Brunner 1994
Brunner 1994
Brunner 1994
83-101
JOSE BRUNNER
The Argument
Freud persistently refused to observe phenomena from only one point of view, to
ask only one type of question. As is well known he always regarded individual
action and social processes as "overdetermined." For him they were inevitably the
effect of many causes, carried a variety of often contradictory meanings, expressed
several and sometimes incompatible intentions, and fulfilled multiple functions.
To cope with the complexity of human conduct and its determinants, Freud
developed a pluralistic and interdisciplinary science of the mind, which he orga-
nized around four interrelated but nevertheless distinct perspectives. Freud always
discerned meaning in mental phenomena, taking them to be expressions similar to
those of a language. He revealed hidden dynamic forces — drives and energies —
84 JOSE BRUNNER
interpretation and explanation from Freudian discourse and thus to turn psy-
choanalysis into a self-contained, closed thought system. But as I shall show,
Freud was well aware that such one-dimensional constructions of psychoanalysis
rob it of its vitality. In his view, only religion and philosophy feigned completeness
and certitude; he took it to be an essential characteristic of science to allow of
tensions and contradictions and to admit to its own imperfections. Thus in this
article I develop a narrative of my own, one opposed to that constructed by most
influential figures in psychoanalysis, philosophy, and history of science, which
presents them as engaged in repeated attempts to eliminate the subversive and
creative role that metapsychology plays in Freud's work.
Let us start by joining Freud on a walk. In August 1899, while working on his
magnum opus, The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud had written to Wilhelm
Fliess that it was "planned on the model of an imaginary walk." "At the beginning
the dark forest of authors (who do not see the trees), hopelessly lost on wrong
tracks. Then a concealed pass through which I lead the reader — my specimen
dream with its peculiarities, details, indiscretions, bad jokes — and then suddenly
the high ground and the question: which way do you wish to go now?" (Freud
1985, 365). In the opening sentences of the book's third chapter Freud uses the
same vocabulary, but this time he likens the process of dream interpretation itself
to such an imaginary walk:
II
supposed to form the basis of all psychoanalytic endeavors. As Freud states in his
Introductory Lectures, when one makes the transition from manifest phenomena
such as symptoms and slips to metapsychological depictions of psychic processes
and structures, "the phenomena that are perceived must yield to trends that are
only hypothetical" (Freud [ 1916-17], SE 15:67). In his metapsychological conjec-
tures Freud attempts to represent the elusive world of the mind from three
perspectives. As he explains: "When we have succeeded in describing a psychical
process in its dynamic, topographical and economic aspects, we should speak of it
as a metapsychological presentation [Darstellung]" (Freud [1915], SE 14:181). In
his explanation of the dynamic aspect of metapsychology, Freud emphasizes that
he seeks "not merely to describe and clarify phenomena, but to understand them as
signs of an interplay of forces in the mind, as a manifestation of purposeful
intentions working concurrently or in mutual opposition" (Freud [1916-17], SE
15:67). To this conflictual view of the mind, the economic point of view adds
estimates of the magnitude or amount of psychic energy involved in the interplay
(Freud [1915], SE 14:181). Finally, from a topographical angle, Freud postulates
psychic systems or agencies — such as the unconscious, preconscious, or con-
sciousness — in which, or between which, mental processes are supposed to take
place (ibid., 173, 175).
Thus although Freud's metapsychological formulations remain on purely psy-
chological ground and are not supposed to point to material substrates, they
portray the mind as a spatial entity. However, Freud repeatedly cautions his
readers not to take these quasi-physical descriptions literally. In fact, already in the
early Studies on Hysteria Freud's co-author, Josef Breuer, warns of the danger of
mistaking metaphors of the mind for descriptions of the psyche's reality:
It is only too easy to fall into a habit of thought which assumes that every
substantive has a substance behind it — which gradually comes to regard
"consciousness" as standing for the actual thing; and when we have become
accustomed to make use metaphorically of spatial relations, as in the term
"sub-consciousness", we find, as time goes on that we have actually formed
an idea which has lost its metaphorical nature and which we can manipulate
easily as though it was real. Our mythology is then complete.
