christmas break, then I must be reading, writing, and editing. Herewith a few notes on some new, and new-to-me, books that I have recently finished over the break.

On Schizophrenia:

This is a very workmanlike little book that I immediately decided to adopt for my students in my psychopathology course. We do a special extended unit on psychotic illnesses, and I've not hitherto found a suitable book for this part of the course, making do with several articles.

I would quibble with the author for her bias that only the "medically qualified, Psychistry-trained Psychoanalyst" (titles she always capitalizes) is really equipped to handle schizophrenia--a clunky, snobby phrase used several times in a short book. I have no medical training but have nonetheless worked with cases of schizophrenia for years now. To her credit, she is aware that those with psychoanalytic training, which I do have, are also able to handle schizophrenic patients. 

Case Formulation/Conceptualization:

A supervisor of mine lamented for years that the art of case conceptualization had largely been lost, and I rather agree that in many cases it has. It is important, if only in the clinician's mind, to be able to have a relatively coherent, but dynamically flexible, succinct vision of who the patient is, what the presenting issues are, how they are bound up with personality structure and personal history, and what goals and direction treatment is taking, including its transference and counter-transference manifestations. The lack of all this immediately puts the clinician at risk for what I call therapeutic drift. 

To prevent that along comes the psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Mardi Horowitz with a handy little book suitable for students and trainees: Formulation As a Basis for Planning Psychotherapy Treatment. This is a very short workmanlike little book that would be suitable for students and trainees early on. 

André Green and Dead Parents:

Despite being once fluent in the language, I have read little of French psychoanalysis in that lovely language. Indeed, apart from the notorious (and largely unreadable) Lacan, I have had only some knowledge of a tiny number of figures such as Françoise Dolto, Élisabeth Roudinesco (author of several useful biographies, including of Freud and Lacan, and of the very valuable little book Why Psychoanalysis?), and André Green. But my ignorance of Green is slightly less deep after reading not just his most famous essay "The Dead Mother" (found in this collection) but also a book of essays devoted to that theme, The Dead Mother: The Work of André Green, ed. Gregorio Kohon. Among the virtues of this collection are essays by three of my favourite analytic writers today, Adam Phillips, Christopher Bollas, and Thomas Ogden. 

Green's concept of the dead mother has been helpful in understanding early struggles of several of my own patients. It was also very helpful in my own psychoanalysis to understand not just the emotional deadness of my mother but my father too because of several miscarriages prior to my birth, and other sudden family deaths, especially of my father's hugely idealized older brother when I was a small child. 

Thomas Ogden on Not Being Alive:

The theme of aliveness is one found in many of Ogden's writings (which, on this theme at least, bear striking similarities to Adam Phillips, as I showed here), including the essay published in 1999 in the above-noted collection. He has returned to it in his latest book, released just a few weeks ago: What Alive Means: Psychoanalytic Explorations. 

Having written many appreciative, almost fulsome, essays on Ogden, having recommended him more times than I can count to students and interns, and having bought all his other books (save for his novels), I think I am allowed at least one occasion to remark that this newest book of his is a dud. It says little he has not said elsewhere (always a danger as an author ages and his opera omnia becomes every larger, stretching back several decades), and most of this book is a rather diffident series of short commentaries on Winnicott's writings. My love of Winnicott, too, is second to none; but at some point this ground has been gone over so much by Ogden himself (to say nothing of others) that the freshness and, well, sense of aliveness that so marks Ogden's previous books, which I found exhilarating to read, is absent here, alas. Those new to Winnicott and Ogden alike might well find something useful or nourishing here, but I was quickly bored and disappointed. 

Self-Analysis and -Supervision: 

Freud, of course, first discussed and attempted to practice self-analysis and other authors, including Karen Horney, have written at length on the topic. There is some interesting recent research (which so often lags behind demonstrating what psychoanalytic clinicians have known for decades) on the reflective capacity of the clinician being a key component to the success or failure of treatment. Such a capacity is just what self-analysis and -supervision should be focused on. 

Marc Lubin and Jed Yalof have a new publication Self-Supervision Psychodynamic Strategies which offers some useful tips to clinicians. It is not a long or complicated book, making itself accessible to those new to this topic and trying to sort out some of the challenges of engaging in a self-supervision. 

Self-analysis and -supervision show up in Fred Busch's latest book How Does Analysis Cure: Essays on Psychoanalytic Method, Psychoanalytic Organizations, and Psychoanalysis. 

