Balint Training System 1948

October 11, 2017 | Author: Laura Acosta | Category: Psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, Id, Mental Health, Epistemology
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1948) ON THE PSYCHO-ANALYTIC TRAINING SYSTEM. INT. J. PSYCHO-ANAL., 29:163 (IJP) ON THE PSYCHO-ANALYTIC TRAINING SYSTEM1 MICHAEL BÁLINT I It has become a commonplace to say that a new world was discovered by Freud: the world of the Unconscious. To mankind this discovery was a traumatic experience and all sorts of defensive mechanisms were mobilized against it. Gradually the defensive mechanisms gave way to a genuine interest, and recently mankind started to turn to us—as Freud is no longer among us—for information and guidance. This means that in fact we are coming to be regarded as guides by mankind. Perhaps the most relevant, though not the only function of our guiding and teaching activity, is the training of future analysts. How we discharge this duty, what results we achieve in this field, will deeply influence not only the future of our profession and of our science, but also the destiny of mankind. Considering this heavy responsibility it is surprising to discover that there is practically no literature on psychoanalytical training. In all the volumes of the Zeitschrift, Imago, Journal and Quarterly there are only two articles published on this subject. One is Dr. Sachs' posthumous paper (1947), a charming causerie of a wise old man, giving some sound advice and carefully avoiding any tricky problem. I shall come back presently to the second paper, as well as to Freud's paper: 'Analysis Terminable and Interminable', where a short chapter, in fact the shortest, consisting only of three pages, discusses the training. Probing further into the matter, I found it reported that at the Innsbruck Congress in 1927, three prominent training analysts each read a paper to the International Training Committee, i.e. only to the members of the Training Committees of the Branch Societies, not even to all 'training analysts'.

These were:


'Aufbau des

Psychoanalytischen Lehrganges', Sachs: 'Lehranalyse', H. Deutsch: 'Kontrollanalyse'. The summaries were not printed, but the report promised that all three papers would be published in full. In fact none of them has been printed. Then a long pause followed. The next record is from 1935, the first Four Countries' Conference in Vienna. The first theme for discussion was: 'Die didaktische Analyse und die Analysenkontrolle.' This meeting was open to all full members of the International Association present. The two openers were H. Deutsch and I. Hermann. Although there was a lively interest and one of the most fruitful discussions in my experience developed, we are faced with the same fate: no summaries were given and none of the papers was published. The next record is the second Four Countries' Conference in Budapest, 1937. The first theme for discussion (in fact a continuation of the discussion in Vienna) was: 'Methode und Technik der Kontrollanalyse.' The two openers were E. Bibring and K. Landauer. This time good summaries were printed and there is an admirable report summing up the discussion which was extremely sharp but friendly throughout. As yet neither of the papers has been published. The last record is that of the Paris Congress in 1938. Three papers were read, again only to the members of the International Training Committee. W. Hoffer: 'Ausbildungsgang für Pädagogen', E. Bibring: 'Annäherungsverauche


von Nicht-analytischen Psychiatern' and A. Freud: 'Nachanalysen'. Again the same picture, summaries were printed but none of the papers was ever published. In addition to these, we have Eitingon's successive reports, from the Homburg Congress in 1925 to the Paris Congress, 1938, seven of them in all, given to the International Training Committee, so to speak in camera, but printed subsequently in extenso in our official journals. They reveal a melancholy history: a beginning of great hopes, striking initial successes, then soon quite unexpected difficulties, very inefficient and muddled handling of them, and an almost complete debâcle at the end.


Paper read before the British Psycho-Analytical Society on November 5, 1947.

- 163 Dr. Jones, a critic with sharp eyes and just but uncompromising words, in his address at the opening of the Vienna Institute of Psycho-Analysis, 1936, summed up his views of the work of the International Training Committee and of its chairman thus: 'With all his (Dr. Eitingon's) enthusiasm and idealism in the matter he has to devote so much energy to the difficult problems of organization that little opportunity presents itself for getting to the real work itself. And by the real work I do not mean laying down of rules or even co-ordinating of standards in various countries, desirable as all these may be, but the close and detailed discussions of training technique.' Jones then went on to point out that it was very likely due to the lack of sufficient interest that such discussions could not be arranged. Many of us—I was one amongst them—very much disliked Dr. Jones's censuring words as well as several other things that we heard from him on that occasion. Now we have to admit that the events have proved that he was right and we were not. It is a grave warning sign that in over twenty-five years, one of the most important problems of psycho-analysis, the training, has not been discussed adequately in print, indeed hardly at all. Dr. Jones attributed it to lack of interest. I would call it a severe inhibition. It is true, as I pointed out at the beginning of my paper—that the issue is overwhelming. Firstly any justified criticism directed against training implies that some of the training analysts—especially we of the older generation—were possibly not properly trained. This is perhaps one of the reasons why it has hardly ever been openly admitted that this or that rule of our training system had to be amended, or any innovation introduced only as an experiment. Presently I shall give some concrete examples of this attitude. Secondly any discussion concerning training involves discussion of the efficiency or validity of analytic therapy in general. After all: (1) The candidates are picked material, severe neurotics and unstable characters, i.e. bad risks, are rejected at the beginning; good intelligence and some success in life, and a measure of good social adjustment are conditions of acceptance. (2) There is the further safeguard of the trial period. (3) Only our best people are chosen to act as training analysts. (4) Analysis must be continued as long as it is held necessary by the analyst; no premature break is tolerated; which means that the analyst has a much greater part in deciding when the analysis should terminate than he has with his other patients. (5) Any such decision is controlled by two or more members of the Society, chosen for this office because of their reliability. (6) Finally the decision is examined first by the Training


