diff options
Diffstat (limited to '78273-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 78273-0.txt | 9565 |
1 files changed, 9565 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/78273-0.txt b/78273-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0565f45 --- /dev/null +++ b/78273-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9565 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78273 *** + + PSYCHOPATHOLOGY + AND POLITICS + + By + HAROLD D. LASSWELL + + Assistant Professor of Political Science, The + University of Chicago; and author of _Propaganda + Technique in the World War, etc._ + + + _“From him who has eyes to see and ears to hear + no mortal can hide his secret; he whose lips are + silent chatters with his fingertips and betrays + himself through all his pores.”_ + --An Old Physician + + + THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS + CHICAGO · ILLINOIS + + + COPYRIGHT 1930 BY THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PUBLISHED OCTOBER 1930 + _Second Impression May 1931_ + + COMPOSED AND PRINTED BY THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS + CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, U.S.A. + + + + +PREFACE + + +An understanding of political life can be sought by examining +collective processes distributively or intensively. In my _Propaganda +Technique in the World War_ (New York and London, 1927), I undertook to +analyze the factors which modified collective attitudes by examining +the symbols to which many millions of people had been exposed, without +paying heed to the order in which these symbols entered into the +experience of any particular person. In this preliminary treatise +on _Psychopathology and Politics_, I am likewise concerned with the +factors which impinge upon collective attitudes, but the method of +procedure is radically different. It is no longer a question of +inspecting the symbols to which innumerable individuals have been +exposed; the present starting-point is the lengthy scrutiny of the +histories of specific individuals. The procedures and findings of +psychopathology are relied upon for the purpose in hand, since they are +the most elaborate and stimulating contributions to the study of the +person which have yet been made. + +Candor enjoins me once more to express my indebtedness to my former +teacher and present chief, Charles E. Merriam, of the University of +Chicago, who some time ago sensed the importance of psychopathology for +political science, and who has been willing to encourage my own forays +in the field, without, of course, feeling bound to indorse my results +either in principle or in detail. Through him it became possible to +have facilities for special work with Professor Mayo, of Harvard +University, whose perception of the bearing of psychopathology upon the +understanding of social life is bearing fruit in novel and important +experiments in business. The tenure of a Social Science Research +Council Fellowship (1928-29) made it possible to continue my studies +abroad. + +Circumstances have thus been such as to bring me in contact, sometimes +fleeting and sometimes prolonged, with men who represent divers +standpoints in psychopathology. Many of these have kindly placed +their minds and their facilities at my disposal, and I hereby return +thanks for the generosity and patience with which they treated an +inquiring, if somewhat innocent, investigator. No one who knows the lay +of the land in modern psychology, deeply pitted by the trenches and +shell-holes of battling schools, will imagine that all the men whom +I am to name see eye to eye with one another, or that they will look +with equanimity upon the results of my explorations. To name them is, I +hope, not unduly to incriminate them. + +Among those from whom assistance has been received are to be included: +Dr. William Healy, Judge Baker Foundation, Boston; Dr. William A. +White, superintendent of St. Elizabeth’s Hospital, Washington, D.C.; +Dr. Ross Chapman, superintendent of Sheppard and Enoch Pratt Hospital, +Towson, Maryland; Dr. Earl D. Bond, superintendent of the Pennsylvania +State Hospital, Philadelphia; Dr. Mortimer Raynor, superintendent of +Bloomingdale Hospital, White Plains, New York; Dr. C. MacFie Campbell, +superintendent of the Boston Psychopathic Hospital, Boston; Dr. Harry +Stack Sullivan, formerly of Sheppard and Enoch Pratt Hospital; Dr. +N. D. C. Lewis, St. Elizabeth’s Hospital; Dr. Samuel W. Hamilton, +Bloomingdale Hospital; Dr. Gregory Zilboorg, Bloomingdale Hospital; +Dr. F. L. Wells, Boston Psychopathic Hospital; Dr. Edouard Hitschmann, +Vienna; Dr. Paul Federn, Vienna; Dr. Alfred Adler, Vienna; Dr. Wilhelm +Stekel, Vienna; Dr. S. Ferenczi, Budapest; Dr. Theodor Reik, Berlin; +Dr. Franz Alexander, Berlin (now of the University of Chicago). My +colleagues, Dr. Stewart B. Sniffen and Professor Leonard D. White, made +valuable suggestions during the process of editing the manuscript, +several of which I adopted. + +Permission to quote freely from my previous publications was received +from the editors of the _American Political Science Review, American +Journal of Psychiatry, Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, +International Journal of Ethics_, and from the University of Chicago +Press and the Chicago Association for Child Study and Parent Education. + +I wish especially to express my gratitude to those who cannot be +singled out by name, but whose co-operation in submitting themselves to +prolonged scrutiny was of the greatest possible help. + +It ought to be pointed out that the cases actually cited are only +a fraction of those which I have examined, or which I have in my +possession. Only enough cases have been abstracted to serve the +purposes of exposition, to supply a background for the theoretical +material. The obscurities which result from an unlimited multiplication +of “little Willie stories” have been sought to be avoided by curtailing +their number and their extent. + +The first part of the book proceeds in rather dogmatic fashion, and +this no doubt tends to obscure the highly unsatisfactory nature of +the materials and methods of contemporary psychopathology. The later +chapters are given over to the critical and constructive discussion of +these matters, and should fully indicate the highly provisional, though +potentially significant, character of the whole. + + H. D. L. + + + + + TABLE OF CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. Life-Histories and Political Science 1 + + II. The Psychopathological Approach 15 + + III. A New Technique of Thinking 28 + + IV. The Criteria of Political Types 38 + + V. Theories of Personality Development 65 + + VI. Political Agitators 78 + + VII. Political Agitators--_Continued_ 106 + + VIII. Political Administrators 127 + + IX. Political Convictions 153 + + X. The Politics of Prevention 173 + + XI. The Prolonged Interview and Its Objectification 204 + + XII. The Personality System and Its Substitutive Reactions 221 + + XIII. The State as a Manifold of Events 240 + + APPENDIX + + A. Select Bibliography 268 + + B. Question List on Political Practices 276 + + Index 283 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +LIFE-HISTORIES AND POLITICAL SCIENCE + + +Political biography as a field of political science has long been +relied upon to furnish a vivid corrective to the overemphasis laid upon +the study of institutional “mechanisms,” “structures,” and “systems.” +The legal and customary position of the House of Commons, the House of +Lords, the monarch and the electorate, as expounded in the commentaries +of Gneist and Dicey, suddenly take on new meaning when viewed through +the lens of Morley’s Gladstone, Strachey’s Victoria, or Lee’s Edward +VII. The German imperial system of Laband is more fleshly and less +transcendental when one has studied the lives of Bismarck or William +II. An institutional account of the constitutional development of the +United States without a life of Marshall and a life of Lincoln would +be but the dregs of a rich and ebullient history. Political science +without biography is a form of taxidermy. + +When the tumultuous life of society is flayed into precedents and +tanned into principles, the resulting abstractions suffer a strange +fate. They are grouped and regrouped until the resulting mosaic may +constitute a logical and aesthetic whole which has long ceased to bear +any valid relation to the original reality. Concepts are constantly +in danger of losing their reference to definite events. Notions like +liberty and authority require a new birth of meaning after they +have followed the tempting path of abstraction but a little way. If +conceptions are to serve and not to master the mind, their terms of +reference must intermittently undergo the most rigorous scrutiny. + +The use of “institutional” categories in describing political life is +indispensable, but the publicists who employ them have little to say +about the “personal” influences which modify the expected behavior of +“legislatures,” “executives,” and “judiciaries.” It is no news that +“leadership” is an important variable in predicting the course of +events, but the standard treatises on politics have next to nothing to +offer about the traits of various kinds of agitators and organizers, +and nothing to say about the kinds of experiences out of which these +differences arise. + +This limitation holds for the books about the theory of the state +and of politics which are written by Englishmen like Sidgwick and +Laski, Americans like Garner and W. W. Willoughby, and Europeans like +Jellinek, Schmidt, Kjellén, and Kelsen. No doubt these men possess +or have possessed a living sense of political realities. Of Sidgwick +it is related that he was wonderfully adept in entertaining his +circle for hours with incisive comments and amusing anecdotes about +public men. But of this “humanity” of politics there is little to +be found in what he wrote. Political biography has been relied upon +chiefly to convey a sense of the unpredictable in human affairs, and +to adorn an after-dinner tale. At its best, political biography has +contributed to an understanding of the factors which differentiate one +human personality from another. But it is no secret that the literary +biography or autobiography omits or distorts much of the intimate +history of the individual, and that many of the facts which modern +investigators have found to be important are numbered among the missing. + +Where is it possible to secure a supply of life-histories in which +the usual conventionalities are ignored, and which are taken by +specialists in the sociological, psychological, and somatic influences +which play upon the individual? There exist in modern society sizeable +collections of such material which have hitherto been accorded slight +attention by students of social science. I refer to the case histories +of those individuals who have been ill, and especially those who have +been cared for in hospitals and sanitariums.[1] + +The richest body of psychological and sociological facts is found +in the files of the institutions for the care of the mentally +disordered, although the material available in general hospitals is +of value. The case history of a patient in a good mental hospital +is a document to which many have contributed. There is a report +of the physical condition of the patient as it is revealed in the +routine examination on his admission to the institution. This may be +supplemented by transcripts of previous and subsequent examinations. +There is also to be found the rating attained by the subject on several +general-intelligence and special-aptitude tests. There is a report of +the preliminary interview and the diagnosis by the psychiatrist. This +is amplified by a summary of the proceedings at staff conferences to +which the patient is presented, and which is attended by the whole +body of physicians and psychiatric social workers attached to the +hospital. The usual routine is for the physician and social worker +in charge to present a summary of the case, to introduce the patient +for observation, and to engage in general colloquy upon the diagnosis +and therapy after the patient has been escorted out of the room. +The patient may be brought before several staff conferences for +the purpose of discussing whether he is in a condition permitting +of release, parole, or transfer. During his stay in the institution +the nurses, as well as the physicians who make rounds, add their +descriptive comments upon his behavior. The social service department +gets in touch with relatives and acquaintances and prepares a +biography of the subject. Occasionally the patient will volunteer an +autobiography, which is filed with the general record. Correspondence +with individuals who have interested themselves in the case will often +disclose valuable details. The exhibits frequently include letters +written by the patient before, during, and after his illness, together +with published works, drawings, paintings, and plastic productions. In +some instances the record of a single patient who has been admitted, +released, or transferred becomes very voluminous. + +It is due to the growing emphasis upon the importance of understanding +the personality as a functioning whole that modern medical men are +willing and anxious to assemble data about the behavior of the +individual in his family, business, and recreational relations. Such +facts are often useful to the physician in making his diagnosis and +in deciding how to handle the patient. The modern emphasis upon the +rôle of reverie in developing one’s traits and interests has led +to the inclusion of data about night dreams, daydreams, ambitions, +grievances, enthusiasms, and loyalties of the subject. Not infrequently +the productions of the patient are recorded in his own words by a +stenographer who is present during certain interviews with physicians. +All these psychological and sociological data increase the significance +of the case record for the individual who studies it for the purpose of +understanding the total developmental history of the person. + +Sometimes the case histories concern people who are without mental +disorder, but who have, for one reason or another, been committed for +observation. The German government was not the only one in the late war +which sometimes resorted to the expedient of avoiding the appearance of +internal dissension by referring pacifists to a mental hospital. The +records of the kind obtained under these circumstances are often of men +and women without pathology, and serve to control the conclusions which +rest on the study of pathological cases. + +Quite often the specifically pathological features in the record of a +sick person are very meager. Thus, one prominent politician, the mayor +of a large city, was brought to a mental hospital suffering from an +alcoholic psychosis,[2] delirium tremens. He was only “insane” (to use +a nonscientific term) when he was passing through this acute alcoholic +episode, and was soon released. But the record of what he said and did +during the delirium casts a brighter light on the deeper motivations +of his political career than many pages of conventional biography. The +hallucinations and delusions which he experienced were not entirely +stereotyped for the disease. Since he was no longer able to maintain +his repressions, his inner fantasy life came out in the clear, and his +personality structure stood revealed. Another politician showed nothing +abnormal except a propensity for collecting women’s shoe heels, which +he found sexually stimulating. He came to the medical psychologist +to be freed from his fetishist perversion, and in so doing he made +possible the preparation of a document which intimately revealed the +origin of certain political interests. From the point of view of the +political scientist the most valuable parts of his history happened +to be quite far removed from the narrowly circumscribed pathological +symptoms. + +The value of some records is enhanced by the fact that, besides the +pathological productions of the patient, they contain much information +which is volunteered by the person when he is himself again. Some +forms of mental disorder show recurrent intervals of disturbance and +normality, and during the “clear” interludes the patient is quite +competent to furnish autobiographical data. Often the “remissions” in +the individual’s condition extend over several years, although they +may be momentary. Another form of mental disease is characterized by +the fact that the sufferer’s difficulties center about a single system +of ideas which, if left untouched by the interviewer, permits him to +be dealt with as an ordinary individual. It should be evident from +the foregoing that, contrary to popular impression, the histories to +be found in institutions for the care of the sick are by no means +exclusively confined to pathological subjects or to the merely +pathological aspects of the person. + +Some of the life-histories which are summarized in this monograph come +from mental hospitals. Others have been collected from volunteers who +were outside mental institutions and who were aware of no serious +mental pathology. They have been undertaken on the understanding that +our knowledge of human nature in politics would be advanced if “normal” +individuals were studied with the same care which is often bestowed on +the abnormal. + +So the book includes persons who are “sick” and persons who are “well.” +In the main the material is printed for the first time. There are no +retrospective interpretations of historical personages. The chief unity +of the study lies in the fact that it is restricted to politically +interesting people who have been studied while alive by specialists +under conditions of unusual intimacy. + +The purpose of this venture is not to prove that politicians are +“insane.” Indeed, the specifically pathological is of secondary +importance to the central problem of exhibiting the developmental +profile of different types of public characters. Our job is not to +catalogue the symptoms at the expense of the main patterns of the +personality. We have not finished when we know that a modern Rousseau +suffered from paranoia; that a modern Napoleon has partly atrophied +genitalia; that modern Alexanders, Caesars, and Blüchers are alcoholic; +that a modern Calvin is plagued by eczema, migraine, and kidney stones; +that a modern Bismarck is hysterical; that a modern Lincoln shows +depressive pathology; that a modern Robespierre displays a eunuchoid +habitus; or that a modern Marat suffers from arthritis, diabetes, and +eczema. “Psychopathography” is legitimate and useful, but pathography +is not our aim.[3] + +Nor is it the purpose of this book to make a hit-and-miss collection +of isolated anecdotes about the relation between early experiences +and specific political traits and interests. Not that this sort of +thing is not a liberalizing experience. Our conventional schemes of +“political motivation” seem curiously aloof from the manifold reality +of human life when we discover the private basis of public acts. John +B, to choose a random instance, is a busy, aggressive, and successful +salesman who spends a great deal of time and money on the care of the +blind. He takes time away from his business to serve on the board of +governors of institutions for the blind, and he handles many financial +campaigns on their behalf. Measures looking toward the improvement +of public or private care for these unfortunates are certain of +his support before legislative committees, on the platform, and in +personal conference. The study of his early memories finally revealed +the incident in which his ardent interest in the blind was rooted. +When he was between three and four years of age, his little sister +pulled an eye out of his favorite cat, and he was terribly distressed. +His concern for the safety of his pets was the original drive toward +protective work for the blind which matured into his adult activity. +It would be possible to fill many pages with reports of “critical +experiences” of this kind, and their importance is far greater than is +usually supposed. + +If diagnostic labels and isolated anecdotes do not satisfy us, what do +we want? The answer can be succinctly stated thus: We want to discover +what developmental experiences are significant for the political traits +and interests of the mature. This means that we want to see what lies +behind agitators, administrators, theorists, and other types who play +on the public stage. Can we conceive the development of the human +personality as a functioning whole, and discern the turning-points +in the growth of various patterns of political life? Can we uncover +the typical subjective histories of typical public characters? Can we +place this subjective history in relation to the physical and cultural +factors which were developmentally significant? + +Even this ambitious project does not exhaust the scope of this study. +We want to see whether the intensive investigation of life-histories +will in any way deepen our understanding of the whole social and +political order. The life-story of a Hottentot or an American reveals +the concrete reality of images and moods as they are experienced +seriatim by those whose life is caught up in the web of violently +contrasting cultures. The trained student of society discerns a wealth +of culture patterns whose full meaning in human experience can only be +revealed by securing the subjective history of those who are exposed to +them. In some cultures the child is slapped, switched, and beaten; in +some cultures the child is rarely the target of corporal punishment. +Does this mean that the children in the first culture will harbor +revenge and welcome violence in social life? In some cultures, parental +control is negligible from the fourth to the fourteenth year, and in +other cultures supervision is strict and continuous. What difference +does this make in the developing view of the world in successive +generations? Those who are within the same culture are exposed to many +minor variations in social practice, and we may hope to ascertain the +consequences of these differences for the minds of those who undergo +them. + +This book is in harmony with a trend which has been growing in strength +in the social sciences. Social science has been moving toward the +intensive study of the individual’s account of himself. This is a +movement which is poorly conveyed by the phrase, “an interest in human +biography,” because the term “biography” is full of irrelevant literary +and historical connotations. The person’s own story is not a chronology +of everything he thought and did, nor is it an impressionistic +interpretation of what he experienced. The life-history is a natural +history, and a natural history is concerned with facts which are +_developmentally_ significant. The natural history of the earth is not +a rehearsal of every event included within the series, but a selective +account of major changes within the series. Dated events matter, but +they matter not because they have dates but because they mark phases. +When biography is treated as natural history, the purpose is to pick +and choose the principal epochs of development and to identify their +distinctive patterns. + +The study of life-histories as natural histories is a very recent +phenomenon. The social sciences have barely begun to exploit this +approach. It is of very great significance that Comte, after spending +a lifetime in the preparation of his great system, finally saw +that the capstone was missing, and at the time of his death was +frantically trying to improvise it. His projected treatise was to +deal with personality development and differentiation (_La morale_). +It was never finished. There is something symbolic of the history +of the social sciences in this story of Comte’s long preoccupation +with institutions, his belated recognition of the possibilities of +personality study, his hurried effort to make good the omission, and +the fragmentary nature of the results achieved. Social science is in +the belated-hurried-fragmentary phase of growth.[4] + +Comte’s fragment was never expanded by French sociologists. The +comparative morphology of culture became all-absorbing, and this was +concerned with the pantomime of what men did, and sporadically with +what men thought. Comte executed his earlier volumes only too well. +When the mental processes of primitives came to be studied by Durkheim +and the Durkheimians, these “primitive mentalities” were examined for +the sake of revealing highly abstract “forms” of thought, and not to +reveal the individual sequence of human experience under different +social conditions. The efforts which have been made to fill the gap +have rested upon no massing of empirical data and have been fortified +by no critical reflection on the methodological problem of improving +the reliability of the data. The most promising sign of the times +in France is the synthetic approach to social psychology which is +sponsored by Blondel at Strassbourg. + +In Germany the social scientists were so occupied with the _Streit +um Marx_ and the triumphs of the comparative historical school that +a comparative morphology of subjective histories, if one may indulge +the phrase, did not arise. The prodigious influence of Kant in the +direction of multiplying epistemological subtleties stereotyped a +penchant for high abstraction in the consideration of psychological +phenomena. The great successes of the physical sciences seemed to +rest upon the ruthless division and re-division of phenomena until +they became amenable to manipulation and control. The combination of +Kantian acuteness with scientific atomism was capable of producing the +extremes of physiological psychology and the obscurantist revulsion +against submitting the sacred mystery of personality to the coarse +indignity of exact investigation. Curiously enough, the modern era of +personality study was introduced as a protest against the laboratory +emphasis, and meant a capitulation to the spirit of scientific +irreverance. Personalities could be compared and typologized. The +pioneer was Dilthey, the philosophic historian; but neither he nor +those who followed him collected and published actual accounts of +intimate subjective experiences. Sociological overemphasis on the group +was only partially compensated in Simmel’s theoretical exposition +of individuality, but there was no happy synthesis of category +and fact in his work. The field ethnologists neglected to assemble +autobiographical accounts, and only the fine sensibilities of Vierkandt +made possible the utilization of fragments for the sake of comparing +the inner life of primitive man with that of modern man, a task which +was performed with rather more subtlety than by the French. The early +social psychological impetus of Lazarus and Steindhal produced vast +collections of folk-lore materials, but the task of threading folk lore +and folk ways onto the developmental history of representative persons +remained undone. + +The great innovator in the subjective field was Freud. His book on +dreams is one of the most unique autobiographies in history, and his +publications set the pace for those who wanted to record the actual +outpourings of the unrestrained human mind. Here at last was a truly +scientific spirit who recorded everything of which the human mind +was capable, and looked at it critically in the hope of finding the +laws of mental life. He broke through the irrelevant barriers of +conventionality and brought dark continents of data into the light of +inquiry. He proposed theories which were supposed to be tested by the +data, and devised a special procedure for securing data. + +The scientific habilitation of the anonymous, intimate life-history +document as a source for the study of culture was especially the work +of William I. Thomas. He and Florian Znaniecki undertook and completed +their remarkable study of _The Polish Peasant in Europe and America_. +One volume was devoted to a long autobiography which included the most +intimate facts in the life of a Polish immigrant to the United States. +The work of Thomas left an abiding stamp on American sociology through +the department at the University of Chicago. Franz Boas, dean of +American ethnologists, has been keenly interested in the primitive’s +story of himself, and has collected and urged the collection of many +such documents. Paul Radin published the life-story of a Winnebago +chief in 1916. The importance of “the boy’s own story” was early +recognized by William Healy in his study of delinquents, and has been +extended in every direction. + +So, in stressing the value of the study of the concrete sequence of +individual experience for political science, we are expressing a +trend of interest which is already well founded in social science. +Our quest for full and intimate histories has led to the exploitation +of a relatively new source of material, the case-history records of +hospitals. It has led to the application of psychopathological methods +to the study of normal volunteers as a control on the inferences +drawn from the institutional cases. It has led to a detailed study of +the prolonged interview technique as a method of personality study +(especially psychoanalysis), and to the formulation of improved methods +of investigation. It has led to the statement of a functional theory of +the state, a theory which springs directly from the intensive scrutiny +of actual life-histories, and the realization of what political forms +can mean when seen against the rich background of personal experience. + +These studies are admittedly incomplete. The documents relied upon +suffer from various shortcomings which have been specified in detail +at an appropriate place. The number of documents on hand is limited. +Caution would counsel deferred publication of even these materials. +But the many objections to publication have been outweighed by certain +positive advantages. The publication of such a collection of materials +will serve to familiarize the professional students of government with +the kinds of fact and interpretation which are now current among the +specialists in important fields of study. Familiarization is especially +necessary in dealing with personality histories because some of the +material is unconventional and invariably produces initial emotional +difficulties among unsophisticated readers. But science cannot be +science and limit itself to the conventional. Some of the facts are +not pretty, and they are not the topics of polite conversation. But +the medical scientists who dabble with the excretions of the human +body for the sake of diagnosing disease and understanding health are +not bound by the limitations of banality and gentility in their work. +And if political science is to become more of a reality and less of a +pseudonym, there must be discipline in dealing objectively with every +kind of fact which is conceivably important for the understanding of +human traits and interests. + +Familiarization, then, is one function of this set of studies. Another +purpose is to set up tentative hypotheses about personality growth +on the basis of available materials. The mere statement of these +hypotheses about the growth of agitators and administrators will +sharpen investigation. Perhaps those who have direct access to better +histories will be impelled to use them in checking and revising the +working conceptions herein set out. + +The general scheme of presentation begins with some chapters which +sketch the psychopathological standpoint in its historical setting +and which review the current criteria of political types. Then comes +selected life-history material. The concluding chapters discuss +the bearing of personality studies on general political theory and +criticize existing methods of study. