Editorial

I am writing this editorial as the year draws to a close, a year which has seen extraordinary political and social upheaval in Europe and the US, the mass migration of people fleeing war and oppression in Africa and the Middle East, and acts of terrorism in countries across the globe.¹ What these events seem to have in common is an expression of people’s need, individually and collectively, to be heard, for their grief, their anger, their fear, their hopes to be recognised in a world that seems to be constantly preoccupied elsewhere. For many of us, the strength and the urgency of this demand has taken us by surprise. The decision to leave Europe and the results of the US presidential elections alone have revealed that vast swathes of even our own societies feel excluded, unheard and unseen by those in power. The result of this seems to be ever-increasing fragmentation, polarisation and, inevitably, extremism.

In the midst of all of this, I have often been reminded of the paper that Frank Lowe published in this journal in August 2013 (Vol. 19.3). Reflecting on the 2011 riots, he wrote,

Those who rioted … were through projection being asked to also carry unwanted feelings for the dominant groups in society and for society as a whole, such as guilt about its own lack of responsibility, compassion and destructiveness (p. 282)

He reflected on the idea that society seemed to be in the grip of paranoid-schizoid thinking, splitting and projecting unbearable feelings in order to avoid confronting them in ourselves. The riots, he argued, were symptomatic of a widespread malaise which affects us all and ‘an unconscious request for its recognition, understanding and thoughtful containment’. This issue is primarily about exactly this – our need for connection, to feel seen and heard by others, and the ways in which we unwittingly miss each other.

We open with a paper by Peter Heinze, ‘Psychopathy, Unconscious Shame and Attachment: considering the psychodynamics of psychopathy’. In this paper, Heinze provides a rich and comprehensive overview of recent research into psychopathy, noting how elusive it remains as a concept after more than two decades of intense scrutiny. What’s curious, he observes, is that unconscious shame, which has received so much attention in other aspects of emotional development, seems to have been largely overlooked in efforts to understand ‘the etiology, dynamics, assessment and treatment of the psychopathic personality’.

Quoting Nathanson, who suggests that ‘Most of the problems of interpersonal life can be traced to shame-based issues’ (Nathanson, 1992), he goes on to suggest that ‘The extant psychopathy literature is essentially descriptive … limited in terms of a deeper analysis of possible psychological dynamics’ in part, perhaps, because there is an underlying assumption that psychopathy is rooted in genetic or biological factors rather than environmental ones. Heinze makes a compelling argument for the possibility of working dynamically with psychopathy, of being able to elucidate the relational and developmental factors which contribute to its development in a way that would seem to allow for a deeper and more hopeful analysis and working through.

The idea that paying attention to developmental dynamics might enable us to overcome often deeply unconscious fractures in our relationships with one another is continued in our second paper, Margaret Moore’s ‘Changing Lives in the Classroom’. In this thoughtful and often moving paper, Moore recalls starting work as a teacher of vulnerable young people (school refusers) with little idea what to expect. She writes with great empathy and sensitivity of the young people she encounters, the complexity of their lives and the challenges they, and she, face in engaging with the task of learning.

I was struck by the extent to which Moore understands this as a joint project, as much hers as theirs. In fact, it is her openness and willingness to acknowledge her own not-knowing which made this paper so engaging for me. Anxious that she might be ‘burdening … rather than teaching’ her students, Moore recalls that she enrolled on a course at the Tavistock Clinic in London, hoping to learn a more helpful way of responding to their needs but, again, not entirely sure what this might involve. Here, she encountered ideas which, though familiar to many of us, take on a different kind of vitality when described through the eyes of someone coming to them for the first time,

Initially, I found it difficult not to be overwhelmed by my pupils’ communications, which were mostly in the form of intense projections … By applying a psychoanalytical framework, I have become more adept at wondering about my responses. I now realise the importance of being able to reflect, not react … it is my psychodynamic understanding that has enabled me to contain the difficulties that otherwise de-rail the normal aspirations

This phrase ‘normal aspirations’ resonates with the third of our papers, Nicolas Gent’s, ‘How are recent changes to primary care mental health provision within the NHS affecting psychodynamic counsellors’ construction and management of their professional identities? A Foucauldian perspective’. In this paper, Gent presents a piece of research into the experience of psychodynamic counsellors working in the NHS. The research, he explains, uses a Foucauldian lens to particularly focus on the way in which psychodynamic counsellors working in this context construct and maintain a sense of professional identity. Foucault is interested in the relationship between the individual and the institution and the extent to which the individual’s sense of self is defined by the way in which they internalise the demands of the perceived site of power or authority.