Committee then by the Board of Institute and lastly confirmed by the whole Society. The conditions with the average patient are less stringent, and in general less favourable. What are the results? The results are our analytical societies. Instead of describing them in my own words, I prefer to quote Freud (Analysis Terminable and Interminable, Chapter VII): 'It cannot be disputed that analysts do not in their own personalities wholly come up to the standards of psychic normality which they set for their patients. Opponents of analysis are wont to point this out derisively and use it as an argument to prove the uselessness of the analytic method.'

You know the remedy Freud recommended against this undesirable situation:


approximately every five years; a not very satisfactory solution and as far as I know, not generally accepted. But even Freud avoided probing further into the causes of the phenomenon, why analysts apparently must and do fall short of their own standards. It is an uneasy atmosphere; not only the value of our training system is at stake, but by implication the value of all analytic therapy. Such an emotionally overcharged atmosphere is not conducive to the necessary freedom of thought; on the contrary, it leads to inhibited thinking. Like every inhibition, this too is likely to be overdetermined. The aim of my paper is to enquire into the further causes of this inhibition, which prevented a proper scientific discussion of the subject of training and to show that these causes influence our present training system in an unhealthy way. We can nurse the hope that the enquiry will perhaps show why training should not be used as a representative sample of analyses conducted under exceptionally favourable conditions. II This kind of inhibited thinking is the first suspicious symptom about training. The second symptom I wish to discuss, is the tendency of our training system to be dogmatic, a tendency to be observed all over the world. This


See, however, the appendix for a brief survey of psycho-analytical training in America.

- 164 is a very important piece of evidence in favour of my idea, so I had to select convincing examples, i.e. only such facts of which I have direct knowledge. This excluded all the American Institutions of which I know but little, 2 and restricted my material to the Berlin, Vienna, London and Budapest Institutes. Of the many possible examples I have chosen the two of which I know most, because I too helped in combating them. In these two cases—at least I think so—the Hungarian un-dogmatic view won the victory. I am afraid this might cast an unfavourable light on the training in Europe apart from Hungary. To prevent this I hasten to say that my two examples mean only that here the Hungarians recognized a faulty trend somewhat earlier than the others, but—unfortunately—it cannot be said that everything else in the Hungarian training system was, or is, correct. These two examples are: (a) the duration of the training analysis, and (b) the relation of the three parts of the training to one another, especially the rôle of the control analysis in the whole system. The first statement about the duration of the training analysis came, of course, from Berlin. Eitingon, in his Report on the Berlin Institute of Psycho-Analysis in June, 1922, writes: 'We are all firmly convinced that henceforth no one who has not been analysed must aspire to the rank of practising analyst. It follows that the analysis of the student


himself is an essential part of the curriculum and takes part at the Polyclinic in the second half of the training period, after a time of intensive theoretical preparation by lectures and courses of instruction.' (When I started my training in Berlin, this was really so; but while I was still under training the system changed.) The average time of the whole training is given as one to one and a half years. The first rules of training were published from Berlin two years later, i.e. in 1924. According to those the training analysis must last at least six months; its average length, however, is not indicated but it can be calculated. The whole training is to last for about three years, of these the theoretical training needs a minimum of two terms, the control work a minimum of two years, from which it follows that the training analysis can be taken to last hardly longer than one year with a possible maximum of three years. One year later in 1925 the Vienna Institute published its rules which state quite abruptly 'Die Ausbildungszeit ist mit zwei Jahren festgelegt'. The next step was taken at the Wiesbaden Congress in 1932, where the new recommendations agreed upon by the International Training Committee were made known. According to them the whole course is to last three years, of which the theoretical training takes two years, the control work with two cases of one year each taking a little over one year. This means, conversely, that roughly one to one and a half years were calculated for the training analysis. The last step for the time being is represented by the latest edition of the Standing Rules of the London Institute of Psycho-Analysis, 1947. This states that the training analysis usually takes about four years, the theoretical course three years and the clinical work tow years. Now day after day our patients ask the same question: How long will their analysis last? No analyst ever answers that question, not even approximately. In spite of this, in our training rules from first to last we go out of our way to give such unfounded, misleading and often harmful answers even before the question has been put to us. In this case the Hungarian standpoint, as stated first by Ferenczi in 1923, was that there is no difference between training analysis and therapeutic analysis, in fact the former must go, if possible, deeper, which means that it probably must last longer.