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE PSYCHOPATHOLOGICAL APPROACH + + +One of the standing obstacles in the path of personality research +is the difficulty of describing the personality as a whole at any +given cross-section of its development. In despair at the myriad +difficulties of the task, academic psychology has long evaded the +issue and concentrated its attention upon the minute exploration of +detached aspects of the individual. The manuals of physiological +psychology are full of painstaking accounts of how atomized aspects of +the individual’s environment (the “stimuli”) modify the reactions of +selected parts of the individual. What these manuals characteristically +omit is a workable set of conceptions for the classification of the +phenomena which are the objects of investigation in personality +research. It is impossible to found a science of geology without +inventing terms to distinguish plateaus, plains, mountains, and +continental blocs, even though all these phenomena possess the common +attributes of “matter.” What matters for the geologist is how the +differences and not the likenesses come to pass. Much of the academic +psychology, in its quest for precision and prestige, has quit studying +the problem with which it is ostensibly engaged, and has substituted +a minor field of physiology therefor. In so doing, it has lost any +criterion for testing the relevance of the results of particular +researches for the understanding of personality because it has no +master concepts of personality. + +The psychopathologist has never been able to evade the necessity of +summing up the personality as a whole because he has been compelled +to make important decisions about the future of the personality as a +whole. The psychiatrist must continually decide whether John B and Mary +C will, if released from careful supervision, commit suicide or murder, +or whether they will be dependable members of the community. Thus the +clinician has found it imperative to search for signs which have high +predictive value in relation to the major social adjustments of the +individual. + +The psychopathologist has had the great advantage of seeing many +trends of the personality which are normally subordinated to other +trends when they have escaped from control and achieved Gargantuan +proportions. The clinical caricature throws into imposing relief the +constituent tendencies which make up the functioning person, and draws +attention to their presence and their processes. “Normality” involves +a complicated integration of many tendencies, a flexible capacity to +snap from one mood, preoccupation, and overt activity to another as +the changing demands of reality require. The pathological mind, if one +may indulge in a lame analogy, is like an automobile with its control +lever stuck in one gear: the normal mind can shift. One has a queer +feeling as one passes around the wards of a hospital for the custody +of the more seriously disordered patients that if one could assemble +the scattered parts of the mind that one could create at least a single +supermind. There in one corner is a melancholic who is stuck in the +mood of despondency; in another corner is a manic who is expansive +and elated; elsewhere is a man whose self-esteem has achieved cosmic +dimensions; in the back wards is a deteriorated mind in perpetual +repose. Every conceivable nuance of preoccupation and mood with which +we are normally familiar seems to be dissatisfied with its minor rôle +in a healthy integration, and intent upon autocratic mastery of the +mind. The clinical caricature draws attention as sharply as possible +to the components of the healthy mind. So every theory of pathological +manifestations must presently become expanded or assimilated into a +comprehensive account of human psychology. + +The gross clinical material reveals the intimate interrelationships +between soma and psyche. The patient who suffers from obsessive ideas +may find relief from obsession by showing hysterical symptoms; and +hysterical symptoms may clear up, only to make way for obsessive +symptoms. “Pure pictures” are almost pure theories. The patient who is +suffering from a definite organic lesion may complicate his troubles +by “worry,” and “worry” may be one of the factors in bringing about a +physical disease picture. There is evidence that psychological factors +are among those significantly operating in such diseases as common +colds, asthma, catarrh, hay fever, hyperthyroidism, gall-bladder +trouble, gastro-intestinal ulcers, irregular menstruation, and sexual +impotence. + +Fresh vitality has come into modern psychology from the clinic. The +psychopathological approach has gradually vindicated itself as more +and more of its conceptions find a permanent place in the vocabulary +of psychology and social science. Modern psychopathology is itself a +recent development, and undoubtedly the most revolutionary figure is +Sigmund Freud. + +The spectacular and influential nature of Freud’s work is sufficient +justification for devoting some space to a brief account of his +standpoint and his innovation in method. As we shall have occasion to +illustrate, his method is of more general application to practical +problems of political research and political practice than is usually +understood. + +When Freud was a student in the University of Vienna, the triumphal +progress of microscopic methods of studying cellular structure was +sweeping all before it. Congeries of mental symptoms in the living +were frequently found to be correlated with the discovery of certain +definite cerebrospinal lesions on autopsy. The future seemed to +rest wholly in the hands of those who used the dissecting knife and +the lens. Before Freud graduated from the University, he became +demonstrator to Brücke, the eminent physiologist; and he labored in +the laboratory of Meynart, the distinguished psychiatrist of his day. +Freud’s first publication was a result of laborious laboratory work. + +While materialism reigned, psychological phenomena were degraded to +the status of trivial epiphenomena. But at this very time a revival +of psychogeneticism arose in French psychiatry under the impetus of +Charcot. Charcot had achieved eminence in pathological anatomy before +he turned in middle life to the study of mental maladies. By 1883 he +had demonstrated the possibility of producing hysterical symptoms +by means of ideas (verbal stimuli). Time and again he hypnotized +individuals and produced muscular contractures, hypersensitivity, and +hyposensitivity, together with allied symptoms of hysteria. + +Breaking away from the laboratories of Vienna, Freud journeyed to the +Salpêtrière Hospital in Paris to work with Charcot, where he stayed +from the autumn of 1886 to the spring of 1887. Here he was thrown in +touch with the current of ideas which was giving concrete content to +the notion of the “out of conscious” and its dynamic consequences for +human behavior. Pierre Janet was busily accumulating the observations +which were published to the world in 1889 under the title, +_L’automatisme psychologique_. Early chapters appeared in the _Revue +philosophique_ as early as 1886. + +Freud had just missed a spectacular rise to fame when he failed to +recognize the anaesthetic possibilities of cocaine in surgery. He +published a review of the literature on cocoa; and a young Vienna +colleague, Koller, struck by some of the data which Freud had +assembled, announced the discovery in 1884 which immortalized his name +in medical history. Freud pondered for many years on why the idea +should have eluded him, and perhaps his desertion of the laboratory was +due to his sense of partial failure. + +In Paris he acquired a point of view which was bound to bring him into +conflict with the materialistic pundits of Vienna. Hypnotism was itself +looked upon as an artifice of charlatans. Wagner-Jauregg reflected the +ruling tradition when, only a few years ago, he said, “The trouble +with hypnotism is that you never know who is pulling the other +fellow’s leg.” Freud was met by derisive laughter when he announced +at the Medical Society of Vienna that male hysterics were to be found +in Paris. For hysteria, as one of the pedants reminded him, was +philologically derived from “hysteron,” meaning uterus, and therefore +couldn’t possibly occur in males. This was an echo of the days when +hysteria was supposed to be due to a migratory uterus and women were +turned upside down to bring it back in place. + +In 1881 and 1882 Breuer had treated a girl suffering from hysteria, +and his interest was renewed in the case in conversation with Freud. +Breuer remembered that when he treated the patient under hypnosis, she +recalled the first episode in which a symptom had appeared, related +it with every evidence of excitement, and discovered on waking that +the symptom had disappeared. Breuer and Freud began to study hysteria +from this point of view and published their results. Charcot had +demonstrated that ideas could cause hysteria; Breuer had found that the +discovery of pathogenic ideas could cure hysteria. + +In 1889 Freud returned to France, this time to the other center of +hypnotic research, Nancy, where Liébeault and Bernheim were doing +remarkable things. Freud here saw something the full significance of +which did not at once dawn upon him. + +A subject was hypnotized and given a “post-hypnotic suggestion” to +raise an umbrella at a certain signal after coming out of hypnosis. +The subject was then awakened from hypnosis, and presently, when the +stipulated signal was given, obediently raised the umbrella, although +still inside the room. When asked why he raised the umbrella, _he +said that he wanted to see whether it was his or not_. Thus did he +rationalize (a concept later developed) the gratification of an impulse +_which he did not himself at first recognize_. When challenged to +explain himself, he merely produced a plausible interpretation of his +own conduct. + +The immense significance of this train of events is great enough. It at +once raises the searching question: To what extent are we in ignorance +of our own motives and accustomed to improvise merely plausible +explanations of and to ourselves? But an even more notable phenomenon +occurred. _If the subject was asked again and again to try to remember +why he raised the umbrella, he sooner or later recalled (to his own +surprise) that he had been commanded to do it._ + +The full import of this observation did not instantly dawn on Freud. +But he continued to have difficulties with the patients whom he sought +to hypnotize. They sometimes held out against his suggestions, even +though they had accepted them many times before, and seriously impeded +the progress of the search for the traumatic episode. He gradually +abandoned hypnosis, leaving the patient in a waking state in a relaxed +position with instructions to report every incident connected with the +early appearance of the symptom under investigation. Vestiges of the +hypnotic technique remained as late as 1895, when he would still lay +his hand on the patient’s forehead as a stimulus to recollection. + +This method also encountered crippling difficulties. A patient would +sometimes lie for hours without saying a word, totally unable to +recover a relevant reminiscence. To meet this obstacle, Freud presently +hit upon the simple expedient upon which he thenceforth relied. He +instructed the patient to say anything and everything that popped in +his head, regardless of its propriety, logic, or triviality. + +Freud found that all ramblings of his patient could furnish him with +clues to the underlying and unavowed impulses of the sufferer. He +became able to guess the nature of the buried episode in which the +impulse had received its present type of manifestation. Thus the +patient might begin by saying that she had seen a red-headed man in the +street and that she always despised red-headed men--except of course +her dear brother. Day after day apparently random allusions would build +out the picture of her great interest in anything reminiscent of her +brother’s looks and acts, all of which would be bitterly condemned. But +if she were asked directly, she would maintain that her brother was a +fine, upstanding man, and a credit to the family. + +The analyst, after listening to the eddies of talk, and noting the +patterns along which they seemed to whirl, would presently locate +a hidden rock beneath the innocent surface of the stream--in this +case, an unacknowledged load of hatred against her brother. Bit by +bit, stories of real or fancied childhood tyranny would come floating +along the stream. Then suddenly, amid tears and violent gestures, +might come the story of a long-forgotten incident which involved an +intimate aggression on the part of the brother. The patient, manifestly +relieved, might speedily recover from her hysterical disabilities and +return to the active responsibilities of life. + +Freud’s theory of what he saw began modestly enough, leaned heavily +upon Charcot, Bernheim, and Breuer, and was mostly founded upon +observations made upon patients who were handled by hypnosis and not by +the new procedure which later was called psychoanalysis. He published a +contribution to the theory of the psychoneuroses in which he laid down +the proposition that a distinction could be drawn between one group, +the anxiety neuroses, which depended on mental conflict, and the actual +neuroses, which were not due to mental conflict but to masturbation and +coitus interruptus. In the first case, mental energy was converted into +bodily symptoms, and in the latter case bodily energy was supposed to +be converted into bodily symptoms. In Freud’s early articles there is +little to forecast the course which he was to follow as his brilliant +imagination viewed the behavior of the individual from the new vantage +ground which he had discovered.[5] + +Whether his particular theories survive or fall, the standpoint which +he achieved by ruthlessly applying his method is of the greatest +value. His method, which grew from the necessities of an exasperated +physician, led him _systematically to treat every manifestation of +the individual as part of a related whole_. Freud’s mental set had +been furnished by the data of hypnosis, which seemed to show that +patients suffer from reminiscences. When he dropped hypnosis and tried +to force recollections, his mental set had not altered, for he was +still in search of the original, the traumatic episode. When he asked +his patients to say anything that came into their heads, he was still +hunting the elusive memory of a definite early experience. But quite +without realizing it, his original mental set had widened, and with +momentous consequences for his own subsequent development. If one were +given to exaggerations, one could say that the world of psychological +investigation had suddenly begun to turn on a new axis. + +What was the nature of this new mental set? Intently watching his +patients, not for word for word accounts of what had happened, and +looking upon everything else as “irrelevant,” Freud learned to look +for meanings and not for reports. Every dream, every phrase, every +hesitation, every gesture, every intonation, every outburst began +to take on significance as possible allusions to the “traumatic” +episode. Allusions to hated objects, reminiscent of a brother, failure +to mention a hated sister until days had passed, although other +members of the family had been passed in review--every deviation from +comprehensiveness--was eagerly scrutinized for the clue it might afford. + +The technique of therapy consisted in using clues to facilitate the +patient’s search for relief. The problem was to discover the nature +of the patient’s conflict and to volunteer interpretations for the +sake of helping the patient to dare to bring into full consciousness +the unavowed impulse which had once frightened his socially adjusted +self into frantic repression. This involved the interpretation of the +symptom as a compromise product of the patient’s ideal of conduct; and +the out-of-conscious impulse, which, though denied access to the full +consciousness of the sufferer, possessed enough strength to procure +partial gratification. The symptom was thus a symptom of conflict +between the socially adapted portion of the self and the unadapted +impulses of the personality, and the symptom was a compromise between +partial gratification of the illicit and partial punishment by the +conscience. The particular form of the “conflict” depended upon the +traumatic experience and the antecedent history of the individual. + +Far more important than these therapeutic elaborations is the shift +in standpoint which made them possible. Since Freud was on the search +for the literal by way of the symbolic, he raised hitherto neglected +manifestations of human behavior to the dignity of significant symbols, +wrote them out, and introduced them into the literature of human +behavior. There could be no sharper illustration of the prepotency of +“mental set” for the seeing of “facts” than the difference between +the clinical reports of Freud and Janet. Freud, convinced that the +eluctable energies of the organism could betray themselves in every +image and in every gesture, painstakingly recorded the dreams and +day-fantasies of his patients. Janet, who continued to assume that +dreams were nonsensical confusions attributable to the diminished +tension of the sleeping organism, seldom made any allusion to dreams. +His pellucid description of grimaces, gestures, sentiments, and +theories of his patients led back to relatively recent moments when the +patient failed of adjustment. This failure of the patient to mobilize +his energies in smooth adaptation to the exigencies of social reality +was then imputed to a defective biopsychical mechanism, to a lowered +“psychological tension,” due to a miscellany of possible causes, among +which was mentioned “the exhaustive effects of emotional excitement.” +Therapy consisted in restoring the capacity of the individual to +mobilize and deploy his energies at the highest “levels” of adjustment. +This was to be achieved by a variety of means--by hypnotic suggestion, +rest in a simplified environment, and the usual repertory of the +psychotherapist. + +But the golden flash of psychological insight eluded Janet. At bottom +he had little respect for the concrete reality of the mental life of +his patients. Although he talked the language of psychogeneticism, it +had a poor and not a rich connotation in his mind. I think this is +due to his too exclusive reliance upon hypnotism, for the mental set +of the hypnotist is derogatory to most of the concrete productions +of the patient. The patient, one feels with a shrug, will presently +come to the important experience; why take the superimposed material +too seriously? Then, too, the patient may be put in order by direct +command. Janet relates with some pride how people in the waiting-room +of his office would marvel when a woman, bent nearly double, would be +admitted into his sanctum, presently to emerge, erect and cured--until +the effect wore off. + +Freud learned a new respect for the concrete reality of mental life in +his concentrated effort to divine the hidden conflict without resorting +to hypnosis. His weakness as a hypnotist was in a sense the beginning +of wisdom. A patient who is deeply hypnotized is but infrahuman. +Barring commands which do violence to the moral code of the individual, +the subject will passively execute the commands of the hypnotist. The +patient descends from a complicated “nearly normal” person to a waxy +caricature of a human being. The unhypnotized patient of Freud is in +relatively full possession of all the resources of the ordinary waking +self, and must be dealt with as a complex human being. + +The widest gateway to psychoanalytic development became the study +of dreams. And here again we are dealing with something which came, +not from laborious reflection upon underlying concepts, but from the +urgencies of the clinical situation. Just as we found that Freud had +taken up a new post of observation in practice before he discovered +its implications in theory, we find that in such a detail as the +investigation of dreams, his theoretical preoccupations contributed +less than his everyday necessities. Freud’s patients continually thrust +their dreams upon him; and he, now in pursuit of clues to what lay +behind, presently took them seriously, and found in them many helpful +indications of unspoken things. He would assist the free-fantasies of +the patient by asking what came into his mind about any detail of the +dream, and he attentively followed the long chains of superficially +meaningless associations. + +It began to appear that Freud had stumbled upon, and then brilliantly +elaborated the possibilities inherent in, a new way of using the mind. +He trained his patients in a technique of free-fantasy which they +could subsequently use for themselves as a supplement to the logical +technique which society ostensibly tries to foster. It at once appeared +that he had discovered a method of thinking which was applicable far +beyond the confines of the clinic and which could be added to the +repertory of the mind. + +The interpretation of dreams was the bridge which brought Freud from +the confines of the clinic to the analysis of the whole psychology +of individual development. The dreams of patients and the dreams of +non-pathological persons showed such homogeneity of symbolism that +the gap between the “normal” and the “sick” seemed to close. Popular +lore already furnished a clue to dreams as wish-fulfilments, whether +found in the “well” or “ill,” but popular lore also treated them as +reminiscences, prophecies, and omens, or as confusions, depending on +the transitory context of the moment. Freud had a double orientation +in dealing with the individual. He regarded him as motivated in the +present by impulses which eluded his own consciousness. He regarded +these motivations as having achieved their present form in concrete +historical events in the life of the individual. The nature of the +present could be made clear to the conscious mind if the organizing +episode could be recalled. This recall could be greatly facilitated by +paying special attention to the “irrational” or non-adjustive aspects +of the person’s present conduct. The “irrational” would seem rational +enough if the unacknowledged motives were made manifest, and if the +historical as well as the contemporary allusions were sought after. +Sooner or later the unrecognized motives would disclose themselves in +consciousness, if the individual waited attentively; but the process +could be greatly helped by using a different style of thinking than the +logical. + +No one has more dramatically and repeatedly shown the limitations (as +well as the advantages) of logical procedures of thought than Freud. +No one has made a more important contribution to the technique of +supplementing logical thought by other methods of thought than Freud. +This is the aspect of Freud’s work which has immediate and constant +relevance to political as to every other sort of thinking, and to which +it is important to devote more extended consideration. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A NEW TECHNIQUE OF THINKING[6] + + +The prevailing theory is that men who make important decisions in +politics can be trained to use their minds wisely by disciplinary +training in the practices of logical thought. Legal training is +supposed to mold the mind to ways of dealing with the world which +subordinate whim to principle. Formal instruction in the social +sciences is intended to equip the mind for the detached consideration +of social consequences, and everyone agrees that this implies a +large measure of self-awareness for the sake of reducing the play of +prejudice. + +The nature of logical thought has been carefully examined by an array +of able writers. Their conclusions may be provisionally reported by +saying that logic is a guided form of mental operation. It is not +something marked off from impulse, but a progressive elaboration +and differentiation of impulse. It proceeds by the affirmation of a +starting-point, which is in fact a vague indication of the goal to be +reached, and develops by the criticism of the material which appears +in consciousness according to its relevance to the end in view. If +the judge begins by wanting to settle a controversy consistently with +precedents, he has indicated in advance the shadowy outline of the +desired termination of his efforts. If an administrator wants to reduce +complaints against his handling of the postal service, he starts with +a different mental set from the judge, but, like the mental set of the +latter, his first act is to bring into view the state of affairs which +he hopes to find when he quits thinking. He is accustomed to guide the +operations of his mind by this preliminary characterization of the +terminus sought. No thinker can haul into the center of attention the +material which indicates how the terminal situation is to be attained. +The thinker must wait attentively for whatever appears. If he wants +to deal with such a simple practical matter as getting to the railway +station, and his mind continues to fill with images of the one he left +behind him, his accustomed means of asserting control is to reiterate +the practical end and to hope that he can “keep his mind on” taxicabs +or autobusses. Alternating with periods of reiteration and expectancy +and illumination are episodes of “No” and “Yes,” which evidence the +existence of guided thought. + +It would be misleading to stop with this formal description of the +characteristics of logical thinking. Logical thinking is not a +hocus-pocus to be applied here and there and everywhere. The previewing +of events presupposes familiarity with the sorts of events to which +the previewing relates. It usually involves analysis of the contingent +future in the light of analogies with the past, which is simply a +means of refining general familiarity through systematic methods of +inspecting reality. General knowledge of lending and borrowing must +be supplemented, for many purposes, by detailed examination of the +quantitative dimensions of various routines. The precise nature of the +relationship between changes in the rediscount rate and the price of +call money requires analysis far beyond impressionistic familiarity. + +There need be no illusion that the specification of the terminal +situation provides an immovable constant for thought. We can imply, as +we have implied, that logical thinking begins by sketching a figure on +the canvass and leaves the details to be filled in during the course of +the thinking. But the starting-point is often subject to many shifts, +and the initial sketch is more or less subject to remaking. The judge +who starts in pursuit of consistency-with-precedent characteristically +must add conformity-to-principles-of-policy. A plurality of ends is +always involved, and usually appears. + +Everybody knows that the pluralism of ends goes far beyond “official” +ends. A sophisticated and discerning judge may discover an embarrassing +conflict in the controlling precedents, and cast about for other social +purposes than conformity-to-precedent to guide him. He may scrutinize +the principal economic, cultural, and political changes in the society +in which he operates, and discern the appearance of a new set of rising +dominant values, and decide to diminish the cost of social change by +seeking to facilitate their introduction. If this hypothetical judge +believes that he should not consciously enact his private prejudices +into law, and if the social values are so confused that uncertainty +rules, the judge is well advised to flip a coin (in chambers) and +govern his decision accordingly. If the judge finds himself favorably +disposed toward any alternative to begin with, he will take himself +as an object of investigation to determine the extent and origin of +his prejudice. His logic thus involves the use of self-scrutiny for +the exposure of private values which load the dice for or against +a particular point of view. Besides the values which are “public,” +there are complicating values which are the residue of one’s “private” +history. + +All these points are stressed in greater or less degree in the current +writing on the use of the mind. The avowed purpose of our professional +schools is to increase the amount of logical reflection in the world, +and the set complaint is that people somehow or another manage to think +very clumsily. In spite of our best efforts to disseminate logicality, +people are always “letting their prejudices run away with them,” even +when they have a baggage of good intentions. + +The stock alibi for the failure of the schools to improve the +character of thinking among those who hold positions of power is +that the human mind offers a perverse opacity to the rays of reason. +Somehow or other our training doesn’t take; but this is attributed +not to the deficiencies of logic but to the resistances to it. All +this is reminiscent of the reply of the Christian to the taunt that +Christianity has failed. He says that Christianity isn’t to blame, but +the lack of it. The logicians say that the cure of bad logic is more +and better logic. If the human mind refuses to be educated, that’s just +too bad. + +Our thesis is that our faith in logic is misplaced. Exclusive +emphasis upon logic (even where logic is adroitly used) incapacitates +rather than fits the mind to function as a fit instrument of reality +adjustment. + +The supposition that emotional aberrations are to be conquered by +heroic doses of logical thinking is a mistake. The absence of effective +logic is a symptom of a disease which logic cannot itself cure. We have +been misled by supposing that the mind can rely upon a single technique +of operation when this isolated technique has serious limitations. + +A totally different technique of thinking is needed to get on with +the task of ridding the mind of the distorting results of unseen +compulsions. Since our schools have found no place for the cultivation +of this additional technique of thinking, our judges and administrators +and policy-makers are turned loose on the world armed with faith in +logic and incapable of making their minds safe for logic. Logical +thinking is but one of the special methods of using the mind, and +cannot itself achieve an adequate inspection of reality because it is +unable to achieve self-knowledge without the aid of other forms of +thinking. + +The technique of free-fantasy offers many points of contrast with +logical thinking. It is unguided rather than guided association. From +a given starting-point, no effort is bent toward the exclusion of the +trivial, the trite, the embarrassing, the filthy, the nonsensical. The +mind is permitted to run hither and yon. It is hospitable to everything +which germinates in the mind, and is subject only to the effort to +steer clear of the molds of logical thinking. There is no specific +definition of an objective, and no intermittent intervention in the +flow of material to register its pertinence or impertinence to this +rather specific objective. + +Free-fantasy is not to be confused with free word associations which +begin with simple stimulus words and end when the first few words +which pop into the mind are put down. Free-fantasy is not a momentary +relaxation of selective criticism, but prolonged emancipation from +logical fetters. + +Free-fantasy differs from the ordinary daydream, the night dream, and +the visions which arise in sleeping or waking by the circumstance that +it is embarked upon with the vague, generalized purpose of rendering +available new subject matter for logical thought. The frequent +interventions which characterize logical procedures are suspended, +the better to serve the ultimate purposes of reality adjustment. +Daydreaming which is not used for this general purpose does not +represent a technique for using the mind. + +The ultimate paradox of logical thinking is that it is self-destroying +when it is too sedulously cultivated. It asserts its own prerogatives +by clamping down certain restrictive frames of reference upon the +activity of the mind, and presently ends in impoverishing the activity +which it purports to guide into creative channels. It becomes +intolerant of the immediate, unanalyzed, primitive abundance of the +mind, and by so doing destroys its own source. + +More seriously, too, for the mind which is engaged with social life, +logical procedures exclude from the mind the most important data about +the self. Directed thinking, whether about the self or something +else as an object, is impatient of the seemingly trivial, and this +impatience with the seemingly trivial is the rationally acceptable +guise in which the impulse to avoid rigorous self-scrutiny gets itself +accepted. The mind which is freely fantasying produces distasteful +evidence of the facts about the self which the socialized self wants to +avoid. This is why free-fantasy is not learned by rote, but achieved +through trying experiences, usually under prolonged supervision. + +There are wide individual differences in acquiring the technique +of free-fantasy. Logical controls are often so gradually released +that progress is almost imperceptible for several weeks of daily +contact with a psychoanalytic interviewer. Frequently, of course, +the logical controls fall away quite rapidly, and the exposure of +the underlying preoccupations proceeds apace. Freud developed the +technique, and drills his subjects, largely in relation to their +dreams, but this is in no sense its exclusive application. The purpose +of the psychoanalytic interview is not served if the patient is merely +relieved of a few annoying symptoms; its purpose is to equip him with +a means of handling his mind which will enable him to go it alone. In +developing the free-fantasy procedure, Freud added a powerful tool +to the repertory of those who would use their mind with some hope +of disentangling themselves from the compulsive domination of many +vestigial remains of their “private” histories. + +It is quite possible to train people to use the free-fantasy method +with considerable success and to outfit them with a device which they +can use in the ordinary problems of professional and private life.