All our thinking tends to be accompanied and aided by spatial ideas, and
we talk in spatial metaphors.... We almost inevitably form pictures... of a
building with its dark underground cellars. . . . If however, we constantly
bear in mind that all such spatial relations are metaphorical . . . we may
nevertheless speak of a consciousness and a subconsciousness. But only on
this condition. (Freud [1895], SE 2:227-28)
A few years later, in The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud both defends his
analogical mode of thought and advises his readers not to reify these tropes. Of
course he uses a metaphor to do so. As he puts it, "We are justified ... in giving free
rein to our speculations so long as we retain the coolness of our judgment and do
JOSE BRUNNER
not mistake the scaffolding for the building" (Freud [1900], SE 5:536). In later
writings, such as in Beyond the Pleasure Principle, Freud explains that topogra-
phical, dynamic, or economic descriptions of mental processes are not inferred
from empirical observations. Rather, they are a priori categories, a "figurative
language" without which one "could not have become aware" of the mental
processes (Freud [1920], SE 18:60). In the beginning of the essay Freud admits that
Ill
What conceptions of science and reality could allow Freud to construct unverifi-
able, imaginative metaphors as a legitimate part of his scientific project? The
answer to this question lies in Freud's intellectual background. As Erna Leski, the
historian of the Viennese medical school, suggests, doctors of Freud's era formed
their image of science and human beings not only on the basis of their practical
training in medicine but also through their education in the Kantian spirit of
German humanism (Leski 1965, 314; see also Anderson 1962, 195). The German
and Austrian intellectual tradition of the time was so imbued with Kantian
heritage that the school of Helmholtz — to which Freud's teachers belonged —
developed a type of phenomenalism that, although antithetical to some of Kant's
premises, counted as scientific translation of his philosophy (Galaty 1974; Turner
1977; Leary 1980). The Helmholtz school justified the reduction of life to
chemical-physical mechanics not by reference to the nature of the objects under
scrutiny but by the translation of an epistemological argument into a sensualist
one. According to its presuppositions, a "mechanical analysis of nature" was
entailed by the structure of the human sensory apparatus, which did not allow
human beings to conceive of change independent from mechanical movements of
matter.
Freud alludes to such a quasi-Kantian phenomenalism by stating: "Just as Kant
warned us not to overlook the fact that our perceptions are subjectively conditioned
and must not be regarded as identical with what is perceived though unknowable,
so psychoanalysis warns us not to equate perception by means of consciousness
with the unconscious processes which are their object. Like the physical, the
psychical is not necessarily what it appears to be" (Freud [1915], SE 14:171). This
is not the only comparison Freud makes between the impossibility of direct access
to the mind's internal world and the problems encountered in the investigation of
the external reality. In fact, the influence of quasi-Kantian premises can be seen
throughout his writings. It is evident, for example, in The Interpretation of
Dreams, where he states that the unconscious "in its innermost nature is as much
unknown to us as the reality of the external world, and . . . as incompletely
presented by the data of consciousness as is the external world by the communica-
1
Elsewhere I have elaborated in detail on the advantages of such a commonsensical, metaphorical
reading of Freud's metapsychology and concluded that Freud's metapsychoiogical postulates depict
the mind as a conflictual realm structured in analogy to the political world. In my view this political
construction of the mind constitutes the core of psychoanalytic theorizing (Brunner n.d.). Here,
however, I am not concerned with this aspect of Freud's metapsychoiogical metaphors and limit
myself to a discussion of their role in relation to hermeneutics.
90 JOSEBRUNNER
tions of our sense organs" (Freud [1900], SE 5:613). Almost four decades later,
quasi-Kantian premises continue to underlie a passage in his Outline of Psychoa-
nalysis, in which he compares hypotheses of psychoanalysis to those of physics and
argues:
In our science as in the others the problem is the same: behind the attributes
(qualities) of the object under examination which are presented directly to
our perception, we have to discover something else which is more independ-
ent of the particular receptive capacity of our organs and which approximates
more closely to what may be supposed to be the real state of affairs. We have
no hope of reaching the latter itself, since it is evident that everything new
that we have inferred must nevertheless be translated back into the language
of our perceptions, from which it is simply impossible to free ourselves. But
herein lies the very nature and limitation of our science. . . . Reality will
always remain "unknowable." (Freud [1940a], SE 23:196)
In this spirit Freud states that all that science can achieve are "approximations to
certainty." However, he asserts that such postulates nevertheless enable "construc-
tive work in spite of the absence of final confirmation" (Freud [1916-17], SE
15:51). Again we note that for Freud uncertainty and openness are typical of
scientific procedures in general, and that in this respect he sees no difference
between psychoanalysis and any of the other sciences. In his words, "The processes
with which it is concerned are in themselvesjust as unknowable as those dealt with
by other sciences, by chemistry or physics, for example" (Freud [1940a], SE
23:158). Thus he claims that despite their vagueness, new hypotheses and concepts
in psychoanalysis
are not to be despised as evidence of embarrassment on our part but deserve
on the contrary to be appreciated as an enrichment of science. They can lay
claim to the same value as approximations that belongs to the corresponding
intellectual scaffolding found in other natural sciences, and we look forward
to their being modified, corrected, and more precisely determined as further
experience is accumulated and sifted. So too it be entirely in accordance with
our expectations if the basic concepts and principles of the new science
(instinct, nervous energy, etc.) remain for a considerable time no less inde-
terminate than those of older sciences (force, mass, attraction, etc.). (Ibid.,
158-59)
Let me sum up. The epistemological premises of Freud's phenomenalism legitimize
the vague, metaphorical abstractions typical of metapsychology as a feature
common to all sciences, including physics. According to Freud, it is inevitable for
all disciplines to have recourse to the construction of indeterminate basic concepts
in order to represent an underlying reality of inaccessible processes, structures,
and mechanisms. Thus his self-understanding as a scientist was far more creative,
critical, and complex than most of his supporters and detractors allow for.