As early as 1926, Eitingon in his Homburg Report accepted Ferenczi's view:

'Instructional analysis is simply psycho-analysis.' Since then many have repeated these words, but all the Training Institutes continue stating the likely duration of an analysis—a mistake for which any beginner would be severely criticized by his supervising analyst. The second example is the rôle of the control analysis in the structure of training. Introduced originally about 1920 in Berlin by Abraham, Eitingon and Simmel, it met with scepticism and resistance. One of the first to attack it was Ferenczi in his book Entwicklungsziele der Psychoanalyse, 1924. Another attack came from Vienna. Eitingon was from the beginning for the separation of the training and control analysts; some Viennese were strongly in favour of their being the same (this Journal, 1926, 7, 134). In spite of the scepticism and - 165 resistance the idea of the control analysis quickly gained ground and was generally accepted. Soon the control seminar was added to it, a very valuable addition originating from Vienna, if I am right, mainly under the influence of H. Deutsch and W. Reich, and developed to its present high standard by A. Freud and O. Fenichel.


Eitingon favoured the idea of organizing the psycho-analytic training system like the German Universities where the student is encouraged, almost expected, to spend a number of terms at different universities. This would mean that a training started at any psycho-analytic institute could be continued at any other. This idea was stated clearly on several occasions, e.g. in Zehn Jahre Berliner Psychoanalytisches Institut (1930):

'Jedes Stück des

Gesamtausbildungsganges kann auch ausserhalb des Berliner Psycho-analytischen Institutes absolviert werden' (p. 51). ('Any part of the training course may be taken elsewhere than in the Berlin Institute of Psycho-analysis.') The whole course consisted of the well-known three parts: training analysis, theoretical lectures and seminars, and practical work under control. Eitingon's idea was that each part should have a clear finish before the next step is to start. Most of the rules published in this time give the same impression; so those of Berlin and Vienna; as the London rules of this period were not published I do not know what was the system here. We in Hungary were always against this conception. The only scientific paper published on training, referred to in the beginning of my paper, was written to state the Hungarian system. It is V. Kovács's article: 'Training and Control Analysis' (1935).

This is a determined attack against the false conception of dividing the training into three

independent parts. The paper stressed emphatically that the practical work must begin while the candidate is still under analysis in order that his reactions to the patient's transference, i.e. his own countertransference could be analysed. And it showed convincingly why it is not advisable to leave this difficult work to the candidate singlehanded. A natural consequence of this idea is that the theoretical instruction, too, must start while the candidate is still under analysis. Further, according to the Hungarian experience the analysis of the counter-transference can be best done if the training and the control analyses are carried out by the same person, at least with the first case. The publication of the 'Hungarian system' led to sharp discussions. Eventually the first recommendation that control work must start while the candidate is still under analysis was gradually accepted all over the world and I think now there is no institute where the training would be done in a different way. The second recommendation, however, the identity of the training and control analysts, met with still stronger resistance. In fact this recommendation was the main topic of discussions at both Four Countries' Conferences. It was agreed that to the analysis of the student's reactions to his patient's transference more importance should be given in the future than hitherto, but at the same time it was stressed that teaching of analytical technique exemplified on the material of the candidate's supervized cases was equally important.

To emphasize the difference between the two tasks, the one (analysis of the

candidate's counter-transference to his patient) was called 'Kontrollanalyse' the other (teaching the student how to analyse a patient presenting different problems from his, the student's, own) was called 'Analysenkontrolle'. It soon became clear that for conducting 'Kontrollanalyse' the training analyst was the most suitable person and conversely for the 'Analysenkontrolle' he was not. Although eventually an agreement was reached that analysis of the counter-transference must form an essential part of the training, i.e. training analysis and practical work cannot be divided, no decision could be reached on the point whether the training analyst or another should begin the supervision with the candidate. There were strong arguments both for and against it. As the summary of the discussion at the second Four Countries' Conference stated we shall need further experience before coming to any decision on that point.


In spite of this, without any further published discussion the new London Standing Rules (1947) state: 'The analyst undertaking the student's personal analysis does not undertake the supervision of his cases.' So far as we know, this statement is not the result of carefully planned and controlled observations; it sounds to me like yet another dogmatic compulsory ruling. We have discussed up to now two sets of symptoms. One was the reluctance of the experts to commit any of their knowledge to print (the more remarkable as the same experts, the training analysts, are otherwise rather prolific - 166 writers). The second was a dogmatic attitude by the same experts, unknown in any other sphere of psycho-analysis. Here I have discussed in full only two examples of this dogmatism; many more could be quoted, however, if one would take the trouble to search through the Training Rules of all the Institutes. These two sets of symptoms are objective facts, easily verifiable by everyone who will take the trouble to look up our periodicals. My next thesis, unfortunately, is based only on subjective judgments. I mean the general behaviour of our candidates which I would describe as far too respectful to their training analysts. I think no analyst will have much difficulty in diagnosing the condition causing these symptoms.