The paper includes an overview of the current state of psychological therapies in the NHS, and the literature surrounding this, and draws attention to the fact that the increasing emphasis on short-term interventions and measurable outcomes sits uneasily with many psychodynamically-trained counsellors who can, as a result, feel compromised in their work and ambivalent about the task at hand. Ultimately, however, this is a hopeful paper, which speaks to the individual’s capacity to find meaning and purpose in their work in spite of, and often through active engagement with, the challenges imposed by the wider institution,

professionals can simultaneously accept and resist a dominant discourse, thereby creating a sense of identity that is both pluralistic and fluid, meaning that individuals can respond to changes in their work environment and actively participate in the construction of their identity

This, of course, speaks to something much deeper about the human experience: the possibility that by tolerating discomfort and engaging thoughtfully and creatively with the challenges we face in our efforts to pursue our ‘normal aspirations’ we might actually be able to thrive and to connect with one another in even the most unlikely of circumstances.

Our fourth and final main paper, ‘Soul Murders, Wolf Mother: re-reading the Mowgli stories, the Indian geography and psychoanalytic perspective on The Jungle Book’ by Amrita Narayanan, originally given as a talk at Kipling in India: India in Kipling, the Indian Institute of Advanced Study, Shimla, (26–28 April 2016),² continues this theme. Narayanan’s paper is beautiful and thought-provoking, a rich exploration of the relatively uncharted territory of cultural psychoanalysis which invites us to return to the India of Kipling’s early childhood and the original Mowgli stories to which this gave rise.

Narayanan notes that, whilst many of us feel we know The Jungle Book, relatively few of us have actually read it and those of us who have, even some of the great psychoanalysts of the last two centuries, including Freud himself, have done so through a particular lens. What I found most striking about this is the idea that we have continued to perceive Mowgli’s story as one of consolation, of reparation for loss as he gains mastery over his environment through the friendship and tutelage of the animals who become his guardians. This, Narayanan gently points out, is not the conclusion of the original stories – and the fact that it is not, she suggests, is what allows these stories to transcend their nineteenth century origins and to speak powerfully to a postcolonial world in search of a language with which to express the trauma of loss and to begin a process of ‘un-murdering the soul’.

Perhaps very appropriately, following on from this, the first of our Open Space papers by Val Parker, ‘The Individual is ‘an Artificial though Plausible Abstraction’ (Foulkes, 1948): The Relevance of Foulkes’s Group-Analytical Ideas in our World Today’, asks the question, ‘Can we exist in isolation?’ Parker observes that whilst, in many ways, we have less and less practical need to leave the comfort of our own homes, the need for human connectedness, as recognised in the Mowgli stories and manifest today in the irresistible draw of social media, is as powerful as ever.

Foulkes, writing in the 1940s, argued that it is impossible to separate the individual from his environment and noted that psychoanalysis was yet to accord this social aspect of human existence as much weight as the instinctual one with which it was preoccupied at the time. He insisted that, ‘the social aspect of human behavior is basic and central, and not of a peripheral, comparatively superficial, nature, not a later coming, additional, conditioning “outside” influence’ (Foulkes, 1948).

In this rich and compelling paper, Parker interweaves the ideas of Foulkes with those of Erikson, Einstein, Elias, Bateson, Winnicott, Klein and Mitchell, to urge us to pay attention to this need for connectedness, which seems to be under such relentless pressure at present, socially, politically, economically and culturally,

If we pay more attention to how our internal worlds have been shaped and distorted by separation and isolation we may be better able to help our patients live harmoniously and peacefully within and alongside their families and communities

How much of a part, Parker wonders, might this yearning for a sense of identity and belonging, in the absence of structures which once gave a sense of community and cohesion, contribute to the increasing polarisation and extremism noted at the start of this piece?

Our second Open Space paper, ‘A Life Free from Care – the Hermit and the Analyst’, is based on a talk given by David Henderson at Merton 100: Living the Legacy, the 14th General Meeting of the International Thomas Merton Society (4–7 June 2015). In this playful but erudite paper, Henderson explores parallels between the life of the hermit and that of the analyst, and the unique, often counter-cultural, place that each occupies in society.