[7] +The instances which I shall presently adduce are from the fantasies +which were produced by a judge in the course of a series of interviews +which he undertook after his curiosity about the method had been +aroused by the therapeutic treatment of a member of his family. Any +specific allusions are disguised. + +One day the judge commented at the beginning of the interview that +a certain attorney irritated him in some unexplained way. He found +himself acutely conscious of his own prejudice against the man, and +in trying to deal fairly with him often leaned over backward and +showed him an embarrassing favoritism in sustaining his objections. +There was always a struggle to hold the balance even. This seemed to +indicate the conspicuous operation of some unrecognized set of motives +in relation to this particular individual. The judge, who was already +partly skilled in the use of free-fantasy, began to report whatever +came into his mind at the mention of the attorney, without regard to +logic or scruple. “Cigar smoke ... black cigar ... vile and pungent +and stuffy ... corridor ... courtroom ...,” and so on and on. The word +“corridor” reappeared several times in the course of his associations, +and the interviewer initiated a new chain by using the word as a +stimulus. After some time, there came up a vivid memory of an incident +in the corridor of the law school where the judge had studied. A +fellow-student, who was a man with a great reputation as a promising +mind, dropped cigar ashes by accident on the judge’s overcoat. The +judge remembered his angry impulse to “sock” the offender, an impulse +which he instantly subdued, and that he accepted the apology, which +seemed to end the incident. Associations were continued to find why the +brilliant rival had so incensed the judge, and the trail led back to +certain incidents and reveries in early adolescence, but this material +is not relevant here. The connection of his hostility toward his former +rival with the attorney before him was due to one of the attorney’s +mannerisms, which recalled the way the student had flecked ashes +off the end of his cigar. When this tie was exposed, the compulsive +animosity and the overcompensatory reactions disappeared from the +attitude of the judge in relation to the attorney. + +Another illustrative detail may be taken almost at random from the +record. On one occasion the judge began to enumerate the three +principal alternatives which lay before him in deciding a pending case. +He remembered two of them but hesitated several seconds before the +third came into his mind. This led him to remember that he had often +casually noticed that this third possibility seemed to elude him, +although on reflection he felt that it deserved as much attention as +the other two. He began spontaneously to relax and report everything +that crossed his mind, and produced a long string of catch phrases +from law and politics like “freedom of contract,” “life, liberty, +and pursuit of happiness,” “freedom of speech and assembly.” He +presently noted that a picture was forming of one of his old law-school +classrooms. He felt that someone was just about to speak to him, and +had to resist the temptation to turn around. Then there came across +his mind a long series of incidents in which one of his law professors +was the principal figure. This teacher was reputed to possess a +mastermind and a caustic tongue; and the judge, though he had always +wanted to make a great impression on him, had met with no particular +success. The professor had a habit of using his most ironic tone of +voice when he spoke of “this freedom of contract.” Now it happened +that the attorney who was arguing for alternative No. 3 before the +court pronounced the word “freedom” with unction. This aroused in the +judge’s mind the ironic tone of the old professor’s voice, and this +in turn brought back the rather humiliating failure he had been in +his efforts to impress the professor. He now exhibited a tendency to +repress everything connected with the episode, including the attorney’s +argument. + +The world about us is much richer in meanings than we consciously +see. These meanings are continually cutting across our ostensible +criteria of judgment, and compulsively distorting the operations of +the mind whose quest for an objective view of reality is consciously +quite sincere. Good intentions are not enough to widen the sphere +of self-mastery. There must be a special technique for the sake of +exposing the hidden meanings which operate to bind and cripple the +processes of logical thought. With practice one may wield the tool +of free-fantasy with such ruthless honesty that relevant material +comes very quickly to the focus of attention which we call “waking +consciousness.” + +It would be possible to fill many volumes with illustrations of the +hitherto unseen meanings which have been discovered by men and women +who have learned to use the free-fantasy technique. They have often +been able to find how and why their emotions tended to be aroused +favorably or unfavorably toward individuals of their own or the +opposite sex who exhibited certain traits, and to understand why they +tended to choose certain secretaries, to sponsor certain protégés, and +to be impressed by certain witnesses and attorneys. They have been +able to inspect the phraseology of law, politics, and culture, and to +extricate themselves from many of the logically irrelevant private +meanings which they read into it. + +Freud developed the technique of free-fantasy well over a quarter of +a century ago, but it is still beyond the pale of the schools. Our +professional and graduate schools make no effort to readjust their +methods to fit the minds of future men of authority for self-knowledge. +The sententious admonitions to “know thyself” are no adequate +substitute for special discipline in the ways of self-understanding. + +We have tried to cure the failures of logical training by homeopathic +doses of sermonizing, rather than by the discipline of supplementary +techniques of using the mind. The mind is a fit instrument of +reality testing when both blades are sharpened--those of logic and +free-fantasy. Until this fundamental proposition is adequately +comprehended, the professional training of our judges, administrators, +and theorists will continue to furnish discipline in self-deception +rather than self-analysis. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE CRITERIA OF POLITICAL TYPES + + +The free-fantasy method of exploring the mind is of very general +application to the problems of life. In particular we are interested +in examining the results of its use for the purpose of laying bare the +natural history of personality growth and differentiation. All sorts of +politicians are met with in society, and our special task is to relate +the selection of these adult rôles to certain critical experiences in +individual development. But before we can proceed farther, we need +to examine the nature of the criteria which are currently used in +identifying various political types. + +The popular speech of every state and neighborhood swarms with names +for varieties of political behavior and types of politicians. The study +of political differences may very well begin by sifting the common +vocabulary. Some of the popular images are derived from experience with +government officials. Within the last hundred years the policeman has +appeared over Western Europe, and a history of the popular conception +of his rôle could be written around terms like “bobby,” “cop,” and +“_Schupo_.” Whatever differences in dress, manner, social position, +and common humanity are supposed to exist between a “civil servant,” a +“_Beamter_,” and a “_fonctionnaire_,” there are common lineaments in +the composite stereotype. A thick chapter in human experience could be +entitled “The Bureaucrat,” wherein would be recorded the innuendo of +popular comment on a necessary evil. The “legislator” is identifiable +through all the detailed contrasts between the “congressman,” the +“M.P.,” and the “M.d.R.” + +The popular tongue is rich in expressions which fill out the +official cast of characters in the political drama by peopling the +public stage with figures whose traits are essentially irrelevant +to their office. There are men of ideas--“anarchist,” “socialist,” +“liberal,” “communist,” “conservative.” There are men of ideas and of +action--“reformer,” “revolutionary,” “martyr.” The history of American, +British, French, German, medieval, Graeco-Roman, and every civilization +could be written for the sake of showing how the carriers of public +power figured in the eyes of the various groups within and without the +culture. + +This profusion of types in the popular firmament of politics is +supplemented by the types which have been isolated by serious students +of culture, who have sought to impose order upon the life of the past. +Among the political forms which have been described by the historians, +the “benevolent despot” of the eighteenth century, the “demagogue” of +Athenian democracy, the “prince” of the Italian Renaissance, and the +“despot” of the oriental empires spring at once to mind. The masterly +sketch of the evolution of the public official with which Max Weber[8] +has enriched social science is, it is to be hoped, the forerunner of +many elaborate studies. The traits and arts of political leaders have +been most systematically handled by Aristotle, Machiavelli, Robert +Michels, Christensen, and Charles E. Merriam.[9] + +These typologies, whether popular or scientific, possess several +features in common. They may converge to what is practically the same +picture. When W. B. Munro described the “reformer,” he filled out the +popular image which arose in the American mind at a certain phase +of American political evolution.[10] Practically every scientific +conception is a refinement and generalization of some term in general +circulation, though with local connotations. + +The scientific and the popular typologies may include the same kinds +of fact as their starting-points. The fact of supposed political +conviction gave rise to the “liberal,” but it is a far cry from the +rather shadowy lines of the popular image to the finely wrought +lineaments of Ruggiero.[11] The means employed in encompassing +political objectives christen the “lobbyist,” “propagandist,” and +“agitator.” The idea that private motives are not merged in public +motives is carried in “renegade,” “sorehead,” and “tyrant.” The idea +that private motives have been firmly fused into public purposes is +one connotation of the “martyr.” The fact of informal ascendancy is +celebrated in the “boss.” In the “bureaucrat” it is implied that the +office has molded the man, and that the office tends to attract those +especially likely to develop such qualities. The Western European idea +of a judge almost necessarily refers to a functionary who carries +certain paraphernalia and proceeds with ceremony. The leanness of the +“fanatical agitator” figured in the popular mind long before Kretschmer +gave it his scientific blessing.[12] + +Both popular and scientific conceptions range from the particular to +the general. The British “election agent” is closely bound to a recent, +special social setting. The “leader” keeps a stable nucleus of meaning +for the description of a social rôle among widely separated peoples in +widely separated periods. + +Popular and scientific conceptions are at one in that they may present +developmental and not merely descriptive implications. The notion of +a lean and bitter agitator is not entirely a static, cross-sectional +description of a fortuitous juxtaposition of traits, but a hypothesis +that bodily irritations operate dynamically to foster the selection of +forms of activity which enable the individual to give rather free vent +to his animosities. + +Both popular and scientific types may be taken as objects of study +to determine the factors in their formation. The popular idea of a +“reformer” in America bears a certain photographic resemblance to +actual personalities who figured as public advocates of restrictive +laws. It is possible to study the process by which the stereotype of +the lean and spinsterly kill-joy arose, and to see why it persisted. +Every body politic has its gallery of political mummers, and +political history needs to be rewritten to explain the unique and +the typical qualities of these popularly conceived rôles. Stuart A. +Rice has developed a technique for the identification of contemporary +stereotypes of this kind.[13] Rice took photographs of a senator, a +bolshevik, and a bootlegger, and after obliterating the names asked +various test groups to tell what designation best fitted each picture. +By examining the erroneous identifications, it became possible to +detect the mental pattern popularly associated with the class name. + +An interesting contribution to social science would be the detailed +examination of the factors affecting the rise and fall of those +political typologies which have been seriously proposed by scholars. +The exaggerated picture of the omnipotent leader drawn by Carlyle no +doubt had something to do with Carlyle’s sexual impotence and his +compensatory idealization of the potent; but the popularity which this +exaggeration enjoyed among certain classes of English society was due +to the dislocation of older economic institutions and the rise of +threatening collective ideologies. The new business enterpriser felt +the intoxicating vanity of the self-made man, and the decayed landlords +felt the necessity of individualistic protests against the age of +cities and machines. + +Suppose we examine in more detail the intellectual structure of +scientific political types. This requires special attention to the two +terms involved, the “political” and the “types.” Two ways of defining +the “political” are current in social science. I will speak of them as +the “institutional” and the “functional” methods of definition. Within +any community there are many patterns of activity whose form and whose +magnitude may be singled out for study. There is the production and +distribution of material goods and services; the main patterns by which +these operations proceed can be called the economic institutions of the +community. There is the settlement of disputes, and the defense and +extension of interests which are believed to be collective; these are +the political or governmental institutions of the community. In the +same way religious, charitable, and a host of other institutions may be +discerned. + +These institutionally derived categories fall short of clarity and +comprehensiveness. Some social processes occur within the framework +of every institutional process. Thus the settlement of disputes is +a prominent characteristic of government as we know it; but it is +not, and never has been, and cannot by the nature of things be, a +monopoly of government when government is defined as an institutional +division of social labor. No institution ever quite monopolizes the +function which it most distinctively exercises. But this need not +lead to confusion. When the settlement of disputes is a prominent +function of one group in society, and there is no other group which +participates in the same function in the same degree, there is no +hesitation in deciding to call the first group the “governors” and to +call the patterns according to which they are selected and operate the +“political or governmental” institutions of the community. If there is +a rival adjuster of differences, the distinction is by no means clear, +as when the “church,” “business,” and the “state” are rivals. Perhaps +the governors can be identified by finding who it is who handles the +coercion employed in defending or extending communal enterprises, +though this criterion may from time to time fail to differentiate. +But, on the whole, these doubts are marginal doubts. Ordinarily it is +possible to find a division of labor and a set of sentiments which +can be called the “government of the state.” The marginal instances +call attention to the fact to which allusion has been made, the +fact that no “institutional” process quite monopolizes the function +which it most distinctively exercises. It is therefore advisable to +describe communal processes by two sets of terms, one of which refers +to “institutions” and the other to “functions” which are found within +the various institutional frameworks. Much of the literature of +social science consists in terminological quibbles about the “proper” +words to use in this institutional or functional sense, often without +appreciating the essential nature of the matter at issue. It is, of +course, of the highest importance to understand the difference, and of +minor importance to agree upon the words with which to describe the +distinction. + +From what has been said, it is clear that a word like “political” may +be given an “institutional” or a “functional” meaning in a particular +context, and that--and this is the most important consequence--any +contribution to the understanding of the “institutional” process is a +contribution to the understanding of the wider “functional” process, +and the reverse. In this resides the unity of the social sciences. The +apparent disunity arises from the differences in starting-point of +particular inquiries. One begins with a series of phenomena which are +selected from a single institutional process, and another begins with +a series of phenomena which are selected from several institutional +processes according to some functional conception. + +This unity of destination and disunity of starting-point is abundantly +manifested in the scientific study of human behavior. The specialist +on some phase of the political process, institutionally conceived, +who is asked to classify the types of political behavior, devises +his categories on the basis of the institutional processes which he +knew best. It would be possible, were it worth the effort, to pass in +review the typologies which have been propounded from time to time +by specialists in executive organization, public administration, +judicial administration, legislation, political parties, propaganda +and conspirative organizations, political revolution, nationalism, +imperialism, interstate methods of adjustment (war, diplomacy, +conference, adjudication, mediation, arbitration), and all the other +topics in political science. + +At first glance, the functional method of defining political types +would seem to lead to even greater congeries of categories than the +institutional method. From the functional standpoint politics is found +wherever, to use the older terminology, “wills” are in conflict. This +implies that intensely political manifestations in society are not +confined to government officials and parties, but to banking houses, +manufacturing enterprises, distributing services, ecclesiastical +organizations, fraternal associations, and professional societies. +It is probable that the most aggressive, power-lusting individuals +in modern society find their way into business, and stay out of the +legislature, the courts, the civil service, and the diplomatic service. +If this be true, the student of political personalities will find the +most interesting objects of study in J. P. Morgan and Company, in the +United States Steel Corporation, and among the clerical or educational +or medical politicians. + +It follows from what has been said that the study of politicians who +are chosen from a single institutional process makes a contribution +to the general study of politicians in every institutional process, +and that the conscious abstraction of categories until they are +comprehensive opens a wider range of exact comparison. This may +eventuate in an actual simplification of some fundamental conceptions. +Of course, institutional processes differ in the scope which they give +to certain human drives. Today the church offers less opportunity for +the use of physical violence than it did in the sixteenth century, and +very much less opportunity than the police force, the private detective +agency, or the political gang. + +The advantages of comprehensiveness and possible simplification have +been sacrificed by the political scientists of the schools because +they have conceived their task in too narrow a spirit. They have +been slow in studying the manifestations of human nature in politics +because they have been saturated with sectarian pride in legal and +philosophical distinctions; or they have checked their theories with +their coats, and plunged into technical work. A body of theory which +interacts fruitfully with philosophy, law, and technology is still very +poorly developed. The formal sociological systems have been sacked for +“premises” but neglected for hypotheses. (Witness the exploitation of +the concept of “solidarity” in recent juridical theory.) The task of +the hour is the development of a realistic analysis of the political in +relation to the social process, and this depends upon the invention of +abstract conceptions and upon the prosecution of empirical research. +It is precisely this missing body of theory and practice which Graham +Wallas undertook to supply in England and which Charles E. Merriam +has been foremost in encouraging in the United States. It is the +deficiency which led Catlin to propose to substitute what I would +call the “functional” for the “institutional” definition of the field +of political science.[14] This necessarily implies a new respect for +the possibilities of using the ingenious suggestions to be found in +the sociological systematists, a new curiosity about diverse ways of +approaching events, and a new sympathy for parallels to institutional +phenomena. + +Various obscurities can be removed if we generalize our terms +from the narrowly institutional to the broadly functional plane. +Terms like “statesman” and “despot” were minted of the metal of +political experience in communities where the high road to power was +governmental. It is true that in Athens it was difficult to draw very +sharp lines between governmental and other forms of communal activity, +on account of the intimate interlacing of all institutional processes. +Nevertheless, terms like “statesman” and “despot” came to refer to +forms of political activity in a narrowly institutional sense, and such +is their connotation today. + +But this connotation requires generalization and revision. The road to +power in our civilization is by no means an exclusively governmental +highway, for technical implements have scattered authority and created +an industrial feudality. The directors of large corporations have to +make decisions which are far more important for the daily happiness of +mankind than most of the decisions of governments. Since government is +so largely the agent of corporations, the government is hardly master +in its own house. + +The concept of the statesman has long carried the implication that +anyone who exercises social power outside the government is in hot +pursuit of an exclusively private advantage. Is this any longer +tenable? Is there not such a thing as the “institutionalization of +business” which arises when a given enterprise plans to operate +indefinitely and is thus forced to calculate its interests over long +periods of time? One of the major elements in this calculation is the +necessity of taking precautions against a withdrawal of favor on the +part of the community at large. This is the core of the political way +of thinking, and assimilates the policy of aggregations of private +power to that of the state which is guided by statesmen. It is timely, +therefore, to disentangle the concept of statesmanship from its +historical association with a single institution. + +Some of the many senses in which the “politician” is used may be +disposed of by drawing a clean distinction between the “business +man” and the “politician.” The business man may be defined as one +who pursues a private advantage with little regard for conceptions +of public right. The politician, in the here-selected “best” sense +of the word, uses persuasion on behalf of his conception of public +right. The politician pursues a genuine integration of interests in +the community; the business man is satisfied with a compromise among +competing private interests. The importance to political theory of the +distinction between integration and compromise has quite properly been +stressed by Mary L. Follett.[15] An integration of interests is the +solution of a conflict in such a way that neither “party” recognizes +that so much has been won and so much has been lost in the outcome. +It represents a reinterpretation of the situation in a sense which +renders the old line of battle, the older definition of interest, +irrelevant. It is illustrated when a wage controversy is disposed of by +the decision to try to divide the advantages of economies in production +which may be brought about through new co-operative procedures. The +essence of the contrast between integration and compromise is that +between a synthesis and a trade. The politician is a discoverer of +inclusive advantages, and the business man is a higgler for special +advantages. Whether, as Adam Smith said, an invisible hand shapes a +social synthesis from the general pursuit of private profit, we do +not have to decide upon here. The contrast is between the conscious +objectives of the individuals concerned. It should be observed that +politicians are not limited to government and that business men are not +limited to private ventures. The “boss” is one form of the business +man in government; the director of a large private concern may be a +politician in the sense used here.[16] + +Having drawn a necessary distinction between the institutional and the +functional meaning of the “political,” we are in a position to discuss +the “type” concept. A “type” is a relation, and we may classify types +according to the relations chosen. Political types may be set up on a +three-fold basis: by specifying a nuclear relation, a co-relation, and +a developmental relation. + +What is meant by the choice of a nuclear relation may be illustrated +by the concept of the _Machtmensch_ as elaborated by Eduard Spranger +in his _Lebensformen_. Spranger, the distinguished educational +psychologist of the University of Berlin, has developed a morphology +of personality on an original basis. Dilthey, it will be recalled, +ushered in the modern era of typological inquiry in his famous address +before the Berlin Academy of Science.[17] Dilthey selected forms of +distinguished cultural activity and posited trait-constellations +to fit. By the process of abstracting from many concrete fields of +achievement, he finally built up his description of the sensual, +heroic, and contemplative types. Most eminent political figures +naturally fall in the second category. Spranger’s approach has much in +common with that of Dilthey. He proceeds on the hypothesis that all +possible valuational dispositions are shared by all men. By inspecting +human culture, Spranger comes to the conclusion that six distinctive +cultural fields have materialized six valuational dispositions in +man. Thus the cultural activities having to do with wealth production +correspond to the economic value tendency. Science corresponds to the +theoretical, art to the aesthetic, religion to the religious, the state +to the power tendency, and society to the love tendency. Spranger goes +on to deduce the attributes of each personality in which one value +tendency predominates, and traces out the implications for each field +of activity of the predominance of this tendency. Thus the political +man is the one whose principal value is the pursuit of power. The +essence of power is understood to be the capacity, and usually the +will, to impose one’s own values as permanent or transitory motives +upon others. The political man in science tends to substitute rhetoric +for truth and to use ideas as forces (in the sense of Fouillée). In +economics the political man tends to reach his ends by diplomacy and +negotiation, by intimidation or violence, or by other political means. +In art the political motive leads to efforts to impress by flamboyant +decorative display. In social life the political motive, with its +forcible urge toward self-aggrandizement, must usually disguise itself +in fostering the interests of some collectivity. The god of the +political man in religion is a god of might who requires mighty men to +serve him. + +In developing his image of the _homo politicus_, Spranger is +fully aware that his “pure” type seldom exists. The bold, frank +aggrandizement of self is rarely tolerated in society, for “the +greatest power manifests itself as collective power,” and the man +who cherishes power must achieve some measure of socialization or +he is outlawed. Although in principle no warm-hearted lover of his +fellow-men, he must keep his contempt to himself or feign expansive +sentiments of group loyalty. Indeed, self-deception is perhaps the +rule, for the political personality with a strong artistic component +possesses a florid imagination which dramatizes his personal history +and subordinates all reality to ambitious plans. It seems to me that +Spranger does not sufficiently stress this aspect of the political man, +this large capacity for playing the impostor upon himself and others. + +The gist of Spranger’s generalization of the political man is +schematically expressible in terms of desire-method-success. The +political man desires to control the motives of others; his method may +vary from violence to wheedling; his success in securing recognition in +some community must be tangible. These are the nuclear relations which +are essential to the type definition. + +Naturally there are a number of necessary annotations to be made on +this formula. Sometimes the man with a thirst for power is unable to +indulge and quench his thirst, for his physical and social equipment +may be too meager. And how are we to appraise results? _Wer regiert +denn?