The whole

atmosphere is strongly reminiscent of the primitive initiation ceremonies. On the part of the initiators—the training committee and the training analysts—we observe secretiveness about our esoteric knowledge, dogmatic announcements of our demands and the use of authoritative techniques. On the part of the candidates, i.e. those to be initiated, we observe the willing acceptance of the exoteric fables, submissiveness to dogmatic and authoritative treatment without much protest and too respectful behaviour. We know that the general aim of all initiation rites is to force the candidate to identify himself with his initiator, to introject the initiator and his ideals, and to build up from these identifications a strong super-ego which will influence him all his life. This is a surprising discovery indeed. What we consciously intend to achieve with our candidates, is that they should develop a strong critical ego, capable of bearing considerable strains, free from any unnecessary identification, and from any automatic transference or thinking patterns. Contrary to the conscious aim our own behaviour as well as the working of the training system have several features leading necessarily to a weakening of these ego functions and to the formation and strengthening of a special kind of super-ego. Strong corroborating evidence for this statement is the fact that candidates, as a whole, tend to segregate into 'genetic' groups, to be lenient towards the members of their own group and over-critical of other groups, and in general to follow their masters blindly. The very few exceptions occurring practically in every analytical society, of abrupt conversions, changing a Saul into a Paul are a further and a very strong evidence of the paramount rôle of such a super-ego formation. If my thesis is true, we understand now why the results of our training, the analysts 'do not come up to the standards of psychic normality which they set for their patients' (Freud, loc. cit.). The patients are certainly not systematically subjected to this super-ego intropression3 which hardly any candidate can evade.

We can now continue our


examination without the fear of having to roll up the still more awe-inspiring problem of the general validity of psycho-analytic therapy. Lightened of this oppressive burden, we can now turn to our next task: to examine why and how this unconscious and uncontrolled super-ego-intropression became an integral part of our training system, which means to examine its historical development. III There are two such histories. The official one, openly admitted and repeated time and again, first in Eitingon's successive reports and since then whenever anybody wanted to say anything about training. I should like to call it the exoteric history. This describes and explains the glorious successes of the system. The other history, mentioned only by Freud, and even by him only once, explains the curse of strifes which seem to adhere inevitably to our training organizations. Both histories show equally that psycho-analytic training has had three periods. Let us take first the exoteric history. The first or 'prehistoric' period can be reckoned to run till the Budapest Congress, 1918, or to the founding of the Berlin Institute, 1920. It is characterized by the fact that there was no systematic, organized training.

Both the teaching and the learning of psycho-analysis were left to individual

enterprise with no official control. The only exceptions were Freud's lectures in Vienna, in their published form even now perhaps the most stimulating, most far-reaching writing of our literature. They were, however, simply one of the many courses given by the Privat-Docents of the Vienna University, intended for university students only and never meant to give a 'training'. Everything else in this period is material for interesting, startling,


A term created by S. Ferenczi. Cf. Bausteine zur Psycho-Analyse. Berne, 1938, Vol. IV, 294.

- 167 tragic or non-essential anecdotes, which, however, would be worth while collecting. The foundations of our present training system were laid at the Budapest Congress, 1918, where three important events took place. The most important one was Freud's warning that the time had come when analysis must prepare for the coming demand of psychotherapy for the masses both in its technique and in its training. The second event was that Anton von Freund, perhaps the most lovable man in the early history of psycho-analysis, immediately offered to put at the service of Freud's idea a considerable sum (about £30, 000–40, 000) and to organize an institute for (a) mass psycho-therapy, (b) psycho-analytic training and (c) for analytic research. The third event was Nunberg's remark in a private discussion, often quoted by Eitingon in his reports: that no one should henceforth be allowed to analyse who himself has not been analysed previously. Anton von Freud's plans were shattered by events. The Hungarian inflation swallowed up the funds apart from a small sum which started our Verlag in Vienna. During the Hungarian revolution in 1919 an Institute was opened under Ferenczi's direction (in fact the first in the whole world), but after a few months the counter-revolution put an end to it.