I have been a fan of Busch's earlier book Creating a Psychoanalytic Mind, as I showed here and here. So I hope it will not be thought an impertinence on my part to say that this new book is a bit of a mess, and only parts of it can be recommended. (The entire second and last section of the book has an infelicitous feel as Busch complains--almost gossips in public--about some rough handling by callow editors at psychoanlytic journals, and problems within psychoanalytic institutes, none of which are at all new or any great surprise to those of us paying attention since, say, 1941 or thereabouts. I am not at all clear how airing all this in public does anything to solve the problems or increase the esteem in which already battered and often justly ridiculed institutes, hidebound places of orthodoxies where none should be found, are held.) 

If we overlook the final section of Busch's book, we have some rich reflections, including the first chapter ("How Analysis Cures"--the short answer is mentalization, a word that Busch seems at pains to avoid for some reason), and the chapter on silence, as well as a chapter on self-analysis. Here, too, however, my complaint about several of these chapters is that they are too short and say too little. One has the distinct impression of an author losing steam from the beginning of this book. 

One thing that is clear in treatments of self-analysis and self-supervision is that these two are never to be exclusive substitutes for an actual personal psychoanalysis and work with a supervisor. One of the many things I admire about both Glenn Gabbard and Nina Coltart is how, even late in life, after decades of practice, they both flatly and humbly admitted, in an almost off-handed way, that with certain cases they sought out supervisors because the clinical issues were very tricky. This is something we must all consider doing when needed. 

Mechanisms of Change in Psychotherapy:

These two new books belong in the curricula of teaching institutes and graduate programs, for they contain a wealth of research, much of it quite sobering. 

I work with personality disorders, including borderline personalities as well as obsessional and compulsive personalities, about which see here for some invaluable resources. Despite being in the second-largest city in the state of Indiana, I seem to be among a very tiny handful of clinicians who treat these issues, which are, so far as I can tell, rarely discussed in the standard graduate training program in this country. (Every clinician's website I'm on seems to say the same thing: "I specialize in depression, anxiety, and trauma!" But how can it be a specialization when everybody is doing it?) So I picked up Understanding Mechanisms of Change in Psychotherapies for Personality Disorders by Ueli Kramer, Kenneth N. Levy, and Shelley McMain with great interest, and it would lend itself to incorporation into training programs.

This question of what mechanisms of change are in psychotherapy is a fascinating one in part because answering it raises some very formidable challenges to the empirical researcher. Those questions are given very substantial treatment in an enormously valuable collection edited by Louis Castonguay and Clara Hill, Becoming Better Psychotherapists: Advancing Training and Supervision. 

Particularly alarming are the several chapters devoted to exposing how little research we have on what constitutes good and useful supervision. Supervision, of course, is a standard requirement for graduation and licensing nearly everywhere, but who trains the trainers, and then who evaluates that training and those trainers? Few do, it seems. If we are to have better psychotherapists--and God knows we have nowhere to go but up on this score, as the hugely depressing, almost disgusting, data revealed by Francis Martin in Therapy Thieves has shown--then we need to train not just them but also their supervisors. But trained in what, and how, and by whom? Once again these are formidable questions without easy or quick answers. But they are crucial questions we need to be asking, and this book does so in unspairing and unsentimental ways, which we must be thankful for. 

Let me--feeling slightly sadistic--close by recommending you pick up Martin's book. He's done the heavy lifting of surveying thousands of clinicians in the United States to ferret out all the rubbish, all the chicanery, that gets passed off under the guise of "therapy." I was aware of just a handful of woo-woo examples--chakra therapy, singing bowls--but there are hundreds more, each more absurd than the last. Perhaps especially sobering is that regulating psychotherapy does little to control the growth of this nonsense. Once a clinician has a license, there seems in most if not all jurisdictions to be a tacit acceptance that whatever they want to do they can. Complaints against a license are common in custody cases, and of course for reasons of violating sexual boundaries or breaking confidentiality. But when was a clinican last challenged or brought before a disciplinary hearing for practicing (just to pick four random examples from thousands Martin has documented) bright light therapy, Shifaa soul counseling, Reiki womb therapy, or equine ecosomatics? One scarcely knows whether to laugh or throw up. 

This notion of being "evidence-based" smuggles in all sorts of covert philosophical and hermeneutical assumptions ("evidence" is never self-evident, but only ever a result of a process of interpretation which is personal and inescapable), and the refusal to recognize this is very vexing to me. So, having finished Stephen Toulmin's helpful Return to Reason over Christmas (which criticizes clinical psychology’s habit of wanting to base studies of the mind on Newtonian physics whence some wish to derive universal “laws” to the total exclusion of the case study method), my reading this spring will continue to mine the hermeneutical literature, starting with Richard Rorty's landmark book Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature; and then Paul Ricoeur's Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences: Essays on Language, Action and Interpretation. I've been reading Ricoeur off and on for more than twenty years, but never in a sustained and systematic way, as I hope to continue to do.