_ Power over others is partially exercised by every living being; +but in any hierarchy of the powerful, some are on the lowest tier, if +current social criteria be applied. The bedridden, complaining wreck +may be of no significance except as a burden upon the care of a single +nurse. Accepting the current values of society, such an individual +would be on the very bottom of the heap. And yet, as Alfred Adler +has so often insisted as to make the point peculiarly his own, the +hysteric may use his symptoms to win a high degree of submission from +his immediate environment, and this may be all that he cares about. And +some of those who give up the visible struggle for social influence may +retire to distil their bile into poisoned darts against the pursuit +of external pomp, and secure reputation and eminence by embodying the +results in sparkling rhetoric. + +The man who runs his village may become more acutely aware that he does +not run the county; and when he runs the county, that he does not run +the province; and so on up the ladder. His appurtenances of power may +be deferred to by those about him, yet his own soul may smart with +the shackles of a larger slavery. Thus, Spranger is right in saying +that, when one succeeds in penetrating the psychology of the search +for power, it becomes comprehensible that he whose nature is bound +up in the pursuit of authority is most keenly sensible to the limits +of his own freedom, and consequently suffers so keenly from nothing +else in life than his own subordination. Sensing this, the Stoics long +ago contended that the essence of liberty is the self-sufficiency +which makes no demands on others. Ascendancy involves dependence, +a reciprocal relationship which has been exhaustively described +by Simmel.[18] But there are some who combine easy success with +indifference. These are no doubt recruited from among those who have +natural suggestive power to certain groups--they possess the _charisma_ +of Max Weber.[19] + +Allowing for these annotations, the nucleus of Spranger’s thinking may +be repeated. The _homo politicus_ is characterized by the following +relationship between desire, method, and success: desire to control +the motives of others; methods varying from violence to wheedling; and +success in securing communal recognition. + +Spranger’s subtle comments in elaborating this simple, central +conception are among the most valuable in the literature of society. +Starting from bold simplifications, he succeeds in formulating pictures +which give richer meaning to the details of political life in all +the institutional processes of culture. Of course the literature of +political science is full of types which are described as Spranger +has described the political man. Michels and Merriam have listed the +qualities which they find in political leaders as a class. Conway has +propounded his familiar trichotomy: crowd-compellers, crowd-exponents, +and crowd-representatives. The possibility of defining types according +to the reactionary, conservative, liberal, or radical nature of the +opinions championed has often been discussed.[20] + +The scheme which will be employed in presenting case materials stresses +the capacity of political personalities to play rôles which are either +specialized or composite. Hobbes was a theorist and an agitating +pamphleteer; he is scarcely thinkable as an agitating orator and +organizer like Garrison. The “pure-type” agitator is represented by +the Old Testament prophets. Bodin combined a memorable contribution to +political theory with the arduous duties of a successful administrator. +Masaryk won his spurs in philosophy, sociology, cultural history, +agitation, and organization. Numberless are those who have shown +excellent organizing ability but who have been innocent of theoretical +interests or of agitating power. Some political assassins and tyrants +have enjoyed the use of violence as a _ding an sich_. The central +point in deciding where to place a political figure is to discover +the form of activity which means the most to him, and to modify the +classification according to his success in combining this with other +rôles. Marx wanted to impress himself upon mankind, certainly; and he +craved the skill of a Lassalle, who could step on the platform and +dominate the turbulent emotions of the crowd. But more: Marx wanted +unreserved admiration for the products of his mind. He toiled through +years of isolation and poverty to make his assertions impregnable. It +was more important to attain theoretical completeness than to modify +his technique of social intercourse. Lassalle was the composite leader +who could woo an audience, organize activities all over Germany, write +excellent books, and win a place for himself in many circles of life. +Marx was the limited specialist who had to exact submission to the +assertions of his mind, come what may. + +Table I brings out the distinction between specialized and composite +types. + + TABLE I + Political Rôles + + Administrator Agitator Theorist + _Specialized types_: + Hoover * + Old Testament prophets * + Marx * + + _Composite types_: + Cobden * * + Bodin * * + Lenin * * * + +Other combinations may be indicated. By adding a fourth column for +those who resort to violence, the schematic possibilities are enlarged. +Most theorists have been agitators in some measure, and it is often +a matter of taste whether emphasis is to be placed on one or the +other feature of their activity. Characteristically, the theorists +have sought to appeal to the sentiments of their contemporaries by +pamphleteering or by the direction of their speculative interests to +immediate ends. Hobbes and Rousseau were shut off from oratory and +organization, but no small part of their writing was intended to add +fuel to the flames around them. Such men as Tom Paine are able to +strike off excellent formulations of political theory in the heat of +the fray. + +So far we have been discussing types which are distinguished according +to some nuclear relation among a few variables. The characteristic +mode of elaborating such a type is to imagine a host of situations in +which the type may be found, and to describe the resulting picture. +This is the elaboration of the preliminary sketch on the basis of +sophisticated experience with social life. For these impressionist +methods it is possible to substitute a more formal procedure. Having +chosen a central primary relation, is it possible to find, by +reference to specific instances, the relative frequency with which +other traits are associated with the nuclear ones. The starting-point +may be either institutional or functional, of course: those who are +“judges,” “legislators,” or “bosses” may be investigated, or those who +are “statesmen,” “conciliators,” or “administrators.” We have already +had occasion to stress the point that institutional definitions and +functional definitions do not precisely coincide, although either is a +valid point of departure for research. + +The result of the formal procedure outlined is to define +“co-relational” (correlational) types. A recent monograph by Fritz +Giese may be used to illustrate the possibilities.[21] This is a +statistical treatment of the data available in the German _Who’s Who_ +of 1914. After Giese had eliminated those who were included on account +of their hereditary position only, he had over ten thousand names +left. He then distinguished thirty-three varieties of activity, which +were grouped into the five major categories of art, social science, +physical science, technology, and practical life. He also classified +his subjects into those who were honored because of high-grade but +essentially routine professional accomplishment, those who enriched +their field of activity by some creative contribution, and those whose +creativeness was unrestricted to their occupational field. The three +types were the skilful, the productive, and the freely creative. +Since the individual is not confined to one field of activity, the +following scheme of connections was built up to show the relation +between the person and the form of activity: (_a_) income source (the +person regards a particular field as a “bread and butter” occupation); +(_b_) successive activity field (the individual has deserted one field +for another); (_c_) field of simultaneous double-production; (_d_) +recreational activity. The relation of a person to a field of activity +may show a splitting of his personality or a compensatory function. +When a politician consciously decides to play golf or to collect +pictures to relieve his mind from exclusive political preoccupations, +he is realizing a compensatory value in this chosen field. When he +finds himself impelled to try to live a double life of scientific +investigation and political propaganda, he is exhibiting major, and +contrasting, tendencies in his personality (splitting). Sometimes the +tie between fields of activity which the same individual exploits is +factual similarity, as when a politician becomes a literary man to the +extent of writing the political history of a period. Sometimes the +connection is a functional relationship, in that the same biopsychic +dispositions are to be assumed to operate. Thus, business promotion and +politics are intimately allied; sculpture and politics are not. + +Giese’s detailed analysis showed that those engaged in politics reveal +the most heterogeneous affiliations and backgrounds. He raised the +question whether it was proper to think of a distinctive functional +gift which would characterize all those in political positions. When +compared with art, especially architecture, and engineering, the +heterogeneity of the political population is very evident. Indeed, +the manifold connections of politically active persons with other +fields suggest that political life depends upon very widely dispersed +capacities of human nature, as does teaching, history writing, and +journalism. But there is one important exception which is clearly +brought out by the figures. This was a group of politicians who +rose from humble circumstances and devoted themselves assiduously +to organization and agitation. They offer a sharp contrast to those +for whom political life was a sport, hobby, or honorary distinction. +For the organizing and agitating group we may postulate a functional +disposition of some kind. + +The results show how the institutional approach to a problem may +eventuate in the isolation of one group which very probably coincides +closely with a functional group in other institutional activities. +Some of the agitating and organizing people weren’t yet in politics at +the time the 1914 census was made, and some of them were so busy with +private organizations that they never made the formal transition to +politics in the institutional sense. + +Another conclusion which bears on the same point is Giese’s discovery +that those who were freely creative in politics had much more in common +with those who were freely creative in other fields than they had +with those who were merely productive in their own. Giese’s method of +classifying his freely creative group is too ambiguous to justify one +in considering his conclusion of more than suggestive value, but it is +possible that he has isolated a functionally homogeneous group which +cuts across all institutional lines. + +Some of the studies of political personalities have carried the +quantitative method far enough to substitute scales for rank orders +at various points. Various reaction tests have been used in the hope +of discovering constant differences among those who play different +political rôles. Henry T. Moore undertook to decide whether there is +such a thing as a temperamental predisposition toward conservatism or +radicalism. He defined radicalism as “an attitude favorable to sweeping +changes in social institutions, especially changes along lines opposed +to class interest,” and classified the opinion expressions of students +according to the degree of radicalism or conservatism indicated. He +then applied a series of reaction tests to the students and reached the +following conclusion: + + Our evidence so far as it goes points to some innate basis of + difference. This basis does not seem to be the level of general + intelligence or of emotional stability, nor in any general + superiority or inferiority in learning or attention, but in such + specific factors as greater speed of reaction, ease of breaking + habits, readiness to make snap judgments, and independence in the + face of majority influence. The last of these differences is the + one most clearly indicated.... If one man is by nature more keyed + up for speed and flexibility, and the other is more designed for + regularity of function, we can hardly expect that government of the + hyperkinetic by the phlegmatic and for the phlegmatic can fail to + develop periods of stress and strain.[22] + +Floyd Allport classified students into typical and atypical members of +the community, discovering whether they took up prevalent or minority +positions on various political questions. He then applied a battery of +tests to the students and found that certain traits of the atypical +(whether the opinions were “radical” or “conservative”) proved to be +homogeneous. Thus, not only do the “extremes” meet, but also those +who hold minority positions along a hypothetical continuum of opinion +distribution.[23] + +W. H. Cowley, at the instigation of Charles E. Merriam and L. L. +Thurstone, undertook to compare leaders in chosen situations. He used +twenty-eight tests of such traits as aggressiveness, self-confidence, +intelligence, emotional stability, and speed of reaction. While his +tests were differentiating within the same group between leaders and +followers, he reports that they did not distinguish between leaders as +a class and followers as a class. He thus felt justified in denying +that leadership is a universal trait of particular persons, and +criticized efforts to itemize “traits of leadership.”[24] Further +applications of the blanket-test technique are under way.[25] + +Gilbert J. Rich opened out a new field of investigation when he +studied certain complex physiological and biochemical variables among +leaders and followers. He measured the hydrogen-ion concentration of +the saliva, the acidity of the urine, alkali reserve of the blood, +and creatinine excretion of the urine. The least excitable subjects +showed the most acid saliva and the most acid urine. The rating of the +subjects was open to criticism, and was obviously much less refined +than the biochemical techniques employed.[26] + +The types which we have just been considering show more than a +cross-sectional picture of the adult personality. They have made the +transition from itemizing the instantaneous pictures to the selection +of features of the immediate picture which show how the type has come +to be. They are thus more than co-relational types; they have made +some progress toward developmental types. When Giese found the group +of political personalities of humble origin and persistent organizing +and agitating activity, he postulated a common dynamic of development, +a homogeneous functional disposition toward this sort of thing. Moore +wanted to extricate the formative influence of temperamental reactive +sets, and the other investigators have likewise sought to ascertain +developmental factors in the production of the adult picture of traits +and interests. + +Almost every nuclear and co-relational type carries developmental +implications. The terms which are used to characterize motives +have dynamic, genetic, formative coronas of meaning which, vaguely +though they may be sketched, are emphatically present. When Michels +says that a “Catonian strength of conviction” is one mark of the +political leader, it is implied that if one pushed his inquiry into +the adolescence, childhood, and even infancy of the individual that +this ruling characteristic would be visible. Of course, Michels +does not himself develop these implications; it is doubtful if he +has tried to find the early analogues of the trait which he called +“Cantonian strength of conviction” on the adult level. But the dynamic +penumbra of the term can lead empirical investigators to scrutinize +the behavior of children from a new point of view. Many of the terms +which are used to describe adult traits are no doubt unpredictable +from the less differentiated traits of infancy, childhood, and youth. +But the growth of full-blown developmental types requires the sifting +and refinement of terms until they are adequate to the description +of sequences of growth. Developmental types will describe a set +of terminal, adult reactions, and relate them to those critical +experiences in the antecedent life of the individual which dispose +him to set up such a mode of dealing with the world. Developmental +types will not only include the subjective account of the history of +the personality but will embrace the objective factors which were +co-operating to produce the patterns described. + +The notion of a developmental type may be illustrated by examining +the place which is assigned to the political man in the chief modern +characterological systems. Hans Apfelbach has used five dimensions for +the description of characters. Each one is described as a gamut between +two polar opposites, and a sixth pair of polar opposites is introduced +into the system. The scheme is indicated in Table II. + +This gives a formal range of sixty-four types of character formation +without allowing for subtle variations in quantity. The first +combination which Apfelbach specifies is, symbolically, ABCDEF. This is +a very masculine, sadistic, hyperemotional, moral, intellectually keen, +and upright character. Among men this is the type of the organizers, +politicians, the great preachers, generals, dictators, and the like. +Among women, this is the type of the organizer of every description, +especially the political or patriotic enthusiast, like Joan of Arc. +It should be observed that the terms “masculine” and “feminine” are +not used in a mutually exclusive sense. Carrying on the tradition of +Weininger and Fliess, these terms are employed to designate traits +which may be present in different proportions in the same person.[27] + + TABLE II + + Dimension Polar Elements + + Sexuality Masculine A + Feminine a + Psychomotility Psychosadistic B + Psychomasochistic b + Emotionality Hyperemotional C + Hypo-emotional c + Morality Moral D + Immoral d + Intellectuality Superior E + (specialized) Inferior e + Accessory elements Altruistic F + Egotistic f + +The political man appears in Jung’s system at various intersections of +his underlying scheme. The essential cleavage in Jung’s classification +is between those whose psychic energy (libido) flows outward +toward objects (extraversion) and those whose libido flows inward +(introversion). The former enter into full affective relations with +the world around; the latter are mainly focused on their private +interpretations of experience. In addition to these fundamental dynamic +relationships, Jung sub-classifies with reference to our fundamental +psychological functions: thinking, feeling, sensation, intuition. These +functions may operate against one another consciously or unconsciously. +So, when thinking predominates in consciousness, feeling is repressed; +and the reverse. Intuition is understood to be a kind of instinctive +comprehension, a function peculiarly dependent upon the unconscious. +According to the predominance of one or another of these basic +functions, Jung constructs four special types of extraversion and +introversion. + +Certain conspicuous political types belong to Jung’s category of +extraverted thinkers. These individuals try to bring their whole +life-activity into relation with intellectual conclusions, which +in the last resort are always oriented by objective data, whether +objective facts or generally valid ideas. By his formula are good and +evil measured: all is wrong that contradicts it, and all is right +that corresponds to it; all is accidental that is neutral toward it. +Just as the extraverted thinking type subordinates himself to his +formula, he seeks to subordinate all others to it, as a manifestation +of a universal inspiration. His moral code forbids him to tolerate +exceptions, and he would bend all to suit the scheme. “One really +should” or “one must” figure largely in his program. If the formula is +wide enough, Jung remarks that the extraverted thinker may figure as a +reformer, a ventilator of public wrongs, and a propagandist. But the +more rigid his formula, the more likely he is to grow into a grumbler, +a crafty reasoner, and a self-righteous critic. + +Many politicians answer to the general description which Jung gives +of the extraverted, intuitive type. The intuitive is unattracted by +the established values; he is drawn to the possible rather than to +the actual. He seizes hold of new objects and ways of doing things +with eager intensity, only to abandon them cold-bloodedly, when +their implications become obvious. The irresistible magnet of the +rising sun fires his imagination and guides his activity. For the +risen sun and the setting sun there is no enthusiasm, no special +hostility, only indifference. Here is the facile promoter, who senses +the dawning future and speeds from project to project, bored with +routine and detail after projects have been accepted and the blueprints +finished.[28] + +The types of Apfelbach and Jung are based upon a small number of +reactive mechanisms which are supposed to influence in different degree +the growth of the personality. These “mechanism” types may contain +many useful leads, but the methodological problem in isolating these +hypothetical mechanisms is unsettled. A “stable” reaction in adulthood +may be far from stable when viewed at successive growth periods. These +“mechanism” types seem to encourage endless classificatory ventures +at the expense of detailed reporting of life-histories. For reasons +which have been set forth, subjective histories are of the greatest +importance to social science; and any excessive interest in “mechanism” +which minimizes the importance of elaborate individual records is to be +deplored. Jung and Apfelbach say very little about the principal epochs +of individual development, and distract attention from the career as a +whole, as this career is structuralized in successive phases. + +Before outlining our developmental conception of the _homo politicus_, +we return to the work of Freud, for his method has enabled him to +keep close to the subjective sequence and to use classificatory terms +in relation to the successive phases of impulse organization in the +developing personality. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THEORIES OF PERSONALITY DEVELOPMENT + + +It will be remembered that Freud’s search for signs of the traumatic +situation led him to uncover the contemporaneous functioning of all +sorts of unconscious motivations in both the diseased and the healthy +personality. The quest led him farther. Freud felt impelled to set +up a schematic representation of the typical genetic development of +the human personality. This grew out of the comparative study of very +thoroughly analyzed cases and was rooted in empirical observation. +Freud has always kept close to his data; and no matter how far his +imagination soared, actual clinical experience was the starting-place +and the landing-field for the flight. + +The energy of a developed personality can be treated as dispersed in +three directions: in the affirmative expression of socialized impulses, +in unsocialized impulses, and in the maintenance of resistance charges +against unsocialized impulses. The original forms of energy expression +which are available to the infant are in many ways incompatible with +the demands of human intercourse. The infant must surrender many +primitive forms of gratification, if he is to be loved, and to avoid +discomfort and pain. He must build up a self which represents the +demands of society. The surrounding adults coerce and wheedle him +into taking their commands for his own laws. The conscience is the +introjected environment which imposes limitations upon the antisocial +impulses. As the infant and child grows, he avoids conflicts with the +environment by removing the locus of the conflict within himself, and +plays nurse, mother, and father to himself. He learns to control his +own excretions and to chasten his own murderous rages. He achieves +individuality of emphasis by accepting the socialization of his major +impulses. + +But this incorporation of the requirements of the social order into +the personality does not proceed smoothly, nor does it abolish the +primitive psychological structures which have been developed and +apparently discarded at each step of the way toward adulthood. Much +of the energy of the personality is spent in blocking the entry of +the unadjusted impulses of the self into consciousness and into +overt expression. Careful scrutiny of individual behavior over a +twenty-four-hour period strikingly shows the extent to which the +personality is controlled by very elementary psychological structures. +Moments of fatigue, moments of deprivation, moments of irresponsible +reverie, all betray the presence of tendencies which are unassimilated +to the world of adult reality. + +Freud began to build up his conception of personality development +by the gradual universalization of phenomena which he encountered +in actual clinical work, and which he first described in relatively +modest and restricted terms. He began his original psychological +contributions by stressing the rôle of sexuality in the etiology of +certain neuroses. He found that all sorts of pathological conditions +and developmental abnormalities were apparently due to some shortcoming +in sexual integration. This emphasis upon sexual adjustment as a +necessary prerequisite of healthy adulthood met with so much opposition +that Freud’s energies were taken up with defending and elaborating his +position. Now the sexual function is essentially a species function +and stresses the biological uniformities of man at the expense of +individuality. A topic like “personality development” requires a +comprehensive theory of individuality, and this Freud did not develop +until the split with Adler, who insisted upon the rôle of a drive +toward individualization and who denied that the much neglected “ego +instincts” of Freud were enough to support a comprehensive theory. + +The story of Freud’s neurosis-sexuality-personality theories begins +with his earliest independent psychological contributions. Many +clinicians before Freud had been abundantly impressed by the frequency +with which sexual troubles seemed to beget “nervous” troubles. In +his hypnotic work, Freud was especially struck by the frequency with +which specifically sexual episodes were involved in the pathogenic +experiences. Freud now proceeded to generalize about the sexual element +in neurosis, and announced that neurosis was a function of deviated +sexual life. + +Freud armed in defense of his generalization with two new weapons. The +first was his experience in letting his patients talk it out and in +treating most of their productions as symbolic of something else. He +acquired facility in interpreting what other people took literally as +being a disguised representation of something else. So, when Freud was +confronted with cases which were not manifestly sexual, he felt able to +treat the non-sexual elements as symbolic representations of sexuality +and to justify himself by claiming that his more intensive research +procedure supplied him with the sustaining facts. Needless to say, +those who had not themselves experienced the shift in standpoint which +Freud had achieved were alienated by his seeming arbitrariness. + +Freud’s second reliance was on an inclusive theory of sexuality. +Undaunted by the ridicule heaped upon his sexual theory of the +neurosis, he carried the war into enemy territory by extending the +whole concept of sexuality backward from puberty through the life of +the growing child to infancy. + +At first glance this might appear to be a cheap, dialectical trick to +confound his critics by telling them that “sex” meant all the things +they had called by other names. Freud’s _Three Contributions to Sexual +Theory_ was saved from being a rhetorical quibble by the virtuosity of +his imagination and by the apparent definiteness of the connections +which he traced between the various features of childhood development +and the patterns of healthy and perverse adult sexuality. Careful +analysis of biologically efficacious intercourse shows that it is a +complex integration of many acts. It involves a partner of the opposite +sex. Its essential feature is an increasing tension until the point of +explosive release, followed by perfect relaxation. The male must be +sadistic enough to run the risk of hurting the female by injecting the +penis in the vagina. The participants must be willing to indulge in +all sorts of preliminary play for the sake of heightening the critical +tension, involving tongue, lips, nipples, and all the erogenous zones +of the body. + +Comparing the details of this completed pattern of the unambiguously +sexual act with the earlier activities of the infant and child, Freud +drew a host of analogies. Children indulge in play in sexual postures, +exhibit their sexual parts to one another, and take pleasure in sexual +peeping; but Freud carried his analysis of the sexuality of children +much farther. Child specialists had often remarked that the nursing +male child frequently exhibits the phenomenon of an erect penis and a +desire to suckle for some time after hunger contractions cease. The +general pattern of the sequence hunger-nursing-peaceful relaxation +follows the characteristic curve of the sexual act. Freud suggested +that inspection of the nursing pattern reveals that the pleasure +derived by the child goes far beyond immediate biological necessities. +This excess gratification Freud treats as a primitive outcropping of +the sexual instinct, which need not be supposed to appear suddenly +with the maturation of the glandular apparatus, but may be thought of +as growing like the usual biological process by integrating partial +components into one complex synthesis. + +Sexual differentiation arises gradually, for at first distinctions of +sex are not recognized by the child. The human animal is bisexual, +a concept which Freud took over with some reservations from Wilhelm +Fliess. Distinctions are achieved within the world of family +experience. The child is attracted sexually toward the parent of +the opposite sex but is too weak to compete for the loved object. +Thus the father, who is too mighty to be killed and put out of the +way, is copied by the son, who seeks to absorb his power into his +own personality. The repression of the father-hostility, mother-love +sentiments produces the Oedipus complex. The child achieves a +socialized self by playing the rôle of the father in relation to his +own impulses. The “latency period” arises from four to six, according +to Freud, when the early sexual struggle against the father is given +up. The fear of the father (the “castration complex”) leads to the +passing of the Oedipus phase of growth. + +Now Freud specified a variety of difficulties which arise whenever +there is failure to achieve successful integration of the partial +components of the sexual instinct. He connected homosexuality, +psychological frigidity and impotence, exhibitionism, sadism, +masochism, voyeurism, and a variety of other abnormalities with +definite failures in integration. Sometimes the individual becomes +obsessed by ideas which have a disguised sexual meaning, and sometimes +he indulges in physical symptoms which possess a similar unconscious +significance. The first is an obsessional neurosis, and the second is +hysteria. + +The stress which Freud laid upon the sexuality of the child, and upon +socialization by intimidation, broke with revolutionary violence in a +culture which swaddled its infants in sentimentality. The child of the +poets was like this: + + Not in entire forgetfulness, + And not in utter nakedness, + But trailing clouds of glory we do come + From God, who is our home: + Heaven lies about us in our infancy! + + --William Wordsworth + +The child of the Freudians was like this: + + The child, at one time or another in its life, is, in a sense, + auto-erotic, narcissistic, exhibitionistic, inclined to play the + rôle of “Jack the Peeper,” incestuous, patricidal, or matricidal, + homosexual, fetichistic, masochistic and sadistic [G. V. Hamilton, + _An Introduction to Objective Psychopathology_, p. 301]. + +As early as 1898 Freud had begun to elaborate the idea that sexuality +begins at birth. But as late as 1900, when the _Interpretation of +Dreams_ appeared, he wrote in a footnote that “childhood knows +nothing, as yet, of sexual desire.” With the elaboration of his sexual +theory, Freud became less preoccupied in defending himself