von Freund himself died in 1920, but only a few weeks after his death Eitingon, Abraham and Simmel opened the Berlin Institute of Psycho-Analysis, the mother and model of all that followed. Openly and admittedly the aims of the Institute were those indicated by Freud and planned by von Freund: therapy for the broad masses, research and training. In fact what they—and all other institutes—have achieved is only a system of training. All the institutes throughout the whole world, from London to Melbourne, from Budapest to San-Francisco, offer facilities for therapy that are infinitesimally small compared to the public need. The original idea: psychotherapy for the broad masses, clearly delineated by Freud, became completely lost in the years of development. It is a justified charge against us analysts that we are so little concerned about it, and only a fair consequence that the therapy of the masses is passing more and more into other hands and will eventually be solved—rightly or wrongly—without us. The same is true about the second original aim of the Institute, about research. The results in this direction are so poor that they are hardly worth mentioning. Perhaps the only exception to this sad record is the Chicago Institute. Quite different are the achievements of the Berlin Institute and its followers in the sphere of training. Here they erected a proud structure, a model for the whole world, which after more than twenty-five years of stormy life, has remained unchanged in all its essential parts. In contrast with this glorious record the history of the International Training Committee is full of critical situations and its end is truly melancholy. Organized originally at the Homburg Congress, 1925, practically as the extension of the joint Berlin and Vienna Institutes, it almost disintegrated two years later at the Innsbruck Congress. At that time the apparent source of strife was the question of lay-analysis or what was called officially 'conditions for the admission of candidates'. This remained the main topic of the discussions till it died a well-deserved death after the Wiesbaden Congress, 1932. Instead of settling down to proper work, there came the American problem at the Marienbad Congress, 1936, which soon led to a new Declaration of American Independence and to an almost complete paralysis of what was once a proud and powerful organization. Really, one does not know whether the I.T.C. still exists in reality, or on paper only, or even not at all. Existing from 1925 to 1938, during the years of perhaps the most rapid expansion of psycho-analysis, the International Training Committee, the congregation of the pick of the whole analytical world, was not able to produce anything in print but records of most futile disputes. I hope some of you still remember the Innsbruck Congress, where there were about half a dozen contradicting resolutions about admission, where we voted first as individuals, then each Branch Society having one vote only, then according to a few more methods; and I wonder if any of us still remembers what was the resolution we voted upon, why this one was chosen for the vote, and whether the majority accepted or rejected it. Admittedly the question of lay-analysis is a very intricate problem which even to-day has not yet been solved in a satisfactory way. But the intricacy of the problem does not explain or justify the excitement about it. On the contrary, the greater the excitement the smaller the chances of a fair solution. It is obvious that in addition to the real difficulty, there were strong emotions also at work. Perhaps we can get some idea about the sources - 168 -


of these emotions if we examine the history of the final blow struck against the International Training Committee by Rado and the New York Psycho-Analytical Society. The analytically important elements are: (a) The International Training Committee was the fulfilment of Eitingon's ambitions. It was his favourite creation and the only one that remained to him after the Nazis seized the magnificent new Berlin Institute and naturally enough was jealously guarded by him, (b) Rado, for many years the secretary of the I.T.C., was Eitingon's closest collaborator, his shield-bearer in all the many previous fights about 'lay-analysis', (c) both in the previous fights and in the last one the true bone of contention was central control; Eitingon and the rest of us in Europe were for it, the Americans were always against it—and soon after Rado arrived in America, he was won over to their point of view. The analytical interpretation of such a sequence of events is obvious. Apart from the reality element in it, we have to do with the ambivalent attitude of the son to his father imago. The real question, however, is how far the father imago was responsible for the exacerbation of the conflict. The history of the conflict clearly shows that the fathers, i.e. the I.T.C. tried to keep the young American Institutes unnecessarily long in statu pupillari, demanding filial respect and obedience from them, in fact an unconditional acknowledgment of the censuring paternal authority of the I.T.C., i.e. the older European Institutes. The reaction to this unnecessarily exacting demand was an equally unnecessarily fierce rebellion, leading to what I have called a new Declaration of Independence in 1937, inaugurating the third, and present, period of psycho-analytic training. The present period which can be reckoned as starting either from the Declaration of Independence of the American Institutes, 1937, or from Professor Freud's death, 1939, is characterized by the lack of international central control. In the previous period a powerful attempt was made at establishing international standards and an international control organization. This commendable enough attempt failed (a) because of the suspicious, over-demanding and overbearing attitude of the older generation, and (b) because of the suspicious unnecessarily self-asserting behaviour of the younger generation. As far as I know, the present period acknowledges only local—national or group—standards and control. Now let us turn to the esoteric history. The only reference to it is contained in Freud's History of the Psycho-Analytic Movement, 1914. This was written soon after the greatest trauma that psycho-analysis has suffered: the secession of Adler, Jung and Stekel, the wounds of which even to-day, more than thirty years after the events are not completely healed. It was a highly critical situation, and only Freud's sober leadership and the proved loyalty of his true pupils were able to ward off such calamities as would have thrown the development of the young psychoanalysis out of gear for many many years to come. It became of paramount importance to prevent the recurrence of such traumatic events. Freud clearly recognized that apart from the general resistance to his theory of libido there were strong personal motives amongst the causes of the secession. He backed his diagnosis with a clear indication of the direction that preventive therapy ought to follow. First the diagnosis: 'There were only two inauspicious circumstances which at last estranged me inwardly from the group. I could not succeed in establishing among the members those friendly relations that ought to obtain between men who are all engaged upon the same difficult work, nor could I crush out the disputes about priority for which


there were many opportunities under these conditions of work in common. The difficulties in the way of instructing beginners in the practice of psycho-analysis, which are quite particularly great and are responsible for much in the present dissensions among us, were evident already in this private Vienna Psycho-Analytical Society. I myself did not venture to put forward a technique which was still incomplete, or a theory which was still in the making, with that authority which, if I had, would perhaps have spared the others many a pitfall and many a fatal error. The selfreliance of intellectual workers, their early independence of their teacher, is always gratifying psychologically; it is an advantage scientifically only when the workers personally fulfil certain conditions which are none too common' (Collected Papers, 1, 308). And the proposed preventive measures, 'For psycho-analysis in particular a long and severe discipline and training in self-discipline was actually required' (Collected Papers, 1, p. 308).