Why Psychoanalysis Needs Metapsychology 91
IV
and closure. It seems appropriate to invoke here Freud's criticism of such system-
atization among his followers; for Freud took thinking that was enclosed in
apparently complete systems to be necessarily opposed to scientific thought.
Science, he wrote in the last of his New Introductory Lectures, "is not all-
comprehensive, it is too incomplete and makes no claim to being self-contained
and to the construction of systems" (Freud [1933], SE 22:181-82). Science's
evident imperfection was for Freud one of its crucial characteristics and one that
differentiated it from philosophy and religion, whose illusionary stability and
coherence aimed to soothe their followers and lull them into a misleading sense of
security (ibid., 160-61). Criticizing their paralyzing influence on their believers,
Freud referred to comprehensive thought systems as Weltanschauungen. For
Freud, a Weltanschauung was "an intellectual construction which solves all the
problems of our existence uniformly on the basis of one overriding hypothesis,
which, accordingly, leaves no question unanswered and in which everything that
interests us finds its fixed place" (ibid., 158). And although Freud also referred to
science as a Weltanschauung, he pointed out that contrary to its philosophical and
religious counterparts it did not really deserve this title, since it did not pretend to
be able to answer all questions.
These provisos and stipulations have to be kept in mind when one considers
Freud's famous declarations that "psycho-analysis has a special right to speak for
the scientific Weltanschauung" and that it "is part of science and can adhere to the
scientific Weltanschauung" (Freud [1933], SE 22:158, 181; see also [1940a], SE
23:158; [1940b], SE 23:282). For by themselves such utterances do not explicate
what Freud meant by the terms "science," "scientific," and Weltanschauung.
Nevertheless they have been — and still are — widely quoted out of context and
turned into part and parcel of what one might call the "official" narrative of
psychoanalysis. Propagated by loyal followers and biographers such as Ernest
Jones (1953-57), this narrative places origins and method of psychoanalysis within
a natural-science type of discourse. Frank Sulloway (1979) has catalogued twenty-
six different stories — he calls them "myths" — that together form a narrative of
Freud as The Scientific Hero who started his task as a shunned outsider, a lonely
warrior in the cause of truth, fighting against an evil medical establishment that
rejected his ideas. As Sulloway presents it, the official psychoanalytic narrative
tells of a long and complicated journey full of unexpected dangers and ordeals. It
reports on trials, temptations, and wrong paths taken, temptresses (in the early
seduction theory), a secret helper (Wilhelm Fliess), a daring and superhuman
self-transformation (Freud's self-analysis), loneliness and rejection, an early group
of devoted followers, conquests — and finally, success, victory, and fame (ibid.,
chap. 13).
Why Psychoanalysis Needs Metapsychology 93
ison to that which he owed to disciplines concerned with the study of language.
John Forrester, for instance claims that "it was the field of philological sciences
that acted as a source of inspiration for Freud's and psychoanalysis' preoccupation
with language" (Forrester 1980, 167-68). Forrester seems to concur with Michel
Foucault's claim that "Freud more than anyone else brought the knowledge of
man closer to its philological and linguistic model" (Foucault 1970, 361). Jacques
Lacan, too, conceives psychoanalysis primarily in linguistic or hermeneutic terms.
In Lacan's words: "If psychoanalysis is to become instituted as the science of the
unconscious, one must set out with the notion that the unconscious is structured
like a language" (Lacan 1977, 160; Lacan 1978, 280).
Obviously, as a hermeneutics psychoanalysis has to be assessed according to
different criteria from the ones that natural science brings into play. Thus such
issues as narrative coherence and "fit," self-consistency and comprehensiveness,
are brought into the foreground by these commentators. Paul Ricoeur, for in-
stance, has formulated the truth criteria of psychoanalysis as those of a narrative
by saying that its aim is "to reorganize facts in a meaningful whole which constitutes
a single and continuous history" (Ricoeur 1977, 861; see also Spence 1982).
Ricoeur holds this position even though he describes Freud's attempted union of
hermeneutics and causal explanation as constituting not only the "central difficulty
in psychoanalytic epistemology" but also as its raison d'etre (Ricoeur 1970, 65).