against his +psychiatric colleagues than in perfecting defenses against his friends. +Freud began to build up a circle in 1903. Of the original group, +Alfred Adler and Wilhelm Stekel were the two who were destined to +achieve the most subsequent attention. By 1906 Ferenczi of Budapest and +the Zürich contingent--the eminent Bleuler and his assistants--became +cordial and interested. In 1908 a conference was held at Salzburg, and +in 1909 G. Stanley Hall invited Freud to lecture at Clark University. +In 1910 an international society was organized at Nuremberg, and the +institutionalization of the psychoanalytic trend was well launched. + +The first cleavage came about when Freud and Adler finally broke in +1911. In and out of season Adler stressed the “masculine protest,” the +drive of the human being to master every situation in which he finds +himself. The individual specializes in overcoming his short stature, +his enuresis, his ugliness, and his other defects; his principal drive +is to differentiate himself rather than to perform his species function. + +Adler represented several other currents of dissent from Freud. Freud +had felt compelled to stress the antisocial drives of human nature, +and Adler held a less Hobbesian view. The “social-feeling” component +of human nature was accorded a place in the Adlerian system; and when +the “socially useful” norms of individual adjustment were violated by +the individual, “inferiority feelings” ensued. Therapy consisted in +bringing this interpretation home to the maladapted person, leading him +to relinquish his socially useless means of mastery and to allow his +“social feelings” to express themselves more freely. Adler’s therapy +showed that he represented a pedagogical-ethical reaction against +Freud’s denial of the training function of the scientific analyst. +Freud said repeatedly that the business of the analyst is to expose +the patient to himself, and to leave it to the patient to work out +his particular modes of adaptation to reality. Adler wants to give the +patient a general scheme of thinking and to let him have some practice +in indulging the “social feelings” of his nature. + +Adler likewise represented a protest against the complexities of +Freud’s style of thought. The distinction can be drawn best, perhaps, +by saying that Freud proceeded from symptoms to meanings, and from +meanings to other meanings, and from other meanings to conditions. +The analysis consists in uncovering lifelong chains of meaning +attached to particular objects. Janet never achieved this process, +and Adler short-circuited it. Adler begins with the symptom and +proceeds as directly as possible to the condition. His books abound in +succinct characterizations of cases, and “symbolic” material is at a +minimum. Employing his orienting principle, he directs attention to a +sympathetic reconstruction of the social relationships of the patient +and selects those problems which the individual has tried to master +by antisocial or personally crippling devices. The “common-sense” +simplicity of Adler’s observations commends his doctrines in circles +which are repelled by the alien terminology and the elaborate +interpretative machinery of Freud. + +Under the perpetual hammering of Adler, Freud undertook to expand upon +his sketchy theory of the ego. At first Freud was inclined to say +that Adler had nothing to add because he had himself spoken of the +ego instincts as well as the sexual instincts. Such a solution was +hardly satisfying, and the self did not find a suitable resting-place +in Freud’s theoretical system until the rôle of narcissism (love of +the self) was taken up and set forth at length. This “saved” the +sexual theory, and it made the analysis of ego processes a problem of +major interest to psychoanalysis. Stress was laid upon the fact that +when the individual’s libido flows outward toward objects, and when +obstacles or deprivations are imposed upon this outward reaching, the +libido turns back upon the self. This excessive libidinization of the +self rendered subsequent adjustment to reality very difficult, and +many personality deformations and formations are traceable to this +developmental warp. + +The break between Freud and Jung in 1913 had less immediate importance +for personality theory than the previous schism. Like Adler, Jung +undertook to subordinate the rôle of sexuality; but Jung accomplished +his purpose, less by postulating concurrent ego-instincts than by +invoking an inclusive energy concept which would embrace sexuality, +ego-drives, and many other accessory manifestations. Jung, paralleling +Adler again, came to the rescue of human nature, postulating a moral +trend in the unconscious. And Jung, like Adler, frankly advises and +trains his patients. Jung’s two distinctive lines of innovation were +concerned with dream interpretations and ethnological applications. +Jung expanded dream interpretations for the sake of laying bare the +“racial unconscious.” Using saga material and dream material, Jung +undertook to deflate the claims of sexuality and to demonstrate the +limited applicability of the Oedipus idea. + +Freud was assailed at a vital spot and rallied to defend himself in +_Totem and Taboo_. He scored a point over Jung, who had relied on saga +material, by drawing heavily on the ethnological summaries of Frazer in +the _Golden Bough_ to justify the universality of the Oedipus complex. +This was Freud’s first contribution to systematic social theory, and +will come up for consideration in that connection. From the standpoint +of personality theory, perhaps the most valuable passages are those +which describe the infant’s overvaluation of thought--the “omnipotence +of thought,” as it was phrased by a patient. + +Some years later Jung, now on his own for some time, devised his +classification of personality types and vastly increased popular and +technical interest in the subject. This in turn has stimulated the +group around Freud to develop a formal psychoanalytic characterology. +In this task they were assisted by some early communications of Freud, +wherein he took note of some of the character types met with in his +practice. This literature will be referred to in connection with the +case histories which are to be discussed immediately. + +The other schisms between Freud and his pupils (involving Stekel and +Rank) have been less significant for personality theory thus far, +although Rank’s sociological interests may germinate now that he is +away from the immediate presence of the master. + +Freud, who had obstinately clung to the phraseology of sex, rejecting +every proposal for an overmastering set of terms which would carry less +restricted connotations, executed a brilliant maneuver in 1926 and +proposed to regard human activity as manifestations of two principles, +the life and the death instincts. Life consists in accumulation and the +release of tension; and, generalizing this phenomenon, we have the life +and death drives.[29] + +Suppose we put aside further exposition of the analytical personality +theories, and in the light of these conceptions set up a general +formula which describes the developmental history of the political man. +The most general formula would employ three terms. The first component, +_p_, stands for the private motives of the individual as they are +nurtured and organized in relation to the family constellation and the +early self. We shall have occasion to see that primitive psychological +structures continue to function within the personality long after the +epochs of infancy and childhood have been chronologically left behind. +The prominence of hate in politics suggests that we may find that the +most important private motive is a repressed and powerful hatred of +authority, a hatred which has come to partial expression and repression +in relation to the father, at least in patrilineal society, where the +male combines the function of biological progenitor and sociological +father. + +The second term, _d_, in such a formula describes the displacement of +private motives from family objects to public objects. The repressed +father-hatred may be turned against kings or capitalists, which +are social objects playing a rôle before and within the community. +Harmonious relations with the father of the family may actually depend +upon the successful deflection of hatred from private to public objects. + +The third symbol, _r_, signifies the rationalization of the +displacement in terms of public interests. The merciless exploitation +of the toolless proletariat by the capitalists may be the rational +justification of the attitude taken up by the individual toward +capitalism. + +The most general formula which expresses the developmental facts about +the fully developed political man reads thus: + + _p_ } _d_ } _r_ = _P_, + +where _p_ equals private motives; _d_ equals displacement +onto a public object; _r_ equals rationalization in terms of public +interest; _P_ equals the political man; and } equals transformed into. + +The _p_ is shared by the political man with every human being. +Differentiation rises first in the displacement of affects on to public +objects, and in the molding of the life in such a way as to give an +opportunity for the expression of these affects. The non-political +man may feel himself aggrieved against a brother and against every +fellow-worker with whom he comes in contact. His mind may be taken +up with personal fantasies of love or hate for specific people, and +his ideological world (his attitudes toward the state, the church, +the destiny of man) may be very poorly elaborated. He is a fly in the +meshes of his immediate environment, and his struggles are fought in +terms of the world of face-to-face reality. When such a man displaces +his affects upon a person who happens to be a public object, this does +not make him a political man. Impulsively killing a king who happens +to insult one’s sister does not make a politician of the regicide; +there must be a secondary elaboration of the displacement in terms of +general interest. It is the rationalization which finally transmutes +the operation from the plane of private to the plane of public acts. +Indeed, the private motives may be entirely lost from the consciousness +of the political man, and he may succeed in achieving a high degree of +objective validation for his point of view. In the “ideal” case this +has gone so far that the private motives which led to the original +commitment are of feeble current importance. + +Upon what does the displacement and the rationalization depend? No +doubt the general answer is that the selection of certain public +objects depends upon the “historical” accident of the patterns offered +by the personal environment of the individual at critical phases +of growth. It is safe to predict that more politicians rise from +families with political traditions than without them. But this very +broad conclusion requires no technique of intensive investigation of +individual instances to support it. If the psychopathological approach +to the individual is worth the trouble, it must disclose a variety of +relatively novel circumstances which dispose individuals to adopt, +reject, or modify the patterns of act and phrase which are offered in +the environment. Provisionally, we may assume that the puberty phase of +biological growth, which coincides with increasing social demands, may +be the period in which the attitudes toward the invisible environment +most rapidly crystallize. + +The details may be more hopefully dealt with if somewhat homogeneous +groups of politicians are investigated for the purpose of bringing out +significant differences in their developmental history. The agitators +are the first to whom special attention will be paid. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +POLITICAL AGITATORS + + +The essential mark of the agitator is the high value which he places +on the emotional response of the public. Whether he attacks or defends +social institutions is a secondary matter. The agitator has come by +his name honestly, for he is enough agitated about public policy +to communicate his excitement to those about him. He idealizes the +magnitude of the desirable social changes which are capable of being +produced by a specific line of social action. From the standpoint +of the administrative mind, we may say that an agitator is one who +exaggerates the difference between one rather desirable social policy +and another, much as the lover, according to Shaw, is one who grossly +exaggerates the difference between one woman and another. Whether +agitators behave like physicians or surgeons, as Munro would have it, +they are united in expecting much good to come from single acts of +innovation. The agitator easily infers that he who disagrees with him +is in communion with the devil, and that opponents show bad faith or +timidity. Agitators are notoriously contentious and undisciplined; +many reforming ships are manned by mutineers. The agitator is willing +to subordinate personal considerations to the superior claims of +principle. Children may suffer while father and mother battle for the +“cause.” But the righteous will not cleave to their families when +the field is ripe for the harvest. Ever on the alert for pernicious +intrusions of private interest into public affairs, the agitator sees +“unworthy” motives where others see the just claims of friendship. +Believing in direct, emotional responses from the public, the agitator +trusts in mass appeals and general principles. Many of his kind live +to shout and write. Their consciences trouble them unless they have +periodic orgies of moral fervor. Relying upon the magic of rhetoric, +they conjure away obstacles with the ritualistic repetition of +principles. They become frustrated and confused in the tangled mass +of technical detail upon which successful administration depends. +Agitators of the “pure” type, when landed in responsible posts, long +to desert the official swivel for the roving freedom of the platform +and the press. They glorify men of outspoken zeal, men who harry the +dragons and stir the public conscience by exhortation, reiteration, and +vituperation. + +The first life-history to be excerpted here is that of Mr. A. This is +no “institutional” case. Mr. A is aware of no mental pathology, and +has never consulted a neurologist, psychiatrist, or “nerve doctor.” +He is one of those who at first reluctantly, then whole-heartedly, +allowed himself to be studied with the same thoroughness, intimacy, +and detachment with which an obviously unstable person would be +scrutinized. Mr. A at once saw the advantage for the progress of +science of an accumulation of life-histories taken from men who regard +themselves as perfectly normal, since so much of our case material is +from the ill. + +A’s claim to a place among the agitators is not open to question. +He was compelled to resign his position when the United States went +into the World War on account of the tenacity with which he argued +the pacifist position. He had previously run for Congress on the +socialist ticket. Suspected of unorthodoxy in the theological school, +he steadily became more radical in his views, and was expelled from +one denomination. Previously he had been the secretary and principal +spokesman for a civic reform organization which had vigorously attacked +corruption in municipal affairs. He gradually became convinced that +“white collar reforms” were futile as long as the capitalistic system +prevailed in this country, and presently threw his energy into the +propaganda of labor organization and socialism. + +A leading characteristic as moralist, socialist, and pacifist has +been his truculence in public on behalf of his cause. Mr. A speaks +rapidly, with great fervor and earnestness, and his discourse +is studded with abusive epithets, sarcastic jibes, and cutting +insinuations. He confesses that he has taken an unmistakable pleasure +in “rubbing the fur the wrong way.” He enjoyed nothing better than +accepting invitations to lecture on social and economic subjects +before conservative audiences, and scandalizing them by declaring that +“organized business and organized crime are hard to distinguish from +one another,” “corruption and capitalism are one and inseparable,” and +“capitalism depends on markets, markets ultimately depend on force, and +force means war.” Thus war was the logical result of the capitalistic +system. + +Mr. A prides himself on his ability to cut holes in the logical fabric +spun by conspicuous men. He has engaged prominent preachers of the +gospel in correspondence, arguing that something in their writings +leads logically to the conclusion that any war, not excepting the last +one, is wrong, and that they should confess this openly, declaring +their sorrow for having been infected with un-Christian war-hysteria. + +He believes that right reason is the hope of mankind, and the name of +science is exalted in his mind. He was glad to lay his own life-story +on the altar of science, and in the name of science to endure the +embarrassment of recalling private facts which most of us try to forget. + +Mr. A’s later convictions have been held with enough intensity to +redefine many of his earlier opinions. Thus his pacifism brought him +into sharp opposition to the government, which resented his expression +of the truth as he understood it. Mr. A warmly champions the cause of +the individual against official interference in matters of taste and +conscience, and has modified his early enthusiasm for prohibition. + +Although censorious, accusatory, didactic, and defiant in public +address, he is cordial and winning in those face-to-face situations +where he is unaware of hostility. His eyes twinkle with good humor, +and he is gentle, responsive, and anxious to impress. His speech and +gestures are quick, and his manner is alert and often tense. + +A’s physique inclines toward the asthenic end of a hypothetical +pyknic-asthenic scale, such as Wertheimer and Hesketh have constructed +from Kretschmer’s observations on physical types.[30] He is noticeably +lean, but strikes the impressionistic observer as being toward neither +the tall nor the short end of the scale. The legs are somewhat longer +than the length of the body warrants, and the bony structures of +shoulder, hip, knee, and ankle are prominent. The thin face is rather +delicately molded, and is given added dignity and distinction by a neat +Van Dyke beard. The chest is flat, and the upper ribs fall inward. +His erect carriage seems to be a compensation against a predilection +toward a scholarly stoop. In middle and later middle life he has been +bothered by gastro-intestinal disorders. + +The second son of an impecunious village parson, he grew up in +straitened circumstances with a brother somewhat his senior. The mother +died when A’s youngest sister was born, and the children were cared +for by the father and a succession of elderly housekeepers who left +faint memories behind them. A and his brother went to an old-fashioned +ungraded school, entering at the same time in spite of their disparity +in years, so the younger one would not be left alone in the house. + +From a very early age A had a certain sense of hostility toward his +brother, and a feeling of his own superiority. For a reason that is +not clear, the school children teased his brother as the preacher’s +son, but left him alone. A was more agile than his brother, and climbed +trees and wriggled into tight places with ease. He prided himself in +doing things which his brother hesitated to try, and seems to have awed +him somewhat, for he remembers having heard his brother tell another +schoolboy to let A alone, “because when he gets mad, he can lick me.” + +The older boy was held responsible by the father for pranks which were +really joint enterprises. On one representative occasion, the father +left the house to make a call, ordering the boys to stay indoors. They +decided to go out, and their father, who discovered footprints in the +snow outside the door, gave the older boy a sound whipping, but let A +off scot-free. The younger son was unquestionably the favorite, and his +father would frequently chide the older boy for being a dullard, and +point with pride to the ease with which A could get his lessons. + +Indeed, A got on famously at school. One of his teachers, who chanced +to be a college man, told his father that A was brilliant and +promising. A also remembers a glow of elation when a relative wrote to +say that arrangements must be made for him to have a college education, +since he had shown that he could be a worthy successor to his uncle. +This uncle was a famous professor, who had written well-known +philosophical books, and remained a great hero in the eyes of the +family. + +The father slept in the same bed with his two sons until they were +well along in the teens. For as long as he can remember, A found the +touch of his father very pleasant, though the touch of his brother +was repugnant. A’s strong hostility against his brother, based on +their rivalry for the affections of the father, received a certain +justification in the critical episode which occurred as his older +brother, who matured early, approached puberty and began to have +emissions. The preacher was horrified, for he took this as a sign of +masturbation, and masturbation was sinful and dangerous.[31] When he +thought that A was sound asleep, he would gravely lecture the older +boy on the evil consequences of self-abuse. Sometimes the son would +wake up in the morning and discover that an emission had taken place +during the night. In a hushed and contrite whisper he would say to +his father, “I’ve gone and done it again!” at which the parent would +exclaim reproachfully, “Oh!” The boy was presently taken to a physician +who seems to have modified the excitement of the father and in some +measure to have reassured the son that his manhood was not irreparably +lost. Dark rumors about self-abuse were whispered through the village +from time to time. The neighborhood idiot was supposed to have brought +idiocy upon himself by self-abuse, and a bachelor in the village who +went insane was supposed to have suffered from the same vice. + +A listened to the rumors and to the nocturnal dialogues between his +father and elder brother, and gathered that ominous things were +connected with handling one’s self. He felt ashamed of his brother, who +brought so much suffering on his father, and silently determined never +to be a disappointment to his father. The tag end of a biblical passage +about bringing the gray hairs of his father to the grave in shame +ran through his mind, and he resolved never to repeat his brother’s +weaknesses. + +A’s older brother surprised everybody about this time by suddenly +changing from a phlegmatic lad into a fervent religious enthusiast. He +became converted under dramatic circumstances and joined the church, +thus propitiating the unknown powers which might visit horrible +punishment upon him for his private iniquities. In this he was running +true to the adolescent pattern. Adolescence is notoriously the time +when the temptations of the “flesh” multiply and when many youths, +oppressed by their “animal” impulses, seek to escape from the burden +of guilt by adopting the ceremonial patterns provided in the religious +observances of society. Adolescence is so often a period of high +ideals, which are typically reaction formations to “low desires,” that +adolescence is the happy hunting ground for proselyters of every breed. + +When A’s own emissions began, he was terribly upset by worry and +self-accusation. About fifteen he got an emission after a boy had +fooled with his genitalia, thinking he was asleep. He was taut with +sinful pleasure while the seduction was taking place, which added +to his guilty feelings. This was the time when he, too, exhibited a +fervent interest in the church. He quickly “overcame” masturbation, +but until late in life there was always a “fight” to overcome his +“wayward” impulses and his erotic imaginings. In his dreams he often +saw roosters and hens performing sexual acts in the barnyard of his old +home, and the reappearance of the old scenes is indicative of his early +sexual curiosity. Many more of his dreams used common sexual language. +Sometimes he was making his way across a valley of snakes, or he was +naked and walking toward a goal he could never quite make out. The +nude female figure was usually repressed, though it occasionally came +through. + +He was taken off the farm, on which his father eked out a supplement +to his meager salary, by an aunt, who insisted that the boy must have +better school facilities. This aunt had always taken a great interest +in this promising motherless nephew, and tried to fill his life with +the affection which would have been his had his mother lived. As a +small boy he had often come on short visits to his aunt. He had slept +in the same bed with her, and his lively curiosity about the female +figure was partly satisfied by glimpses of his aunt at the morning +bath. The aunt had a family with all of whose members he was on good +terms, and he was supremely happy to live in town with them. Out on +the farm he had been undernourished, but here he was filled out and +flourished. He took an active part in the church and in the social +activities of the neighborhood. + +The early intellectual promise which A had displayed was no mere flash +in the pan. He was one of the brilliant students in high school, and +passed his college-entrance examinations with such distinction that +he entered college with a mild intellectual halo. He resolved to make +good scholastically, and this he did, finishing the four years at a +first-rate institution at the top of his class. + +As time passed, he began to dissent from many of the dogmas of his +immediate social environment. During high-school days he had been +assigned to act the devil’s advocate and defend the free-trade side +in a tariff debate. The more he read and thought about it, the more +convinced he was that the free-trade position was sound. His relatives +without exception were high-tariff Republicans, and his arguments were +countered with sentimental rather than rational appeals. A’s conversion +to free trade led him to come out for the Democratic candidate for +the presidency. He remembers that the first time he announced this +heresy one of his aunts violently pushed her chair away from the +table, exclaiming in vexed, incredulous, and reproachful tones, “And +to think that my own sister’s son could say such a thing!” His college +course in biology converted him to evolution, and he argued this out +at great length with one of his uncles, who was a traditionally minded +preacher. A began to develop a feeling that intellectual brilliance +meant dissenting from the convictions of middle-class people like his +own relatives. + +So far his nonconformity was strictly confined to a few theories. He +was a member of the prayer-meeting group in college, and his fraternity +consisted mainly of embryo doctors of theology who scrupulously upheld +a rigorous code of personal abstinence from alcohol, tobacco, strong +language, and women. One of the young men who had the temerity to +enter the house with a lighted cigarette had it gently but firmly +removed from his lips. It was in college that A took part in his first +law-enforcement drive. The state prohibition law was poorly observed, +as A had good reason to know, since he had a collection route which +took him to “drug stores” and other equivocal establishments about +town. “Tea” was openly ordered at the bar and drunk on the premises. A +conceived the idea of leaving posters in these places to advertise the +law-enforcement meetings, thus creating something of a stir. + +Just before graduating from college A had a talk with a favorite +professor. The professor asked him what he proposed to do, and was +much interested when A said that he wanted to become a minister. The +professor said that during his own active years in the pulpit, before +he began to teach, he had learned at least one thing. Every man who was +intellectually honest and independent would sooner or later discover +that he questioned his own dogmas, and a period of bitter anguish would +ensue. If a man were intellectually honest, he would never flinch from +the truth, even for the sake of wife and family. But when the period +of doubt arose he advised A not to abandon his work too abruptly. He +had himself lived through six months of torture during which he had +been on the verge of dropping everything and going into business. But +finally he had arrived at a faith which he could defend, and stuck +to it. “I would rather be drawn and quartered than preach anything I +do not believe,” he declared emphatically. This conversation made a +deep impression upon A, leading him to anticipate doubts as a mark of +intellectual keenness and honesty. + +Thus far in his life he had never questioned the tenets of the strict +and simple theology of his immediate surroundings. Indeed, he had never +met anybody who questioned it. Only a single episode had slightly +jarred his complacency and left a tiny scar behind. At one time his +Sunday-school teacher had been a young professor of theology who was +much more liberal than his contemporaries. A boy in the class had dared +to ask something about the authority of the Bible, and the teacher, +without the least trace of embarrassment, had replied that authority +should not rest on blind faith but upon clear reason. “If the Bible +told you to kill your father and your mother, you would not do it. You +would not be bound to do it. The justification of the Bible is that its +teachings prove to be sound in the experience of all reasonable men.” + +In the divinity school the first course which A attended was on the +authority of the Bible. It was taught by a smug and full person of some +eminence. A was accustomed to distinguish himself by bold opinions, +and he undertook to challenge several of the propositions which were +supposed to be accepted and repeated by rote. His main point was +that authority rested on reason, not on faith. For his pains he got +the reputation of being a smart and troublesome upstart of doubtful +orthodoxy. His former Sunday-school teacher was a member of the +faculty, and A wrote a thesis on the authority of the Bible, in which +he elaborated the line of argument which had so much impressed him. +Only the constant intercession of this professor kept A from being +disciplined, or even expelled, at various times. + +The young man was disposed to take rigid theology none too seriously +on account of his increasing disrespect for his father. A and his +brother both felt duty bound to return home every summer to help +with the farm work. Their father was happy enough to have them +rejoin him, but matters never ran smoothly. The father was quick to +reassert his parental authority and to criticize freely. Most of the +unpleasantness was as usual at the expense of the older son, but some +of it was deflected against A. Both sons were uncomfortably aware of +the uncouthness of their father in comparison with city preachers. He +laughed too boisterously at his own stale witticisms. His ever present +dignity was a little ludicrous when he wore an alpaca coat into the +fields on the hottest midsummer day. + +The social life at the divinity school was wholly satisfying. The +students were warmly welcomed by the maidens of the local churches, +and several became engaged. A proposed to two girls during his career +there, and was turned down as often. He very quickly recovered his +good spirits after a night or so of melancholy. The first girl was a +relative whom he had known for many years, and the second was a close +friend of the family. The double defeat was something of a bruise to +his dignity and fed his determination to make a dent on the world. + +A’s first congregation was in one of the poorer quarters of a little +city. A had no doubt of his towering intellectual superiority over his +parishioners, and he found it exasperating when an uneducated housewife +presumed to gossip about the dubious orthodoxy of his beliefs. At the +end of three years he resigned in disgust at the peppering of criticism +directed against his ideas. Looking back at the incident, he feels that +he was too hasty. + +It was at this first