The German original is much stronger:

'Gerade die Psycho-analyse hätte eine lange und strenge Zucht und Erziehung zur Selbstzucht gefordert.' Discipline - 169 is a word so much weaker than 'Zucht' that the force and weight of the original phrase is hardly recognizable in the English version, although the English is strong enough. And further: 'Yet I felt there must be a leader. I know only too well the pitfalls lying in wait for anyone who undertakes analysis and hoped that many of them might be avoided if someone prepared to instruct and admonish could be established in a position of authority' (Collected Papers, 1, p. 329). 'Instruct' is a good translation but 'admonish' is rather weak. Freud used the word 'Abmahnung'; to reprove, to caution or to warn are nearer to the original than to admonish. According to Freud if psycho-analysis wanted to avoid successive secessions it had to take care that the new generation should learn to renounce part of their self-assertion and independence, to be educated to discipline and self-discipline and to accept an authority with the right and duty of instructing and warning. To achieve all that became the esoteric aim of our training system and the way to it was to train the new generation to identify themselves with their initiators, and especially with the analytic ideas of their initiators. Freud—in all his writings—consistently refused to be treated as being infallible; even so, as we all know, this doubtful dignity was in fact conferred on him. From him then the infallibility devolved on his early pupils, the members of that intimate and by now almost mythical circle in the Berggasse, and they were accepted as intermediate authorities. This system worked fairly well, because it was always possible to fall back on Freud and because his advice was really wise and acceptable. The system could work, however, only as long as Freud himself was active and could state—if necessary—in unmistakable terms who was right, and what was right, and his influence was felt strong enough, i.e. did not become too diluted either in the process of the 'apostolic succession' or by geographical distance.

The arrival of the third generation of training analysts about and after 1925, meant a considerable

weakening of the system. In fact the old curse of strife reappeared again—as always in man's past—between the fathers and the sons. It is interesting to note that the first signs of restiveness appeared in the countries furthest situated geographically, while the Vienna group has remained until now practically homogeneous, the successive


generations firmly knit together by bonds of true friendship and strong loyalty, demonstrating the paramount importance of a good super-ego formation. That is why I proposed to reckon the present—chaotic or national—period of the history of the training system as having started with Freud's death. Without his wise authority all 'fathers' lost their privileged position and all training analysts and training institutions became equal. IV Thus one can discriminate three periods which are identical in the exoteric and in the esoteric history of the training. The first period of training was characterized by the lack of any visible organization—and there was no attempt at a super-ego intropression, nor demand for a far-reaching identification. This led to several secessions. In the second period psycho-analysis created an efficient system of training and a strong organization to enforce its standards. In the esoteric sense it meant the establishment of a strong paternal authority 'to instruct and to admonish' and a firm pressure on the candidate to make him accept his analyst's teachings, to make him identify himself with them. By creating unnecessary tensions between the generations, this period led to recurring strifes and resulted in the complete breakdown of any central authority and in the establishing of local—national or group—standards, ideals, and controls. We start the third period having several claimants to loyalties in sharp competition one with another. This has led inevitably to a narcissistic over-valuation of small differences which in its turn blurred the real proportions by minimizing or completely hiding the essential agreements. Thus there is little co-operation, but mainly competition, between the groups. It is obvious that this means an increasing strain, and the danger of a possible breakdown is always imminent. A secondary result is that each school of thought tries hard to win more candidates to itself and to educate them to be safe, trustworthy and loyal followers. There is ample opportunity during the training analysis to change an independent or indifferent candidate into a fervent proselyte. This danger increases with the control work. We know that the analyst is in fact introjected during analysis and used as a nucleus of a new super-ego; but what is introjected is an unrealistic - 170 image of the analyst, adapted by distortions to the patient's needs and subsequently subjected to a conscious correction during the period of working through. The balance of forces is quite different during the control situation. There the control analyst is a real person with strong convictions, theoretical likes and dislikes, preoccupations, and personal limitations. He is not bound by the analytical situation, he can—and often does—represent his views and convictions, with all his weight; moreover, the candidate has a much weaker stand in this situation, he has not the privilege of using his free associations—his strongest defence—any more, he is taught and controlled or 'supervized' not analysed. The balance of forces is somewhat different but by no means more favourable to the candidate in the lectures and seminars. Not only does the lecturer speak ex cathedra, but any contradiction immediately singles out the candidate, who from then on has to face a conformist group as a non-conformist individual, a strain to which only a few can and dare stand up.