Throughout his discussion of Freud's writings Ricoeur refers to them as forming a
"mixed discourse that falls outside the motive-cause alternative" (ibid., 363; see
also 394-95). He even seems to reach the conclusion that "we can neither be
satisfied with the Freudian metapsychology, nor find another starting point to
rectify and enrich the theoretical model" (Ricoeur 1977, 857; see also 852-56). But
finally he argues that in terms of the procedures which can be used to establish
their validity, psychoanalytic interpretations are located within the hermeneutic
realm of meaning alone and are subject "to the same kind of questions as the
validity of a historical or exegetical interpretation" (Ricoeur 1970, 374).
In his discussion of the cause-intention merger in psychoanalysis, Jiirgen Ha-
bermas declares Freud's science to be "the only tangible example of a science
incorporating methodical self-reflection," because it "joins hermeneutics with
operations that genuinely seemed to be reserved to the natural sciences" (Habermas
1978, 214). However, Habermas criticizes Freud for failing to recognize psychoa-
nalysis as the self-reflective depth hermeneutics which he, Habermas, proclaims it
to be, and for undergirding it with misleading scientistic models of energy distribu-
tion. In order to develop psychoanalysis in what he takes to be its proper direction,
Habermas, too, suggests replacing causal aspects in Freud's discourse by a herme-
neutics, "which explicates the conditions of the possibility of psychoanalytic
knowledge" (ibid., 254).
British ordinary-language philosophers, and psychoanalysts influenced by them,
agree as a rule as regards this point with the comments made by Ricoeur and
Habermas. Charles Rycroft articulates this position succinctly by stating: "If
Why Psychoanalysis Needs Metapsychology 97
dreams have meaning and can be interpreted they must be creations of a person or
an agent who endows them with meaning, while, if they are phenomena with
causes they must be explicable in terms of prior events without reference to an
agent. One cannot really have it both ways and the attempt to do so leads only to
confusion" (Rycroft 1981, 4). However, for more than a decade some of the
criticism voiced against Freud by British ordinary-language philosophers has lost
its edge, since the purpose-cause distinction has finally collapsed even in these
circles (Davidson 1980, 3-19; see also Davidson 1982). But as the continuing
controversy around Griinbaum's book shows, the interpretation-of-meaning ver-
sus causal-explanation debate still flourishes and continuously avoids engaging
the challenge inherent in Freud's project: to develop a vision of the mind that
eschews this dichotomy and instead creates a synthesis of explanation and
understanding.
What is common to commentators on both sides of the science-hermeneutics
divide is that they seek to restrict Freud's interdisciplinary work to one discursive
dimension, which they make dominant as representing the "true" Freud. Moreover,
essentially the same strategy of reading is pursued by those who try to rehabilitate
Freud, to free him from a stigma — whatever it may be — and by those who try to
discredit psychoanalysis and unmask its fallacies and errors. They all posit incom-
patibility where Freud refuses the very possibility of separation into two conceptual
worlds, and they set up a dichotomy of two realms that Freud continuously
intertwined. The first is a hermeneutic one referring to the language, reasons, and
purposes or intentions of a subject, whose understanding demands interpretation
and decoding. The other realm deals with the natural-scientific explanation of
causal links and processes, for which mechanistic hypotheses and empirical cor-
roboration are appropriate.
In opposition to these one-dimensional readings of Freud I contend that at-
tempts to "discipline" psychoanalysis by reducing it to one of these two dimensions
rob it of its vitality. For, in my view, the uneasy coexistence of interpretation and
explanation in psychoanalytic discourse gives rise to a creative tension that is
destroyed by relegating Freud to one or other side of the interpretation-explanation
divide. I have thus attempted to criticize such narratives and in the process of this
criticism to construct an alternative narrative on Freud's work that focuses on the
dialectic of metapsychology and interpretation in psychoanalysis. Above all, I
have examined the place that Freud allocated to metapsychology in his interdisci-
plinary science. Metapsychology, I have claimed, served him as a double-edged
sword, both enabling creative and metaphorical thought about the mind's elusive
reality .and revealing the necessary incompleteness of hermeneutics. In order to
pursue this critical, reflexive task, as well as to think creatively about the hidden
world of the psyche, psychoanalysis still needs metapsychology. However, this
does not mean that Freud's metapsychological concepts and categories are sacred
and beyond criticism. On the contrary, it implies that they should provoke further
thinking about the mind's hidden dynamics, forces, and structures, a thinking
98 JOSEBRUNNER
Acknowledgments
For their helpful comments, which contributed much to the preparation of this
paper, I would like to thank Eva Illouz, Leah Rosen, Sasha Waitman, Eugene V.
Wolfenstein, and Yael Janette Zupnik.
References