charge that A began to make good copy for the +press, and to win a reputation as a sensationalist. He organized a Law +and Order League to harry criminals and the police. His pulpit rang +with stinging philippics against law-breakers and cowardly public +officials. All this gave him a zestful sense of making a stir in the +world of real affairs, so that he turned down an offer to join the +faculty of a famous university where his old Sunday-school teacher was +now located. + +A’s new pastorate was among working people in a large city. He at +once began to hound the officials for non-enforcement of the law. He +led raiding parties to visit the biggest gambling hells and put it +up to the police to shut them. Renewed criticisms began to appear of +his opinions, and the governing body of his denomination asked him to +recant or resign. He refused to budge, and he was soon expelled. He +was immediately called to lecture before an ethical society, where his +comments on current religious and social problems won a wide hearing. +Although attracting much attention, the society was exceedingly poor +and A spent a little legacy which he had received upon it, indifferent +to his own future. + +During these exciting troubles he became a socialist and joined the +socialist party. He had sympathized with the hard lot of the poor +since he could remember, and had cast his vote for Bryan as a symbol +of protest against the indifference of the privileged classes to the +privileges of anyone but themselves. His favorite college professor had +lost his job during the anarchist hysteria, when he came out against +the “judicial murder” of the Haymarket suspects. A was profoundly moved +by the spectacle of a man who backed his precepts of independence +with sacrifice for their sake. The argument which finally won him for +socialism was that political democracy is impossible until economic +democracy is realized, and that socialism is simply democracy in +industry. The principles of democratic brotherhood, once put to +practice in the world of work, would soon govern public relationships +of every kind. + +His new convictions opened to A a new field of agitation and publicity. +Ignoring or overcoming the coolness of certain “horny-handed” elements, +he rushed into the little band of socialists, and was presently the +congressional candidate. In this campaign he conducted a whirlwind tour +of the district and enjoyed himself immensely. + +A finally married a capable, motherly school-teacher whom he had known +for several years, but whom he had been prevented from marrying until +the death of her parents, who heartily disapproved of him. During his +bachelor years in the ministry he had certain knowledge that various +women were far from averse to becoming the preacher’s wife or mistress. +One married woman became the foremost worker in the church and +passionately assured him, “I am at your service day or night.” Another +woman, whom he barely recognized, came to the pastor’s study, declaring +that they must be married at once and “end this awful agony for both +of us.” He had not been aware that any agony had begun, and was in no +mood to begin it. He recognized that a wife would be a protection, but +most of the women who threw themselves in his way were so homely that +abstinence remained a pleasure as well as a principle. + +For many years there had lurked in his mind the fear that he might not +be potent, and he was humiliated to find that he was at first unable to +consummate the sexual act. Since he first attempted sexual intercourse +when nearly fifty, and had practically never masturbated, his troubles +were not atypical, and they fortunately proved to be transitory. He +regretted having failed to consult a physician before marriage, and was +not at ease until the first of his children came. + +Shortly after marrying, A came to the end of his financial resources, +and found it necessary to relinquish his lecturing for other work +until a suitable congregation should requisition his services. When +a call finally came, the war broke out in Europe, and A denounced it +with his customary ardor. He had read a book which popularized Prince +Kropotkin’s thesis that mutual aid and not struggle is the key to +the evolutionary process. War was irrational because it contravened +the principle of mutual aid, and it was un-Christian because it +set the hand of man against his brethren. As the hour of America’s +participation drew nearer, A saw that his outspoken position would +cause trouble. But he was accustomed to take a radical view and stick +to it, and the idea of compromising his independence for the sake +of family obligations was intolerable. His characteristic optimism +also misled him into overestimating the amount of pacifism which his +congregation would put up with, and soon he was forced to resign. + +A was left financially high and dry, and rather hoped that his wife +would be willing to starve with him, if need be, as a gesture of +sanity in a war-mad world. He was left financially dependent upon his +family, and upon such support as was forthcoming from wealthy radical +sympathizers. Since his own professional opportunities were curtailed, +and he never applied for other types of work, he was left dependent +upon others. He was somewhat embarrassed by this, but was never +depressed by it, or by the social ostracism which was entailed by his +unpopular stand. As he once expressed it, “melancholy is alien to a +fighting nature.” + +Looking back over A’s career, certain private motives appear which were +well organized in his early family life, and continued to operate with +considerable strength during his adult years. + +A had a strongly repressed hatred for his brother. He was consciously +aware of his own coldness toward the brother, but succeeded in barring +from consciousness any recognition of the emotional charge on this +attitude. The older boy was his rival for the affection of his father, +and A’s quickness and boldness were cultivated in an effort to outstrip +his brother. He showed many of the traits of the over active younger +child, as Adler has frequently described them. A felt rather ashamed +of his brother, who went through school and college with no special +distinction, and whose modest subsequent career was prosaically +respectable. A struggled to keep hostile thoughts about his brother out +of his mind, and sought to keep his attention away from the brother by +corresponding or visiting with him infrequently. + +Although A never frankly faced his own animosity toward this brother, +he was plagued by a sense of guilt for his unfraternal attitude. +This conflict was partially resolved by a reactive formation and +by displacement. The reactive formation was the reverse of the +anti-brother drive, but it was only supportable by displacing +his affection upon remote social objects. He generalized his own +prohibition against brother-hatred to all society, and identified +himself with the workers and with humanity at large, serving a +poverty-stricken congregation, spending his own money on the work of +the church, adopting the socialist dream of a brotherly state, and +demanding the abolition of fratricidal war. + +His love for the downtrodden and for humanity (this reactive +displacement of his own brother-hostility) was buttressed by the +usual rationalizations. The democratic ideal in politics, the ideal +of effective equality in political power, had his support, and he +adopted socialism when it was presented to him as industrial democracy +(brotherhood), the indispensable antecedent of genuine political +democracy (brotherhood). His early prohibition appeals were cast in the +form of an appeal to the brotherhood sentiments. He argued that every +man was his brother’s keeper, and therefore bound to refrain from an +example which might lead his weaker brother to dash his foot against a +stone. War meant the destruction of mutual (brotherly) aid among those +who were brethren in Christ. A’s brother-hatred, so manifest in his +younger days, and so potent in arousing guilt feelings, created this +disposition to choose generalized brother-substitutes to love, and to +elaborate brotherly ideologies to defend his position. Then by keeping +his distance from the physical brother, he could maintain a comfortable +adjustment. + +Another significant private motive, whose organization dates from early +family days, but whose influence was prominent in adult behavior, was +A’s struggle to maintain his sexual repressions. He erected his very +elaborate personal prohibitions into generalized prohibitions for all +society, and just as he laid down the law against brother-hatred, he +condemned deviations from the rigid puritanical code by which he lived. +Individuals who possess superego structures of such rigor often try to +protect themselves from the strain of sexual excitement by keeping away +from “temptation,” or by removing “temptation” from their environment. +Thus Mr. A avoided exposing himself to “lewd speech” and “immoral +suggestion.” Consciences of such severity can often be traced back +in deeply analyzed cases to unusually strong repressions at the time +when infantile masturbatory activities are being curbed. And it often +happens that the rôle of the intimidator is taken not only by the male +but by the female imago. In another highly moralistic person, who was +thoroughly psychoanalyzed, this came out distinctly. Thus for several +days the subject dreamed of standing before a butcher shop where he +had been sent by his mother, and where he saw his father sharpening +long knives. Or he saw his mother, dressed as Brünnhilde, carrying a +sword, while he cowered on a marble stairway. After many dreams of this +kind, the original situations finally burst into view. They involved +what were interpreted as direct threats to cut off a hand if the child +didn’t cease handling himself. + +That A was never able to abolish his sexuality is sufficiently evident +in his night dreams and daydreams. In spite of his efforts to “fight” +these manifestations of his “antisocial impulses,” they continued +to appear. Among the direct and important consequences which they +produced was a sense of sin, not only a sense of sexual sin, but a +growing conviction of hypocrisy. His “battle” against “evil” impulses +was only partially successful, and this produced a profound feeling of +insecurity. + +This self-punishing strain of insecurity might be alleviated, he found, +by publicly reaffirming the creed of repression, and by distracting +attention to other matters. A’s rapid movements, dogmatic assertions, +and diversified activities were means of escape from this gnawing +sense of incapacity to cope with his own desires and to master +himself. Uncertain of his power to control himself, he was very busy +about controlling others, and engaged in endless committee sessions, +personal conferences, and public meetings for the purpose. He always +managed to submerge himself in a buzzing life of ceaseless activity; +he could never stand privacy and solitude, since it drove him to a +sense of futility; and he couldn’t undertake prolonged and laborious +study, since his feeling of insecurity demanded daily evidence of his +importance in the world. + +A’s sexual drives continued to manifest themselves, and to challenge +his resistances. He was continually alarmed by the lurking fear that +he might be impotent. Although he proposed marriage to two girls when +he was a theology student, it is significant that he chose girls +from his immediate entourage, and effected an almost instantaneous +recovery from his disappointments. This warrants the inference that +he was considerably relieved to postpone the test of his potency, +and this inference is strengthened by the long years during which he +cheerfully acquiesced in the postponement of his marriage to the woman +who finally became his wife. He lived with people who valued sexual +potency, particularly in its conventional and biological demonstration +in marriage and children, and his unmarried state was the object of +good-natured comment. His pastoral duties required him to “make calls” +on the sisters of the church, and in spite of the cheer which he was +sometimes able to bring to the bedridden, there was the faint whisper +of a doubt that this was really a man’s job. And though preaching was a +socially respectable occupation, there was something of the ridiculous +in the fact that one who had experienced very little of life should +pass for a privileged censor of all mankind. + +He had long practice in the art of the impostor. From the plight of +his older brother, A learned that he would lose the affection of his +father if he was discovered to have indulged in certain practices +like masturbation. He resolved never to do anything to cause his +father to withdraw his affection, and when he was not entirely +successful in living up to this ideal, he pretended to virtues which +he did not possess. Never once was he found out, and his life was +the life of a “model” boy and man. This reputation he owed in part +to his abstinences, but likewise to his concealments. He learned to +cultivate the mask of rectitude, and succeeded in carrying off the +rôle so successfully that he was never found out during adolescence or +adulthood. + +Cut off by his impotence fears from loving others fully and completely, +A loved himself the more. He had unbounded confidence in the brilliance +of his mind, and this intellectual arrogance was nourished by the easy +ascendance which he won over the poorly educated people among whom he +worked. He was careful to keep in environments where his mind would +not be put to the test of keen competition. A didn’t compete with the +clergymen who had the largest posts in his denomination, he struck out +for himself in no hazardous business or professional enterprise, he +took up and finished no piece of investigation; instead he cut a big +figure among the workers, among whom he was the best-educated and the +best-known leader. His chances of being elected to Congress when he was +nominated were never good, and he had everything to gain and nothing to +lose by making a campaign. After the days of his scholarly ascendance +in high school and college, A fell out of competition in academic +pursuits. + +He valued his capacity to produce words. Ferenczi remarked in +conversation with me that the revolutionary agitators who had come +to his attention had been noticeably deficient in the intensity of +their emotional attachment to objects. They were notably indifferent +to the accumulation of property, and they were lacking in possessive +jealousy in their sexual life. This deficiency in warmth of affective +experience was sensed by the revolutionaries themselves, who felt +that they were in some way estranged from others. Their orgiastic +indulgence in language is to be interpreted as an effort to heighten +the affective intensity of their own lives. Either because the +emotional life is physiologically defective or because the libido is +too narcissistically fixated, this general description holds true of +some obsessive and many psychotic persons. It was no doubt a factor in +the history of A. + +Before following out the full implications of this struggle of A’s +to repress his sexuality, we will take up another topic of major +and not unrelated importance. I refer to A’s ambivalence toward his +father. A was not conscious of the full force of his hatred and +his love for his father, but his personality history is full of +evidence of the formative influence of these bipolar attitudes. In +the course of his competition with his older brother, A accepted +abstinence from genital indulgence as the price of holding paternal +preference. Now psychoanalytic findings are unanimous in showing that +genital indulgence is not given up without a continuous struggle, +and that recurring waves of sexuality break against the barrier of +the introjected prohibition, and reanimate hostile impulses against +the sanctioning authority. It is of the utmost importance for A’s +development that he fought to bar from consciousness any hostile +thought directed against his father, and that he succeeded in +repressing his father-hatred very deeply. He was able to identify +himself with the father, and to copy many of the paternal standards and +attributes. The strength of these identifications is indicated by the +tenacity with which A held to certain paternal patterns. Although his +much-touted uncle had been a famous writer and professor, A remained a +preacher, even when tempted by a flattering offer to leave his first +humble parish for the faculty of a great university. He cherished the +paternal prejudice against money-making and money-makers. His boyhood +home was where some wealthy people spent their summers, and A’s +father would speak contemptuously of “the fashionables” who loitered +ostentatiously past the house. This was an additional determiner of A’s +subsequent devotion to the welfare of the poor, which manifested itself +in financial sacrifice and socialist agitation. A was very susceptible +to old men, and idealized not only his early teachers, but a venerable +pacifist who approved of his wartime conduct. + +The negative side of A’s attitude toward authority came out in the +choice of the abstract (remote) objects upon which to vent his hatred. +The hostility which was denied conscious recognition and direct +indulgence against the actual father was displaced against substitute +symbols, such as the dogma which required the acceptance of the +Scriptures by faith, of the capitalistic system, and of the militarists. + +When A was introduced to a stranger, he was genial, talkative, and +anxious to impress. When he was aware of opposition in his environment, +he overreacted at once, hurling a vast repertory of jibes and flouts +and sneers at the offender. This gives a clue to an important element +in his makeup which will come out very distinctly in subsequent cases, +namely, a strong latent homosexual trend. When the individual is not +able to achieve full heterosexual adjustment, the sexual libido tends +to work itself out in more primitive ways, and one of the phases of +emotional development is the homosexual epoch. Earlier, however, than +the adolescent homosexual period is the phase connected with the +suppression of auto-erotic activities. The child characteristically +uses its nutritional object (nurse-mother) for the sake of stimulating +his own erogenous zones as much as possible. This “incestuous” drive +is curbed, and the child is denied the pleasure of promiscuously +fingering others, and of manually stimulating his own genitalia. +Though the nurse or mother, who is the target of the desires of the +child, also administers the prohibitions, the sanction which lurks most +prominently in the background is the strength of the father. Reduced +to its ultimate expression, this sanction is the threat of depriving +the child of his much-valued organs unless he observes the “hands off” +prohibition. The “normal” development is for the hostile protest at +authoritarian interference to subside, and for the child to copy the +idealized father. The repression of hostilities and the identification +with the father do not take place instantly. Identification is not +achieved without a phase in which the child plays a femininely passive +rôle toward the father, and this is the passively homosexual reaction +which may for one reason or another be unusually strong. A’s fantasies +of his father’s beautiful skin are common screen fantasies for more +primitive drives. + +A’s tendency to overreact to the stranger who is merely polite, +and to interpret the stranger’s interest as a “personal” one, is +characteristic of the one in whom this passive “winning” rôle is of +some importance. He tries to create an overpersonal relationship +in those somewhat formal situations where ordinary conversational +requirements are such as to force conventional compliments. + +The overreactive hostility toward those who merely differ from him is +partially motivated by the desire to punish those who have rejected +the affection which he all too quickly volunteers. This wound to his +narcissism demands that wounds shall be inflicted on the offending +objects. Now it is commonly observed that repressed drives are likely +to secure partial gratification in the very activities which are in +part a protection against them. Sneers and jibes would at first seem +to free him from those who arouse and reject him, but this is not +the whole result. A exceeded the bounds of convention and became +recklessly provocative. His wild assaults and defiances tended to +provoke the social environment into attacking him, and thus to gratify +two powerful unconscious drives. He wanted to be forced into a passive, +feminine, victimized rôle, and to inflict upon himself the punishment +which he deserved for excessive hatred of others. Thus A felt quite +happy, escaping moods of depression, as long as he was indulging his +hostility against conspicuous conventional authorities in society, and +as long as he was suffering from society’s retaliatory measures. His +romantic idea of starving to death as a gesture of sanity in a war-mad +world is indicative of his pleasure in the “martyr rôle.” + +He could not endure “inharmonious” people, and built up a “soft” and +overindulgent group around him. He had a small group of admirers who +turned to him for advice and who looked up to his superior wisdom +and moral courage. Nothing pained him more than the slightest jar in +personal relations. This disparity between his demands for gentleness +in the primary group, and his genius for creating a disturbance in a +secondary group, suggests the tension produced within his personality +by the struggle with the feminine component. He was careful to keep +away from close-working subordination to a powerful personality. He +stayed in environments where his authority was unchallenged. In the +church he was both a financial pillar and the pastor, and among the +socialists he was sustained by the halo of moral and cultural prestige. + +It is noteworthy that though A was venomous when publicly opposed, +he was capable of a wooing and persuasive strain which he could +effectively use in his proselyting work. His humor was of the +mock-modesty variety, and relieved the moral earnestness of his +discourses. A showed much tenacity and skill in following people whom +he once loved and respected, and in attempting to convert them to a +community of views with him. He displayed a strong impulse to enter +into and to cultivate personal interchanges by correspondence. + +That A found the task of asserting himself in the world rather arduous +is suggested by the desire for dependence upon women. He entered +into a whole series of “platonic” friendships (“platonic” in the +popular and not in the correct use of the word) with women, and he +accepted economic support from his wife for several years. He was very +“sensitive,” and required a great deal of coddling in the home. + +There are indications of the way in which his very early experiences +influenced his trait formation. The infant takes pleasure in activities +centering about the mouth, and this at first involves pleasurable +sucking and later on, as the teeth begin to push through, this involves +pleasurable biting. In our culture this leads to a withdrawal of the +nipple, precipitating one of the major crises of growth. Weaning is the +first substantial loss which is inflicted upon the individual after +birth, and the way in which it is met establishes reaction patterns +which may serve as important prototypes for subsequent behavior. About +the time that the weaning deprivation occurs, the child is exposed to +another set of conditions which demand sacrifice. He is supposed to +control the elimination of his feces by giving up a part of his body +at regular intervals. The growing child is also supposed to sacrifice +another source of irresponsible pleasure by blocking his impulses to +handle his genitalia. When the taboo on handling the genital organs +for erotic purposes is set up with particular stringency by the +methods adopted to curb early masturbation, some of the energy of the +personality regresses to reanimate previous auto-erotic dispositions. +This involves strengthening of the anal and oral components of the +personality. + +On the basis of the oral and anal origin of various traits, Karl +Abraham has worked out a psychoanalytic theory of character +formation.[32] The material which is available on A is too scanty to +reveal the psychological mechanisms of infancy and early childhood. +If a cross-section of his later character traits be tentatively +interpreted in the light of Abraham’s scheme, it may be said to show a +predominance of traits from the oral phase of development. A striking +characteristic of A has always been his optimism. He has never become +despondent and passed through serious “blue spells,” whether he lost +his job, reached the end of his financial resources, lost a bride, or +suffered social ostracism from all but a small though admiring circle. +Disappointments and some illness have brought him comparatively little +worry. Abraham traces this trait to the earliest level of character +organization, saying that it indicates a child who, thanks to the +abundance of nursing care, is accustomed to find the world responding +copiously and quickly to his demands. A always felt an inner assurance +that he would be cared for, and that all would come out for the best in +the end “to those who serve the Lord, and are called according to his +purpose.” He accepted a position of economic dependence upon his wife, +and upon the charity of radical ladies, without conflict. His nurse +was still there to provide for him. A never showed any interest in +accumulating money, and generously shared all that he possessed. His +small legacy was eaten up by the society over which he presided, and he +was always on the poverty line. + +He not only gave bountifully of such money as he possessed, but +copiously of his ideas. Automatically he took the lead in conversation, +genially pouring forth streams of ideas. The savagery of his attack +on those who disagreed with him, though an oral trait in part, stems, +according to Abraham, not from the sucking phase of early development, +but from the next succeeding or oral-sadistic phase. + +Those individuals who have difficulty in accepting their +heterosexuality are cut off from normal sex life, and seek to emphasize +the acts preparatory to, and not consummatory of, copulation. An +interest in sexual peeping was in some measure gratified by A’s +experiences in listening to the personal difficulties of those who +came to him for counsel. The high value which he placed on appearing +before the public, while perhaps adequately accounted for on the basis +of his father-identification, probably had the additional advantage +of gratifying his exhibitionistic drive. Since drink is in legend and +life a frequent precursor of copulation, the reformer exaggerates its +importance, and tries to stop it. Alcohol was early associated with +sexual excesses in the mind of A, and his hostility to it was something +more than a simple reflection of his milieu.[33] + +A’s intensity of manner betrayed the magnitude of the neurotic +conflicts within his own personality. This intensity is not alone +due to the insecurity arising from the failure to exterminate his +own conscious awareness of sex, nor to his sense of sin for erotic +impulses, nor to his fears of impotence, nor to the reaction organized +when he was competing with his brother for the attention of the father. +His sexual inhibitions removed from him one of the most dependable +means of disposing of the tensions which arise from the miscellaneous +frustrations met with in the course of daily life.[34] + +We have traced A’s demand for widespread emotional response to his +difficulties of personal adjustment, especially in the field of early +sexual development. We have followed through the displacement of the +drives, which were originally organized with reference to the family +circle, on to remote social objects, resulting in the espousal of +ideals of social change. We have seen that A’s particular technique for +arousing emotional response was denunciatory oratory, and that such a +technique expressed important underlying drives of his personality. +Since A happened to be a socialist, it is natural to compare him +with the socialist thinkers studied by Werner Sombart in _Der +proletarische Sozialismus_. There is no doubt that A is numbered among +the “artificial” rather than the “natural” men, since his relation to +reality is less direct than with the “natural” type. But it cannot be +said that social criticism was as deeply motivated in his life as among +the men mentioned by Sombart. He expressed himself not only in radical +agitation but in conservative, moralistic agitation. His career was +not wrecked at any particular point in his history, and he possessed +no mania for destruction, although showing much resentment against his +family, and indulging in an active fantasy life. He was fundamentally +an agitator, and secondarily a social radical. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +POLITICAL AGITATORS--_Continued_ + + +B is an agitator who uses his pen instead of his tongue. He has +achieved eminence in newspaper work, beginning as a news editor and +editorial writer. At twenty, when he held his first newspaper job, B +led a fight against the red-light district of the city, exposing the +pimps, panderers, and prostitutes in sensational style. He has always +responded quickly to the appeal of the underdog and revealed injustices +wherever he found them, and he won great popularity among minority +racial and national groups whose claims he championed before the +American public. It is noteworthy that B has never been converted to +“isms” and responds to the call of specific abuses. No one who knows B +has ever questioned his sincerity, for the news value of his campaigns +is often much less than the personal risks incurred. + +B has a high reputation for absolute truthfulness and reliability, +often carrying his scruples to what his fellow-newspapermen think are +unwarranted extremes. On one occasion, he threw up an excellent job on +a very well-known newspaper on a point of honor. The paper had divulged +the source of a story which he had received in confidence, and which +he communicated to the editor in confidence. Later he was made the +editor of an important newspaper. For five months he produced brilliant +results, when a misunderstanding arose with the proprietor over another +point of honor. In a despondent moment he resigned, but the proprietor +refused to let him leave, offering a substantial raise. He let himself +be persuaded to go back, but refused to accept the raise. Before long, +new points of honor arose, and he broke away for good. His passion for +justice made him a favorite with his staff; and his quiet good sense +and studiousness made him a name among older men and intellectuals. + +Some of his reforming campaigns were very thinly veiled displacements +of his own private motives. At the age of fourteen he was seduced by +a colored woman, and he reacted to this experience with fright and +disgust. He left a school which he attended after a series of boyish +escapades which culminated in an argument over missing laundry. The +laundryman was a negro. It was on his first newspaper job that he led +the fight to clean up a red-light district, featuring the fact that +both colored and white prostitutes were available. + +B was one of the numerous family of a Civil War veteran on the +Confederate side. His father carried himself like a soldier and +expected his children to act like soldiers under all circumstances. He +was spare, thin, and active, and his temper was short. He was boss in +the house, ordering his wife about a great deal, and demanding implicit +obedience from the children. + +The mother of B was eleven years younger than her husband. She had +ten children in quick succession, and she spoiled them, and was +much beloved. She did all the cooking, washing, and ironing for the +household, and slaved to allow the children to obtain an education. +Everybody but her husband thought she worked too hard. She was herself +eager for learning, but had no opportunity to continue her studies +after marriage. Although poor, she was proud, and never asked alms or +assistance of any kind. Though “obstinate as a mule,” she was timid +and shrinking in ordinary relations. Her routine was only broken by +occasional headaches. + +The father was a very suspicious man, and B bore the brunt of it. B was +the sixth child and from an early age had trouble with his next older +brother, who was three years his senior. On one memorable occasion the +elder brother attacked him with a knife. B was able to take the knife +away from him without being hurt. The affair was reported to the father +by an aunt who was living in the house, and who always sided with the +older boy. She said that B had been the aggressor, and in spite of his +indignant assertions of innocence, B was soundly whipped. Such episodes +aroused in him a deep protest against injustice, and an abiding +hostility against his father. Years afterward the truth came out, and +the father apologized, but animosities had grown too formidable to be +ceremoniously brushed aside. B cherished a long list of grievances +against his father. Once his father asked him to print some letters; he +presently found that this was for the purpose of comparing them with an +inscription on the lavatory wall. + +Genital activities had their usual connotation of sinfulness. His +father went so far with his prudery that B, who was once discovered +naked in his own room, where he was slowly dressing, was severely +reprimanded. Shortly after being seduced by the negro woman, his +sense of guilt, combined with his ever present resentment against his +father’s unjust treatment, led him to run away from home. After staying +away from home and working his way through school for about a year +and a half, he returned home and went to work in the neighborhood, +attracted chiefly by the prospect of being back with his mother. + +It is noteworthy that in his career B was constantly finding pretexts +to escape from a situation in which he was popular and successful. +Salary increases, promotions, and social recognition came to him, but +he managed to extricate himself from every such situation, often on a +“point of honor.” An excellent journalist, he always had a new door +open. Thus he passed from one editorial desk to another, and even to +a private news-service venture which turned out well in spite of the +heavy handicaps on such an undertaking. + +How can such behavior be accounted for? Let us suppose that friendly +treatment on the part of superiors tends to activate a strong +homosexual drive which has been repressed, but which continues to +threaten to find expression. This unconscious drive urges him to +intimacy with persons in the environment, whereupon his conscience, +reacting blindly against the outlaw impulse, seeks to provoke a flight +from the environment, and thus to escape from the exciting objects of +desire. The outcome is a compromise formation in which the illicit +hope of being attacked and violated by the environment is gratified +by imagining that the environment has compromised his “honor.” The +conscience is gratified by the retreat from temptation. No sooner is +B in a new environment than the tension begins to accumulate all over +again. By throwing himself with zeal into a new and strange position, +where the environment is impersonal, success comes, and with success +and habituation to the milieu, there come familiarity and friendship. +This produces the familiar strain by reactivating the unconscious +homosexuality, and the defending conscience finds another retreat +imperative. + +What specific justification is there for the hypothesis just proposed? +B finally came into a situation from which he could scarcely escape +by the usual tactics. He scored one of the great successes of his +career by being invited to accompany a government commission which +investigated conditions abroad, and covered the assignment in brilliant +style. He was shown all manner of courtesy. Working under high +pressure, he plunged into another assignment, and once more had the +journalistic world at his feet. But the strain of success was too much. +This time he sought release, not by flight to a new job, which was +difficult, but by developing a delusional system. In short, B went into +a psychotic phase, and substituted for the world of reality a fantasy +world of such sinister dimensions that he was justified in trying to +escape from it. Unable to concentrate on his work, he moved restlessly +from one town to another, and launched forth on long automobile tours +with his wife. + +The actual content of his delusional productions gives a clue to his +mental conflict. He had ideas of reference, imagining that people on +the street were looking at him mysteriously. He claimed that he was a +party to the Teapot Dome scandal and that there was a dictaphone in +the house. On the way to be examined at a sanitarium he claimed that +he was being trailed by policemen. Upon admission he claimed that the +orderlies were policemen, that he was being electrocuted, that his bed +was wired to record all his movements, and that filthy songs were sung +to him (with homosexual content). Discharged from the sanitarium, he +was taken to a family reunion. He claimed to be treated as a negro, +and declined to eat with family or sleep in the house. B claimed that +a forest fire was caused by him and that books in the library were +re-written on his account. On a motor trip he claimed that insulting +remarks were made to him at every gas station. He turned against his +wife (he had been sexually inactive in marriage), and finally called +her a snake who ought to be killed, and proceeded to try it. + +During the course of his psychosis it emerged that he recalls a sexual +seduction by his older brother, and that he had been bothered by +this fancy all his life. There was material to show that his father +was likewise implicated in his homosexual fantasies, and that he had +“eroticized” the injustices of his father and the physical attacks of +his brother.[35] + +The history of B belongs to a borderline group between agitators +and administrators. His administrative ability is manifest in the +managing editorships which he held, and in the special service which +he organized and for a time conducted. His rôle as an agitator (in +writing) began when he was twenty, and continued for more than another +score of years. When this record is taken in juxtaposition to that +of A, it shows how differences in displacement affect the growth +of the personality. B was never able to displace his hatred and +affections to remote, impersonal objects with the degree of success +which characterized A. The campaigns of B against injustice were more +concrete, more limited, and more personal than the agitations of A. It +will be remembered that B’s first crusade was against black-and-tan +houses of prostitution, and this was in the nature of a revenge and +a penance for his early experience with the colored woman. B was +raised in a relatively inarticulate environment. His father made no +public appearances, no member of the family achieved more than a +rudimentary education, and no conversation was possible beyond the +visible environment. Since B went to work at sixteen, he saw the +world more from a concrete point of view while A was peering at the +universe through the theoretical lenses of the schools. His history +shows prolonged preoccupation with his own specific grievances against +the original objects--against the father, brother, and aunt. This was +a factor which disposed him to greater susceptibility to persons in +the immediate environment than A. Although driven to become a rather +seclusive child who read books more often than he played, no one +took a special interest in his intellectual prospects. His maternal +grandfather was said to have been a brilliant teacher, but not much was +made of this model when B was a boy.[36] + +Unlike A, B lacked the trick of dramatizing himself before a crowd. +Inspection of his early history in the home shows that he lacked the +practice in imposture which may be a prerequisite of this ability. +B was never able to carry off a pose to impress his family with his +own virtue and promise. Indeed, he had very early evidence of his +own shortcomings, and his father not only accused him of sins he did +commit, but padded the record with many that he had not contemplated. B +was never able to get away with much. + +The foregoing excerpts from the history of B illustrate how closely the +behavior of the victim of a functional disorder may connect with the +fundamental drives of the personality. Functional mental disorders are +efforts at adjustment that fail, and the materials employed are those +which the personality has available on the basis of its developmental +history. + +In the paranoid case just discussed, “grandiosity”--delusions of +grandeur--was not as prominent as it often is. Grandiose delusions +seem to be linked with very strong impotence fears. This connection +may be shown in gross clinical caricature in the case of C. This man +belongs to the well-known group of verbose cranks who often surround +themselves with admiring circles of disciples, and do nobody much +harm. C went so far as to run for president of the United States on a +minority ticket. + +C came into medical hands quite by accident. He belongs to a very +common type which preserves the personality sufficiently intact from +deterioration to pass for well, though eccentric. C got into a dispute +with a colored expressman over the charge for moving his goods to a new +apartment, and the expressman called the police, who presently turned +C over to a hospital. C imagined that the negro was plotting to ruin +him by stealing his most valuable books and manuscripts. He announced +that he was going to be the next president of the United States of +America, since the reign of the present incumbent was to be short, and +damned short at that. On the next inauguration day he will take charge +by divine power, and after that his red-headed wife will be given full +authority. He said that during the last presidential campaign he had +a conference with the governor of New York concerning the leadership +of American parties. At that time the governor told him that he was a +wonderful man and a logical party leader. He declared that though as a +rule he does not believe in prophets, one absolutely reliable prophet +had testified that he would be president. This man had a vision in +which a wedge was drawn between the Democrat and Republican parties, +and an unknown man arose who was to rule the world. This man would have +six letters in his name. He is “Six and Six,” and this exactly fits C. +C’s real name is “Arabulah the Divine Guest.” Using this name, he wrote +a nine-thousand-word treatise on politics and world-peace which he +said was thought to be supernaturally brilliant. + +He was sure that he got into the hospital through a damnable trick of +his enemies. “It is prophesied that I am to be the next president. To +defeat this, they put me here. I’m just a martyr, but I’ll come out on +top in the end.” He would be president in fulfilment of prophecy. + +C more than hinted at the scientific secrets at his command. He had +recently consulted Dr. A of the government about his process for the +manufacture of diamonds. More pressure was all that was needed. He +declared that he is a wonderful amateur chemist, and that he has a +process for manufacturing coal that he learned confidentially from a +shoemaker. + +When a young man he was appointed a clerk in one of the government +departments, but was thrown out of a job when the Democrats were +elected in the late eighties. He then became what he called a promoter +of inventions and an inventor. + +A clue to the source of his delusional system is furnished by his +sexual history and fantasies. At the age of fifty-nine he married a +widow with two children. He describes his wife as of surpassing beauty, +and as for himself, he declared that he possessed three testicles, and +that he is a perfect specimen of a man, a most beautiful Apollo from +the neck down, and asked to pose as a model. He refused, however, to be +photographed, or to disclose anything further about his sexual history. + +Impotence fear as the root of the luxurious tree of grandiose delusions +is sometimes directly demonstrated by the obvious nature of the +invention on which the individual is engaged. The mysterious perpetual +motion machine turns out to be a crude version of the sexual organs.[37] + +Shortly after C left the hospital, he was busy on the stump, haranguing +large audiences as a presidential candidate on a protest ticket. + +C would not be taken seriously by many people of much culture and +discernment, but there are paranoid types who are plausible enough in +their accusations to win the support of discriminating men. Many of +them are “litigious paranoids,” and, as implied by the term, they are +characterized by the legal and agitational means which they exploit +for the redress of grievances. They succeed in rationalizing their +motives so adroitly that they are very dangerous troublemakers. Even +when psychiatrists diagnose them as psychotic, they are able to put +up a front so successfully that they are often released from custody +by judge or jury. Were the data available it would be interesting to +calculate how much this active and by no means uncommon element in +society costs in terms of litigation fees and damaged reputations. + +One of the smoothest customers of this description is D. After leaving +high school because of his ambition to earn money, he presently +became a traveling salesman for an electrical company. He was very +successful and soon accumulated enough to start himself in business, +aided somewhat by the money of the woman whom he married. From the +beginning he was involved in numerous lawsuits with big corporations. +He was finally sent to the penitentiary for having assumed the name of +another company which was already operating. Since the address of the +new company, as well as the name, was so similar to that of the older +concern, he received mail and checks intended for the corporation. His +own story is that he was persecuted by a certain big corporation, which +tried consistently to ruin his business, even poisoning the mind of +his wife against him (who soon divorced D). Whenever a suit was being +tried against him, he claims always to have found a representative +of the big corporation in town. These ideas of persecution extended +through the trial, which he asserts was unfairly conducted, and to the +penitentiary, where he claimed that officials were in league with the +corporation to keep him imprisoned. His conduct was such that he was +finally transferred from the prison to a mental hospital, where his +attitude was that of contemptuous superiority. He collected evidence +against the hospital, listening to all who complained of any sort of +cruelty and incompetence, and constantly occupied himself with schemes +to release prisoners and expose his persecutors. + +D has an impressive, deliberate manner. There are no marks of the +maniac about him to fit into the popular idea of a “crazy man.” +In conversation with strangers he puts his own case, and the +case of others, with seeming moderation, emphasizing the obvious +difficulties in the way of collecting conclusive evidence, and showing +scrupulousness about affidavits and other documentary material. He has +succeeded in establishing connections with prominent people in many +walks of life, and is devoting himself to the cause of the underdog, +with special reference to those unfortunates who are thrown into insane +asylums and kept there by enemies who league themselves with doctors +and superintendents. + +He is associated with groups of people who band together in little +agitational organizations with such unexceptionable names as +Vigilantes of the Constitution, Foundation for Legal and Human Rights, +American Equity Association. Their indictment of modern jurisprudence +is pithily formulated in the slogan, “One Law for the Rich--Another Law +for the Poor.” The object of one of these associations is: + + To secure to all persons the rights, privileges, and immunities + which are theirs under the Constitution and laws of the United + States, and to which they are justly entitled as members of the + human family.... Those aided are: worthy cases unable to hire legal + counsel; victims of corrupt practices; friendless and unfortunates + restrained in Institutions, who require assistance; ex-service men + who have not been able to have legitimate claims considered, etc., + etc. + +One of the cases which is often referred to in the papers published +by this group is that of William J. O’Brien. The headline of one +article reads as follows: “Poor Private Wm. J. O’Brien, Sane +Veteran of the Apache Indian Campaign, Railroaded to the Madhouse. +Denied Justice--Denied His Day in Court--No Trial--No Lunacy +Proceedings--Illegally Held 34 Years....” In the body of the article +this statement occurs: “Mr. O’Brien indulged in some disorderly +conduct in the office of the War Department. He was immediately +arrested, charged with assault which he did not commit, and brought +into the Supreme Court.” I examined the record of the O’Brien case and +found that “some disorderly conduct” consisted in visiting the War +Department, shooting two clerks, and trying to shoot some more before +his gun jammed. + +The inference should not, of course, be hastily drawn that all the +claims made by agitators, even of the psychotic stamp, are pure +fabrications. That is to be determined in the individual instance. Thus +the slogan about “One Law for the Rich--Another Law for the Poor” has +very reputable support in the findings of such surveys of criminal +justice as the one at Cleveland, in which Dean Pound of Harvard had +a responsible share. But in the case of the litigious paranoids +the underlying private motivation is so imperious that wholesale +distortions of truth are inevitable. Sometimes reckless accusations +bring cruel results, as when another psychotic, E, claimed that a +certain Captain K was shot in the back while circling over a flying +field. This fabrication got to the family of the soldier, who had been +informed that the Captain had been killed in an aeroplane accident, and +caused much unnecessary suffering. + +The history of F affords some contrasts to what has gone before. F took +up agitation in middle life. It will be remembered that A directed much +of his agitational zeal against culture objects which were sanctioned +by his family and the “substantial” elements in the nation. F was the +reverse of a nonconformist. He was no pacifist, but a soldier-patriot. +The enemies of his country were his enemies, and he denounced them +up and down the land. The authority of revealed religion was not a +debatable question; the enemies of Christianity were his enemies and he +went on the platform to expose them. + +Several of his patriotic and religious lectures became famous among +the smaller communities of the land. He told the story of a renegade +who impersonated Christ for the purpose of collecting funds to +start an insurrection against the American government in one of our +dependencies. He gave a thrilling account of how he sought out and +apprehended this monster. A Y.M.C.A. worker, in a testimonial letter, +declared, “Every man sat spellbound as the speaker bared the facts in +the most sacrilegious undertaking of modern times to thwart the plans +of the American government.” + +F was a moving spirit in the opposition to the Covenant of the League +of Nations because the name of God was not mentioned in it. His +argument on the point is said to have impressed President Harding. One +of F’s public pronouncements on the subject read as follows: + + There might be no trespass in an “Association of Nations for + Conference” coming together if they did nothing but _confer_, and + did no acting or legislating whatever, _if_ they beforehand and by + common consent did the following before the whole world: + + 1st, Acknowledge Almighty God before the world, with a promise to + serve _Him!_ + + 2nd, Acknowledge allegiance to God’s Peace Plan--the Kingdom of the + Prince of Peace--for world peace, which the Bible provides for! + + 3rd, Ignore all man-made plans for peace, such as World + Federations, Hague Tribunals, World Leagues, World Courts and + all forms of _Human_ world-governments, which the Bible provides + against! + + 4th, Refrain absolutely from everything that has the slightest + tinge of world-alliance, world-control, or world-domination + influence or world concert of civil action, the human + instrumentalities that Holy Writ severely prohibits. + + 5th, Especially for the United States. Refrain absolutely from + everything that contravenes our U. S. Constitution and the + Declaration of Independence! (And every nation should alike protect + their Constitution!) + + When thru centuries of trial the world failed to keep _the + Covenant_ written at Sinai by the Hand of Almighty God Himself and + _He_ promised that _He_ would give the world “A New Covenant” for + peace, which _He_ did, then how can the world, except anything + whatsoever from _The League of Nation’s Covenant_ written at Paris + by the mortal hands of just mere men like Wilson, Lloyd George, + Clemenceau & Co.? + +After serving in the army as a young man, F joined the secret service, +and spent several years in pursuit of the enemies of law and order. +His record was excellent, and when the World War came he was put +in charge of secret military police. He became overzealous in the +performance of his duties, spending an altogether disproportionate +amount of time investigating two Mennonite ministers who were alleged +to have letters in their possession written in German criticizing the +Liberty Loan. He claimed to have found ground glass in the bread served +to men in camp. When the laboratory did not confirm his findings, he +said that he mixed ground glass with flour and submitted a sample to +the laboratory, which reported no ground glass, thus confirming his +suspicions that the laboratory staff was composed of aliens--a German, +an Austrian, and a Turk. He began to make direct accusations that some +of the camp officers were in league with the enemy. One of them he +accused of using a German private in his office for translation work, +and intrusting him with a key to the iron safe where the United States +secret codes were kept. Presently F was referred to a psychiatrist +for examination, to whom he complained that he was the victim of a +persecution by a little clique of officers. He managed to publish an +interview in the press asserting that ground glass in the food had +made fifty men ill at a certain training camp, and this led to much +unnecessary anxiety among the folks at home. + +F’s anxiety to “do his bit” in the suspicion-ladened atmosphere which +surrounded America’s entry into the war led his suspicious nature to +overdo the matter. When some of his efforts were blocked by fellow +officers, he began to develop persecutory ideas. But he was soon able +to dispense with them by reinforcing his identification with the +interests of the nation and God, and displacing his suspicions upon +more generalized foes. When his secret-service work was blocked, he +was able to make a transition to agitation, where he balanced the +lost gratification of cherishing secret knowledge with the pleasure +of exhibiting it in public. The record does not contain enough early +childhood material to justify one in venturing to select the determiner +of his capacity to make such an adjustment. The history simply +furnishes a striking example of how a flight into agitation may perform +the function of keeping the personality in some sort of passable +relation to reality, when it has met a serious setback. It gives +another instance to the sum of those which show the difficulties which +may be created in society by those whose personality is influenced by +strong paranoidal trends. + +The histories so far abstracted have had to do with male agitators +of various kinds. Miss G, when thirty-five years of age, came to the +physician complaining that she was constantly bothered by blushing, +stage fright, uncertainty, palpitations of the heart, and weeping +spells. She is known to be forceful, ambitious, and aggressive. Her +contentiousness is notorious. She is active in the support of all +kinds of measures, particularly for the emancipation of women from the +domination of men. She rose to her present distinction from a very +humble position as a handworker, and she champions the radical cause. + +An early reminiscence was recovered during analysis which had been +completely buried before. Sometime between the ages of five and +three she had been asked by a nurse to touch her nurse’s genitals, +and threatened with dire things if she told. When she was in bed +with her mother, she had to fight against a powerful compulsion to +touch her mother’s genitalia. This early assumption of the male rôle +was strengthened by her father-identification. In the analysis she +reported that she and her father possessed many common traits, such as +stubbornness. As sometimes happens with children showing traits of the +opposite sex, their brothers or sisters reveal cross-traits. Thus her +younger brother cooked and sewed. Her father took her side in family +altercations with the mother (the father was an artist). The mother was +religious, and on the death of her mother the patient was religious +for six months from a sense of possible guilt for having precipitated +her death. Everybody said that she ought to have been a boy since +she showed so much physical dash and hardihood. Between six and ten +she often stole money from her parents, and was caught reading other +people’s letters. + +As a child she suffered seriously from vague worries. At the age of +seventeen she was unable to read her own compositions before the class. +She talked rather badly in groups and before strangers, but was very +effective in face-to-face conversations. In public she spoke best when +attacked. She had a constant fear of being subordinated to a man, and +was constantly on the alert to assert herself. She had a horror of +marriage, which she thought of as gross subordination to the crude +physical desires of men. One budding love affair broke up when the man +went insane and died. + +For a long time she longed to have a child, but only one child. She +wished that there were some other means of impregnation than by using +a man, but finally decided to bend to the inevitable. Several years +before analysis she looked around to select a man to be the father +of her child. It was a year after she became acquainted with the man +before she could bring herself to coitus, and she felt befouled. After +the birth of the child she became utterly indifferent to the man, and +broke off their relationship. She was, of course, sexually frigid. + +What is the meaning of this demand for a child, and for but a single +child? It was essentially a subconscious demand for the penis to +finish her assumption of the male rôle. The psychoanalytical study +of the growth of the female personality stresses the importance +which this motive assumes.[38] Gregory Zilboorg has analyzed certain +post-pregnancy psychoses from this point of view, and in so doing has +thoroughly surveyed the theoretical field.[39] + +Castration dreams appeared in the guise of losing muffs and keys. +Homosexual dreams took the usual shape of a nude homosexual figure. +Horrified by dreams of sexual intercourse with her father, she began +the analytical process. Her narcissism expressed itself in both simple +and disguised form. She dreamed of being the mayor and of humiliating +men in all manner of ways. She dreamed of influencing the whole world +(telepathic dreams). Incidentally, she credits dreams with some +prophetic significance. Once she dreamed of a clay field over which she +was passing which changed to plowed land, signifying work, and, sure +enough, she found a job the next day. Another time she was crossing a +brook and saw an ugly body in the stream, and developed laryngitis the +next day. + +The narcissistic component was strong. She felt the universal rule +of the analytical situation to say everything that crosses the mind +to be a personal command from the doctor. She bitterly resented this +subordination to a man, and finally broke off the analysis. She showed +a record of having been quite rebellious against those in authority +over her--shop foremen and party leaders. + +Miss G had an enormous masculine complex. She chose masculine goals, +and ruled out the female rôle as far as she could. Her narcissism +brought her from obscurity to distinction, though at the cost of +several neurotic difficulties in which her repressed drives found +crippling expression. She swings between vanity and inferiority +feelings. She blushes when praised, she blushes in public because of +the dependence of her sex on men, and she is timid in the presence of +academic people. She always feels ill at ease with strangers, and lives +in isolation from society. + +In theory and in practice Miss G is for free love, and for the complete +equality of the sexes. She sought out politics as a career as a means +of expressing the male rôle of dominance, a drive which was powerfully +organized in her early childhood experiences.[40] + +What has been said about the agitator may be brought together at this +point in a provisional summary. Our general theory of the political man +stressed three terms, the private motives, their displacement on to +public objects, and their rationalization in terms of public interests. +The agitator values mass-responses. Broadly speaking, this requires an +extension of the theory to make it possible to divide politicians among +themselves according to the means which they value in expressing the +drives of their personalities. Now what is there about the agitator’s +developmental history which predisposes him to work out his affects +toward social objects by seeking to arouse the public directly? +Why, to state it another way, is he the slave of the sentiments of +the community at large? Why is he not able to work quietly without +regard to the shifts of mood which distinguish the fickle masses? +Why is he not able to cultivate interests in the manipulation of +objective materials, in the achievement of aesthetic patterns, or in +the technical development of abstractions? Why is he not principally +concerned with the emotional responses of a single person, or a few +persons in his intimate circle? Why is he not willing to wait for +belated recognition by the many or by the specialized and competent few? + +Agitators as a class are strongly narcissistic types. Narcissism +is encouraged by obstacles in the early love relationships, or by +overindulgence and admiration in the family circle. Libido which is +blocked in moving outward toward objects settles back upon the self. +Sexual objects like the self are preferred, and a strong homosexual +component is thus characteristic. Among the agitators this yearning for +emotional response of the homosexual kind is displaced upon generalized +objects, and high value is placed on arousing emotional responses +from the community at large. The tremendous urge for expression in +written or spoken language is a roundabout method of gratifying +these underlying emotional drives. Agitators show many traits which +are characteristic of primitive narcissism in the exaggerated value +which they put on the efficacy of formulas and gestures in producing +results in the world of objective reality. The family history shows +much repression of the direct manifestation of hatred. There is +often a record of a “model boy” during the early years, or of a shy +and sensitive child who swallowed his resentments. Repressed sadism +is partly vented upon objects remote from the immediately given +environment, and favors the cultivation of general social interests. +The youth has usually learned to control by suppression and by +repression the full amplitude of his affects, and this is a discipline +in deceit. The narcissistic reactions prevent the developing individual +from entering into full and warm emotional relationships during +his puberty period, and sexual adjustments show varying degrees of +frigidity or impotence, and other forms of maladjustment.