It is very interesting that the two great masters of analytic technique, Freud and Ferenczi, did not take a prominent part in this kind of training. Somehow they seemed to be satisfied with analysis only. I have the impression that Abraham and Jones were of somewhat similar opinion, but here I may be wrong. Another fact is equally important. While other training analysts created a 'school' or even a team, neither Freud nor Ferenczi nor Jones did so. To prove this important fact, may I enumerate those among us of whom it is known that atone period or other of their training they were Ferenczi's pupils: Colonel Daly, Drs. Franklin, Herford, Inman, Jones, Mrs. Klein, Dr. Rickman, and myself. Although in some points we may have similar ideas, I do not think anyone could throw us together as one school. I am fairly certain the same will be true about Freud's and Jones's pupils, though I cannot prove it as I do not know them well enough. To prevent a possible misunderstanding I wish to emphasize that I would not propose to abolish the present theoretical courses and the practical work under supervision. On the contrary, I think they are indispensable steps in the training and must be preserved. What we need, however, is a new orientation of our training system which must aim less at establishing a new and firm super-ego but more at enabling the candidate to free himself and to build up a strong ego which shall be both critical and liberal at the same time. It is obvious that this means a thorough revision of our training aims and methods especially during the supervision. To start such a scientific discussion on the technique of supervision of analysis was one of the aims of this paper. Such a discussion will certainly demand the burying of a number of hatchets, and a real and sincere rapprochement from every direction. It is to be expected that this will put a considerable strain upon both candidates and training analysts for a time at any rate. There are a few, though only very few hopeful signs that the wind is gradually changing and that general opinion is veering towards the easing off of this super-ego training. A very encouraging institution recently introduced in London is the joint meeting of candidates and the training committee. As far as I know, everybody who was present at the last meeting was really satisfied with its results. Another interesting development appears in the changes of our terminology relating to training. In the mother tongue of psycho-analysis, in German, the term for training analysis has remained unchanged from its first appearance. It is called 'Lehr-' or 'didaktische Analyse' which literally means 'teaching' or 'didactic analysis'. The training committee too has kept its original name 'Unterrichtskommission' which means 'committee of instruction'. Both names reflect the idea expressed by Freud of 'an authority to instruct and to admonish'. In Hungarian we had a lucky hit, almost a bull's eye, and also a very bad shot. The good term is 'tanulmányi analizis', and 'tanulmányi bizottság', which means 'study analysis' (to contrast with therapeutic analysis) and 'committee of studies' ('Studienanalysie und Studienkommission'). The bad shot was 'kiképzö analizis' literally 'forming' analysis (Ausbildungsanalyse), obviously still under the influence of the idea of super-ego training. Still more interesting are the changes in the English terminology. The 'training committee' has been called by that name since its beginning. The original name for the analysis was 'instructional', a servile translation of the German 'Lehr'; this was followed by 'didactic' still under German influence; and was eventually changed to 'training analysis'. Apparently


- 171 this too, was felt as being too forceful and recently the term 'personal analysis' is being introduced. It is a bad term, because every analysis is personal, there is no 'impersonal' analysis, but it shows clearly the awakening conscience for which even 'training' is too forceful. The same is true about 'control analysis' which also was felt to be too strong and gave way to the present clumsy but unobjectionable term 'practical work under supervision'. All these show the new tendency to decrease—at least in name—the unnecessary weight of authority. Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have reached the end.

I hope, now you will understand why in spite of my

trepidations I felt obliged to bring these ideas before you for discussion and criticism and why I am glad that the candidates, too, are present. If my ideas are correct, I had to bring serious charges both against ourselves, the training analysts, and against our candidates. The candidates are to be charged with being easily overawed and dependent, not being honestly critical, respecting us too much, swearing blindly by their master's words, and identifying themselves uncritically with their analysts' ideas and views. Still graver is the charge against us training analysts. It is so grave that I again resort to quoting Freud, avoiding the responsibility of choosing my own words. The passage dates back to 1918. Freud discussed the necessity of combining occasionally analytic and educative influences with certain of our patients, then he continued: 'and even with the majority (of the patients) now and then occasions arise in which the physician is bound to take up the position of teacher and mentor. But it must be done with great caution and the patient should be educated to liberate and to fulfil his own nature and not to resemble ourselves' (Collected Papers, 2, 399). Another passage runs: 'We reject most emphatically the view that we should convert into our property the patient who put himself into our hands in seek of help, that we should carve his destiny for him, force our own ideals upon him, and with the arrogance of a Creator form him in our own image and see that it was good' (Collected Papers, 2, 398). The standards that can be justly demanded when dealing with a patient ought to be much more strictly observed when training a candidate. I wonder which of us, old training analysts, could stand up clear against such a charge. APPENDIX Through the kindness of their secretaries I was able to obtain the training rules of seven out of nine recognized Training Institutes in America (the two which I could not get are those of Los Angeles and the Psycho-Analytic Clinic for Training and Research, New York). I am well aware that the study of printed rules is a much less safe basis than direct personal acquaintance and so my condensed review must be taken with caution. The most surprising feature of the rules is their uniformity. It is clear that all of them are only slightly amended reissues of the Minimal Standards for the Training of Physicians in Ps.A. drawn up and accepted by the American Ps.A. Association. Even the only nonconformist, the Chicago Institute, finds it advisable to emphasize that its 'course of study continues to fulfil the basic requirements' (i.e. the Minimal Standards). It would be easy to make cheap comments about young revolutionaries turned in maturity into staunch conservatives. After all it was the young American Institutes which by their revolt against central control brought about the paralysis of the International