Henderson suggests that part of the allure, the mystery, of both the hermit and the analyst is their insistence on dwelling literally and/or metaphorically outside the normal ebb and flow of life. They maintain, he argues, a certain unknowability which allows them to be used in a particular way by their followers and patients, as a bridge between the unfathomable and the familiar. Interestingly, in light of our previous paper, he notes that, in spite of their seeming separateness, evidence and experience tells us that in fact they spend a great deal of time in contact with others and that they too must find ways to remain connected,

Hermits and analysts read in order to feed their minds and spirits, and to humanise their solitude

Even hermits, it would seem, cannot exist in isolation.

Finally, we come to our book reviews, which invite us to engage with some remarkable writing and research whilst also proving enlightening and thought-provoking in their own right. Many of the books reviewed in this issue complement the papers. Two of the books reviewed focus on education, one arguing the case for greater recognition of the particular impact of boarding school, whilst the other urges a more nuanced and thoughtful response to the needs of individual children struggling with learning difficulties. Together with a fascinating collection of papers on infant development, these speak to the importance of creating an environment for children and young people which facilitates integration and the emergence of a healthy sense of self and connectedness with others. One of the books reviewed brings a psychodynamic lens to bear on our relationship with social media whilst another is a timely and important review of current analytic thinking about sexuality. Having considered the relationship between shame and psychopathy, it is interesting to find a book which offers a framework for working with schizophrenia and psychoses from a self-psychology perspective. And, finally, most appropriately perhaps to the themes running through this issue, we have a review of Bion’s essential ideas, particularly in relation to groups.

Henderson mentions a line from William Nicolson’s play, Shadowlands, in which C.S. Lewis observes that, ‘We read to know that we are not alone’. The practice of psychotherapy can feel like a very solitary endeavour but it is a practice which, from its earliest inception, has thrived on the sharing of experience and ideas. I am constantly fascinated by the new writing which emerges from our field and constantly frustrated by the lack of time to really engage with it – and yet I know that it is this connection with others, through reading, supervision, reflection and conversation, both within and outside the consulting room, which enriches and enlivens my work.

Parker notes,

The notion that we can live without others is an artificial abstraction leading to the confused paradigm of our modern existence. We are inherently interdependent and much of the psychological distress that we see in the world today emanates from the struggle to find a sense of belonging and place in our current world

In the face of this struggle, paranoid-schizoid thinking can be seductive, allowing as it does an uncomplicated splitting of those around us into like me and not like me. But we know that this is an illusion. Splitting and projecting what feels unbearable to us disconnects us, not only from others but also from aspects of ourselves. The papers in this issue encourage us that if we can instead tolerate anxiety and ambivalence, if we can respond to the angry, fearful acting out we encounter in ourselves and in others with recognition, understanding and thoughtful containment, a renewed and more deeply rooted sense of identity and connectedness might become possible.

Mischka Byworth
University of Oxford
[email protected]

Notes

1. According to Wikipedia, this has included: Somalia Libya, Israel, Iraq, Afghanistan, France, India, the West Bank, Pakistan, Nigeria, the US, Egypt, Turkey, Yemen, Cameroon, Indonesia, Burkina Faso, Syria, Laos, Saudi Arabia, Chad, Mali, Ireland, Burundi, Russia, the UK, Bangladesh, the Philippines, Germany, Thailand, the Netherlands, Congo, Tunisia, Uruguay, South Sudan, Cote d’Ivoire, Canada, Niger, Belgium, Rwanda, Tunisia, Peru, Kenya, Central African Republic, Ukraine, Tanzania, Georgia, South Africa, Sudan, Dagestan, Kazakhstan, Jordan, Malaysia, Madagascar, Myanmar, Lebanon, Kuwait, Bahrain, Venezuela, Mozambique, Taiwan, Cambodia, Paraguay, Angola, Armenia, Colombia, Northern Ireland, Crimea, Palestine, Australia, Bolivia, Tunisia, Kyrgyzstan, Italy, Mexico, Serbia, Finland, Hungary, Italy, Morocco, Georgia, Belarus, Algeria, Iran, Abkhazia, Chile and Greece (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_terrorist_incidents,_2016).

2. In association with the Kipling Society, United Kingdom.