Training Committee—and a few years later these same Institutes willingly accepted, and ever since have proudly upheld, centrally imposed standards. Moreover these—American—standards are essentially the same as those which the International Training Committee tried in vain to make the Americans accept. For my line of thought this paradox is an important argument. Training standards imposed from outside, especially by exacting father figures, must be rejected, while practically the same standards, proposed by imagos with whom identification is possible, can be accepted without strain. This is a convincing proof for the paramount rôle of superego formation in psycho-analytical training. The terminology used in America is much the same as that in England. Instead of training analysis the terms 'personal' or 'preparatory' analysis are used, the Training Committee is often called 'Educational', and control work 'supervised analysis'. An interesting difference is the almost general use of the term 'instructor' where in England we would use 'analyst' (e.g. 'analysing instructor', 'supervising instructor', etc.). Apart from its possible local connotation 'instructor' is strongly reminiscent of Freud's phrase of the authority 'prepared to - 172 instruct and to admonish'. Except for this one term the tendency to avoid or amend terms giving away too patently the esoteric methods of training is just as strong in America as in England. With regard to the place of control work in the training system, the American attitude is almost identical with that in our country. Some institutes state peremptorily: 'The instructor chosen to supervise the clinical work shall not be the instructor who has been in charge of the preparatory analysis.' A few others—the smaller ones, like Topeka or Washington—mitigate this absolute prohibition by adding to it the words: 'in the beginning'. Obviously this is tolerated as an emergency measure necessitated by the limited number of training analysts at these institutes. But none of the institutes mentions any experience that would justify this dogmatic rule. In this respect the American institutes behave in the same authoritative way as their European counterparts. The same is true of the other example used in this paper, the duration of the 'preparatory' analysis. The regulations follow two patterns, apparently both having the Minimal Standards as their source. The one pattern contains a sentence like this: 'The duration of the preparatory analysis is determined by the analysing instructor and depends upon the needs of the individual student' (New York, 1947–48). The only justification of such a wording is the unconscious idea of a benevolent, omnipotent (and naturally infallible) initiator. Most of the institutes, however, add to this sentence the rider: 'but in no case shall it (the preparatory analysis) be of shorter duration than three hundred hours' (Topeka, Washington-Baltimore, San Francisco, Philadelphia till 1947–48; Boston 1947–48, says only two hundred and fifty hours, but this may be a misprint). It is interesting to note that 300 hours (with five sessions per week) amount approximately to one to one and a half years, an old acquaintance from the time of the very first training rules, based on unfounded optimistic expectations and contradicted by findings. As shown in my paper such statements are always misleading and often harmful.

They have as their basis the unconscious dogmatic

tendencies of ourtraining system. An interesting innovation is contained in the New York rules, according to which as a rule the whole training must be finished in five years, although the Educational Committee may grant extension in exceptional cases. Apparently it


is felt that if a training analysis cannot be finished in five years, as a rule, it is not worth continuing. This is an interesting point although cases could be quoted both for and against it. It would be a great service if the New York Committee could publish their material on this regulation. To sum up: As far as can be seen from their printed training regulations, the American Institutes do not differ in their treatment of their candidates from their European colleagues. The criticisms brought up in this paper apply to them also. REFERENCES FERENCZI, S. and RANK, O. 1927 The Development of Ps.A. Nervous and Mental Disease Publ. Co., New York and Washington. (German original appeared in 1924 .) FREUD, S. 1924 'The History of the Ps.A. Movement.' (Originally published in 1914 .) In English:Collected Papers 1 Hogarth Press. FREUD, S. 1924 'Turnings in the Ways of Ps.A. Therapy.' (Originally published in 1918 .) In English:Collected Papers 2 Hogarth Press. FREUD, S. 1937 'Analysis Terminable and Interminable' Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 18 373–405 JONES, E. 1936 'The Future of Ps.A.' Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 18 269–277 KOVÁCS, V. 1936 'Training and Control Analysis' Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 18 346–354 SACHS, H. 1947 'Observations of a Training Analyst' Ps. A. Quart. 16 157–168 'Zehn Jahre Berliner Psychoanalytisches Institut.' Int. Ps.A. Verlag Wien, 1930 EITINGON, M. Berlin 1922 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 4 1923 254–269 EITINGON, M. Salzburg1924 Int. Zeitschr. Ps.A. 10 1924 229–240 EITINGON, M. Hamburg1925 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 7 1926 129–141 EITINGON, M. Innsbruck1927 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 9 1928 135–156 EITINGON, M. Oxford1929 Int. J. Psycho-Anal 10 1929 504–510 EITINGON, M. Wiesbaden1932 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 14 1933 155–159 EITINGON, M. Lucerne1934 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 15 1934 317–318 EITINGON, M. Lucerne1934 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 16 1935 242–262 EITINGON, M. Marienbad1936 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 18 1937 346–369 EITINGON, M. Paris1938 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 20 1939 212–213 Vienna1935 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 16 1935 505–509 Budapest1937 Int. J. Psycho-Anal. 18 1937 369–71


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