[41] Speaking +in terms of early growth phases, the agitators as a group show marked +predominance of oral traits. + +Distinctions within the agitating class itself may be drawn along +several lines. The oratorical agitator, in contradistinction to the +publicist, seems to show a long history of successful impostorship +in dealing with his environment. Mr. A, it will be recalled, was +able to pass for a model, and became skilled in the arts of putting +up a virtuous front. Agitators differ appreciably in the specificity +or the generality of the social objects upon which they succeed in +displacing their affects. Those who have been consciously attached to +their parents, and who have been successful impostors, are disposed to +choose remote and general objects. Those who have been conscious of +suppressing serious grievances against the early intimate circle, and +who have been unable to carry off the impostor’s rôle, are inclined to +pick more immediate and personal substitutes. The rational structure +tends toward theoretical completeness in the former case. Displacement +choices depend on the models available when the early identifications +are made. When the homosexual attitude is particularly important, +the assaultive, provocative relation to the environment is likely to +display itself; when the impotence fear is active, grandiose reaction +patterns appear more prominently. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +POLITICAL ADMINISTRATORS + + +Some administrators are full of ideas and others are seldom attracted +by novelty. Some do their best work under a rather indulgent chief; +others fall to pieces unless there is strong pressure from above. +There are administrators who derive their influence over subordinates +from the authority of their positions rather than from the authority +of their personalities. There are some who may be depended upon for +the conscientious performance of detailed tasks, while others neglect +details and think in terms of general policy. + +Viewed developmentally, it appears that one group of administrators is +remarkably akin to the agitators, differing only in the fact that they +are bound to particular individuals more closely, and thus displace +their affects upon less generalized objects. This gives a certain +independence to the administrator from the compulsion to “get a rise +out of” large numbers of the population. It ties him more securely, +however, to the members of his own environment, whose relations he +seeks to co-ordinate. The administrator is a co-ordinator of effort in +continuing activity. + +The group which is allied to the agitators includes those who show +imagination and promoting drive. The history of H belongs in this +class, and has the incidental interest of showing how H behaved in war +time. + +While it is accurate to say that H is diplomatic and seemingly open +and frank in dealing with his superiors, it should be added that +in situations which involve the fate of his own projects, he is +noticeably overtense, and likely to evaluate himself much higher than +others. He becomes slightly accusatory if his demands are rejected. The +elderly executive with whom H did his best work sometimes complained +that a conference with H was as fatiguing as a whole day’s work. The +older man felt that H might be entirely broken up if his projects were +rudely rejected, and he also believed the young man to be too valuable +to damage. H recognizes that he has often found himself shirking when +his superiors let him alone, and wonders why this attitude, which is +contrary to his own interests, should take hold of him. H displays a +tendency to behave arrogantly toward subordinates, and when he was in +the army it was obvious that he could maintain discipline only through +the formal authority vested in him. + +H is an only child. His father was a big, overpowering person, who +was a strict disciplinarian. The parents were very prudish in sexual +matters, and one of his embarrassing memories is the confusion and +vexation of his mother when he asked her about babies. Left to his own +resources, and stimulated by a variety of incidents to explore sexual +problems on his own initiative, the boy became involved in a set of +episodes and reveries which he tried to keep from the family, and thus +met every family situation with some anxiety lest his sins should +find him out. H grew into a hyperactive and seemingly light-hearted +youngster, who obeyed his parents implicitly and met strangers with +ingratiating charm. H was constantly occupied with the task of adopting +a manner toward authority which would conceal his secret preoccupations. + +About the age of four, H surprised his parents in a sexual embrace, +and vividly recalled his own mixture of burning curiosity and +embarrassment. Some of his early dream fragments indicate that he +repressed a powerful hostility toward his father, who he thought was +hurting his mother, and likewise repressed hatred of his mother, who he +felt was disloyal to him. + +His experiences continued through a long chain of incidents. There was +mutual exposure of sexual parts between him and a playmate of his own +age. A deeply repressed episode was a seduction in which he played the +principal part. He was meanwhile completely successful in playing the +rôle of model boy. + +When H was ten years of age, however, there transpired an incident +which for a time branded him in the neighborhood as a nasty little +renegade, and which had many subsequent repercussions. He touched the +exposed sexual parts of a neighbor girl, who was somewhat his junior. +The sister and brother of the girl were interested spectators. The +children told the cooks, and the news finally got around to the mother +of the girl. She took it calmly enough, but thought she ought to tell +the boy’s mother. H’s mother passed the story to his father, which was +the worst thing that could happen, from H’s point of view. His father +administered a sharp dressing-down, and forbade him to play outside +the yard for a fortnight. H’s father was very angry, and lectured him +about his sins every night for a while. Presently the father went over +to see the neighbor, and seems to have taken the line that the girl +was as much to blame as his son if not more so. This tactless behavior +completely alienated the neighbor. + +Now this neighbor happened to edit an important newspaper, and ever +afterward this newspaper lost no opportunity to assail the efficiency +of the department in the city government headed by H’s father. These +attacks continued over many years, and H’s father occasionally threw +it up to him that he had been responsible for the original quarrel. + +As it was, the boy was ostracized in the neighborhood for a year or +more, and was not invited to go to parties, although he could play +with the children. But H was self-conscious, and sought companionship +farther away. The brother of the girl thought that he ought to turn +against H, and there were some fights. + +At fourteen H began to go to high school. He kept away from the +swimming pool during the first year or two because he was much +embarrassed by the lack of hair around his genitals. This supposed +retardation, about which he worried a great deal, lasted but a short +time, when a new set of worries came up. He now believed that his penis +was abnormally large, and that his testicles were too low-hanging and +perhaps deformed. In college he was nicknamed “Cocky,” on account of +his jauntiness, but he secretly suspected that this was an allusion to +his penis. + +A chum taught him how to masturbate, and he continued to do so for +about six months, when his emissions became so frequent that his mother +told his father. For once, H’s father handled the situation with good +sense, and after a kindly interview in which the father explained that +it was not a good idea to indulge excessively, H quit. But even this +matter was not terminated, for the disturbing reverie remained that +perhaps his excessive masturbation had permanently impaired his manhood. + +H had a lively curiosity about his mother’s body of which he was +intensely ashamed. He recalls loitering in his mother’s room while she +made ready to change her clothes, hoping that she would forget to send +him out. He found himself speculating about the shape of her body, and +was several times on the verge of spying through the keyhole. But his +impulse was inhibited when he remembered the story told by his father +in which a “peeper” was spoken of with the greatest contempt. H dreamed +of sexual intercourse with his mother on several occasions, nearly +always during periods of unusual strain. These dreams were deeply +buried and came out into the clear with great difficulty. + +His sexual curiosity extended to animals, and he stimulated the sexual +parts of his dog. This further associated sex with the bestial and +unclean, and convinced him of his own guilt for so much as wondering +about it. + +H’s first sexual intercourse cost him much worry. It occurred during +his second year in high school. He had been sent with the family +automobile to drive home a guest, and noticed a girl of about his own +age who was gay and flirtatious. On the way home he picked up the girl +with two boys whom he knew slightly. All of them had sexual intercourse +with the girl. He was terribly worried that he might reach home too +late. His strict father had laid down the rule that if he got home +at any hour of the night, he was to wake up the family and give an +account of himself. In his haste he neglected to inspect the car and +his father found some hairpins in the tonneau. H denied that he knew +anything about them. The incident, however, was not closed. He saw an +item in the newspaper about several men who were arrested for rape, and +wondered whether he had committed a horrible crime himself with his +companions. Before long the girl became pregnant and was brought before +the juvenile court. She named another gang of boys, and this gang +accused H and his two companions of being to blame. He was horrified at +the prospect of going into court and dragging his family to disgrace. +H was afraid that his partners in wrongdoing would confess, but he +denied everything to his father, and his father’s political influence +kept him from being haled into court. But for at least a year the black +cloud of possible exposure hung on the horizon of his mind. + +All during his high-school days he had occasional sex intercourse, but +every episode was marred by some disagreeable features. While there +were such experiences with girls of low social standing, he had many +friendships with girls of good social position whom he idealized as +above sexuality. He attended a private school which was patronized +almost exclusively by children from very wealthy families, and H, who +was handsome, well dressed, quick, and agreeable, found his friends +among them. He was often in their homes and admired the signs of wealth +and culture. He became sensitive of the cultural limitations of his own +parents, and was afraid to entertain his school friends at home, but +fortunately from his point of view his father was willing to furnish +enough money to make it possible to hold up his end of the social +bargain at exclusive clubs and restaurants. + +In college H continued to draw a sharp line between those who could +be petted, but who were too rich and refined to be approached for +intercourse, and those who could be petted, and who were poor enough to +be asked for intercourse. He continued to associate with a smart and +wealthy set, and finally concentrated his attention on the daughter of +a rich business man whom he wanted to marry. His left-handed affairs +continued at irregular intervals, and he felt remorseful when he had +the perversions performed on him. + +Enough has been reported to convey an impression of H’s inner state. +His unsatisfied sexual curiosity had been whetted by his prudish +parents. His father defended his own ascendancy in the home by +ordering the boy about a great deal, and H responded to authority by a +system of reactions which became characteristic of him. He was tactful, +deferential, and acquiescent, qualified by inner resentment and rare +gestures of defiance. The father was not a friend but a barrier to be +circumvented, and the father’s hegemony was protected by the sense of +guilty inferiority which he had created in his son. Family differences, +such as arose when the father objected to housekeeping details, or when +the boy wanted more freedom to use the car, always showed the same +balance of forces--mother and son versus the father. The mother did not +defend herself by robust contradiction but by weak complaints. There +were only two instances in which the boy flared up enough to resist his +father openly. + +If H had been more successful in winning applause outside the family, +it is quite possible that his position would have been made much easier +inside it. His social charm brought him into the most influential +circles, and this gratified his parents, but his father was a man of +action who felt that while wealthy friends were an asset, his son +ought to show more positive achievements. Though he never nagged H, +the father’s sternness, suspiciousness and absence of praise made a +deep impression on the boy, and gave him a sense of insecurity and +inadequacy. Although H scored no great successes, he went along without +academic catastrophe until college. He was suspended at the end of +his Freshman year for poor work, but came back after six months, +during which he pretended to his father that he was still in school. +The suspension was partly due to the advice given to the dean by his +fraternity brothers, who had found him very hard to manage, and wanted +to “bring him to his senses.” H was having a fling, since he was away +from home for the first time, and away from the intimidating father. +Presently he steadied down enough to get along. + +Reminiscences of his guilty sexual experiments, deeply charged with +guilt-feeling, were continually bobbing up to interfere with his +progress. Once he was assigned to debate in high-school public-speaking +class. His opponent proved to be the brother of the girl with whom +he had the notorious incident several years before. The brother was +a prominent school leader who had no doubt forgotten the affair, but +it continued to weigh on H. He always had felt uncomfortable in the +other boy’s presence, and on this occasion, being poorly prepared, the +situation became so unbearable that he fainted. + +He began to study agriculture at college, but soon found that he +had made a mistake. His family owned a ranch which he often visited +during vacations, and very much enjoyed. Farming was an avocation of +his father, and H had the idea that ranching was a genteel occupation +without much work, and with much ordering of other people about. +He vaguely thought of himself as a country gentleman of cultivated +leisure. The war saved H from agriculture. He took up aviation, without +losing “credits,” partly because the snobbish mother of his favorite +girl was bowled over by the uniform, and partly because he thought it +would be better to go into the war, if he had to go, as an officer than +as a private. His father’s influence secured a deferred classification +for him in the draft, and H, though feeling quite small about it, said +to himself that it was better for people to die who were without his +own advantages and achievements. + +His career as an officer in the camp brought out the traits to which +reference has previously been made. His engaging deference toward +his superiors won them all, but he had trouble with the men. His own +insecurity led to an arrogant pose on his part that offended every +man in the company. He also discovered that the moment discipline was +relaxed he became very careless in performing his own duties. + +The same constellation of traits reappeared in his administrative +career, modified by the fact that he learned to assume a less +provocative attitude toward his subordinates. He made a very good +record, and proposed a number of changes that were adopted for the +improvement of the service. + +Looking back over H’s history, the striking thing is his prolonged +worry about his adjustment to specific persons. H was never able to +make the hurdle into abstract interests. Even his administrative ideas +were closely tied to the immediate context of the service. H’s life was +very much dominated by his relationship to definite people, and this +meant a prolonged carry-over of early attitudes to these individuals. +Unlike B, who could rightly feel that his father and brother and aunt +were treating him unjustly, H was all too aware that he “deserved” more +than he got. His success as an impostor was rudely interrupted in some +early episodes. + +Another “marginal” history shows what happens to some men with +agitating aspirations who are not able to disentangle themselves +from a place inside an organization and to give themselves up wholly +to agitational work. Mr. I is a type occasionally met with inside +administrative staffs who makes a serious problem for himself and +others. He radiates plans that he neglects to execute, and he is +supercilious and defiant toward superiors. He lacks the drive, however, +to move over into agitational work entirely by identifying himself +with a sufficiently dramatic cause. Sometimes this is due, as in I’s +own case, to powerful early identifications with particular projects, +and with administrative work as such. When such a person can be pried +loose from certain of these early fixations, he often proves capable of +fulfilling the expectations which he is able to arouse. + +The father of I was a man whose extraordinary talents won him great +distinction, but who never quite managed to come through as brilliantly +as people had a right to expect from one so richly endowed. I’s father +could talk five or six languages and read many more. He was educated in +England, France, and Italy, and after serving as a professor of modern +languages, his interest in educational problems led him to become the +head of a famous preparatory school, and later of a public school. He +spent most of his time reading, and during the last decade of his life +drank heavily, but without impairing the quality of his work. Someone +who knew him pronounced the man “a self-centered intellectual who +died without a friend.” The mother of I was an adopted daughter of a +member of the British aristocracy, and was brought up in distinguished +social and intellectual circles. The mother was exceptionally active +in all sorts of humanitarian enterprises but lavished much time and +love on the boy, who was “dreadfully spoiled,” and accepted everybody’s +judgment that he was a budding genius. + +True to anticipations, the boy shot through school like a meteor, +ranking first in his subjects, and taking every available honor with +ease. In college he branched out into social and political life on a +large scale, and joined about twenty organizations, managing to have +himself put on every important committee. + +Like his father, the son took up public-school work. Becoming +interested in psychology, he did some graduate work, and quickly +published a book that received very favorable comment among those +best qualified to judge it. The idea of educational reform fired his +imagination, and he lectured far and wide, engaging in agitations to +secure legislation which would authorize a number of experimental +schools. + +The part of his history which is especially interesting to the student +of administration is this: He was continually at outs with his +superiors and colleagues. His first teaching position began with a +feud, and lasted but a little while. He was invited to resign his next +post. He was asked to resign the next position. He was asked to resign +the next position. These entries appear monotonously through his record. + +Everybody conceded the brilliance and fertility of his mind, and did +homage to the originality of his plans. He began work but failed to +carry it far, seeming to think that work planned was work done. His +methods were always aggressive. Seized of an administrative idea, he +went to his superiors. When they criticized the scheme, or rejected his +suggestion, he often took the bit in his teeth and tried to run the +ship in his own way. + +More than once financial irregularities have been discovered in +connection with his work. He has given out checks when no funds were +available, and run unduly large expense accounts. Whenever he has been +in financial jams, he has turned to other people for aid as a matter of +course, seeming to feel that he has a claim on the world for support. + +He has always been childishly dependent on his wife for praise. He +resented his wife’s motherhood, but has been overindulgent with the +two children, who, his wife says, have no respect for him. He likes to +be the center of attention, and is a clever showman, and a great deal +of a bluffer. He is usually not high tempered but affectionate. He is +inclined to be accusatory toward his wife--“a vixen”--but his wife +appears to be a keen person, who was enough impressed by his precocious +brilliance to marry and to pamper him, but who in later years has +delivered herself of pointed comments on his character. + +It seems that he has gone through several periods of alternating +exhilaration and despondency. The exhilarations came when he had a +position and when life became a little monotonous or a little hard. +At least one of these swings was sufficiently pronounced to lead to a +period of retirement in a sanitarium. During this time he was asked +what kind of work he liked best, and replied, “Reforming the world--my +first choice; second, exploiting the world.” + +The strength of his narcissism is self-evident, and the feminine marks +in his character are numerous. He expects to be nurtured and supported +by the world as a matter of right. He demands constant “mothering” +from his wife, and coddles the children. His father-hatred, which was +thoroughly repressed in the family, comes out in his difficulty with +father-surrogates, and in his determination to change the educational +system at points where the father took it for granted or overtly +defended it. The selection of the pedagogical rôle is itself indicative +of the strength of his father-identification. What seems to have +happened in his development is a fixation of interests in a relatively +narrow sphere in which the affects are so powerful and at the same time +so contradictory that difficulties are assured. He finds it impossible +to shake off his managerial aspirations sufficiently to devote all +his time to the propagation of ideas. Although his affects are +displaced upon abstract problems, they are not displaced upon objects +sufficiently removed from his father, and the displacement does not +succeed in making it possible for him to achieve an impersonal attitude +toward his superiors and colleagues in educational administration. The +exaggerated praise heaped upon him as a boy had much to do with the +narcissism. His incapacity to follow through is no doubt related to his +early conflicts over genital activity. The chief point of significant +contrast with A is that the narcissistic component interfered more +seriously with H’s development, since it led him to insist upon playing +an administrative rôle. A’s environment was less prostrate before him, +and he was able to avoid assuming administrative obligations where he +would be cramped and subordinated. + +The history of J, which has been reported by Alexander,[42] shows what +lies behind a powerful administrator’s thirst for responsibility, and +reveals how changes in the working relations inside an organization may +disorganize the individual. + +J was a driving executive whose superiors deferred to his judgment +and accepted his plans. His abounding energy sought an outlet through +the assumption of heavier and heavier responsibilities inside the +organization. Finally, a change in the chief executive brought J under +the immediate control of a man who handled him with cool assurance, +holding him firmly but considerately to his own formal sphere of +action. Confronted for the first time in his life by a more powerful +personality who knew how to regulate him, J took the wife of another +man for his mistress, and in spite of the remonstrances of those who +knew him, he held tenaciously to both the mistress and the wife. + +An analysis showed that J was characterized from early childhood by a +notable split in his personality. Side by side with his aggressive, +masculine drive there existed a strongly repressed, though powerful, +feminine tendency. His personality is to be rendered intelligible only +as a compromise formation between those two incompatible motives. The +repression of the passive component produced a regressive fixation upon +the wife, who was compelled to play a markedly maternal rôle, and to +humor his every whim. He resented it if his every wish was not defined +and fulfilled before he had to go to the trouble of putting it into +words. J has delicate aesthetic sensibilities, and is a cultivated +amateur in the arts. + +In sharpest imaginable contrast to his behavior at home was his +insatiable thirst for authority and responsibility in his professional +life. One of his dreams acutely symbolized him as a giant automobile of +untold horse-power, whose body was a light French coach of the rococo +period. + +As Alexander comments, J’s life-problem was to indulge his passive +demands without doing violence to his masculine ideal. But this was +not accomplished without strain. He could earn periods of indulgence +in aesthetics by exaggerated aggressiveness in his work, but as his +feminine tendencies were gratified, his masculine ideal was endangered, +and he would be driven back to high-pressure management. The +psychological significance of his work was symbolized in the following +dream: He was penetrating a thick sheet of cardboard with a needle, +and continually asking for new sheets to bore through. He succeeded +in going through several thicknesses. The cardboard represented his +occupational problems, and the needle his penis. His professional +activity was largely a sublimation of his aggressive, active sexuality. + +The equilibrium between his aggressiveness in work and his passivity +in marital life was upset by the new chief executive, who skilfully +hemmed in his activity. Alexander remarks that it is impossible for +a man who has struggled all his life against very strong unconscious +homosexuality to serve under a strong man. The dominating personality +arouses the latent attitude, and the subordinate must resort to special +means of maintaining his repression. In the case of B, which we have +previously considered, the means of restoring some sort of equilibrium +was escape (by resigning), but when that became very difficult, he fled +into a world of fantasy (a psychosis). J met the crisis by breaking +through the sublimation of his heterosexuality, and taking a mistress +as an outlet for his thwarted drives. Further than that, he vindicated +his masculinity in a very dramatic way. He not only took a mistress, +but he took the wife of another. + +From now on, he was dependent on both women to preserve the equilibrium +of his personality. Previously the equilibrium had been maintained +between wife and work; now it depended on wife, mistress, and work, for +the aggressive, masculine component required the mistress to make up +for the limitations imposed upon his working sphere. + +Alexander reports that in the course of a long analysis this remarkable +split in the personality was traced back to early childhood. “At the +age of four he was already the same person.” At the age of four he +continued to drink milk out of a bottle, stubbornly resisting every +effort to break him of the practice. But--and it was with an emphatic +“but” that J produced the reminiscence--at the same time the boy was +especially adventurous and independent, riding all by himself out on +the highway. Here was the same antithesis that later expressed itself +in his peculiar relation to wife and work. The child won the right to +indulge his infantile, oral tendencies in one particular by exaggerated +boldness in other respects. This solution was the prototype for his +later life. + + The rôle of the bottle was later taken by his wife, whom he often + treated like an inanimate object whose only function was to + minister to his needs, while his work, and later his mistress, were + the successors to the bicycle, by means of which he was able to + prove his independence and his masculinity to himself and the world. + +The castration fear, which was aroused by the means adopted to break up +his infantile masturbation, favored the oral fixation, and came into +conflict with his strong masculine genital drive, laying the basis for +this notable character split. + + * * * * * + +The records so far discussed have had to do with inventive or driving +administrators. A type often met with in the public service is the +conscientious, overscrupulous official, whose touchiness, fondness +for detail, delight in routine, and passion for accuracy at once +preserve the integrity of the service and alienate the affections +of anybody who has to do business with the government. K was such a +man. For some years he was in the forestry service, where part of his +duties was to mark the trees that might be cut by private lumbermen. +The lumbermen naturally argued that the straight, sound trees should +be cut and the damaged ones left for seed. K took a variety of other +factors into account, and spent days measuring and estimating position, +growth rates, and shade area, exasperating the lumbermen with his +everlasting and often superfluous scrupulousness. He keenly felt his +responsibilities as a public servant, and disliked the very appearance +of succumbing to private pressure. At one time K resigned the service +in disgust because of “uncivil” treatment by a superior, but his +“touchiness” was much more deeply rooted in his nature than he had any +idea. + +The record of K is not only the story of a pedantic official but of +an ardent patriot. One of the highest forms of patriotism is supposed +to be volunteering for posts of conspicuous danger in war. K pulled +all the wires within reach to get a place on the front line, and only +the point-blank refusal of his superiors to allow him to squander his +technical ability prevented him from achieving his desire. From a +close examination of his intimate history we learn how one variety of +superpatriot comes to be. + +K was the youngest of four children. His next brother was eight years +his senior, his sister was five years older than this brother, and his +oldest brother was eighteen years ahead of him. + +He never remembered a time when his mother and father, who were +divorced when he was eight, were on good terms with each other. They +seldom spoke, except to quarrel. This family background was reflected +in the mental life of the growing child. K was notoriously nervous and +timid. From a very early day he began to be preoccupied with why he +was different from everybody else in the world. His sense of isolation +and strangeness led him to believe that perhaps he was the only real +person in the world and that everybody else was an illusion. He would +sometimes come up wonderingly to touch his mother, and then himself, +to see if she, too, were real. He speculated on how he could get away +from the human shadows around him, and became convinced that he could +fly. Several times he laboriously climbed up on the seat of a kitchen +chair, spread his arms like a bird, and leaped into space. Every time +he crashed to the floor, his frightened mother rescued him, but he +always felt surprised and rather aggrieved that he should fall, and +secretly believed that he could fly after all. This type of reaction +characteristically appears where emotional conflicts in the home create +an acute problem of emotional orientation for the child. + +As a small boy he was sent by his mother to follow his father when he +left the house, and to report where he went. K developed a strong sense +of guilt for this, and after the divorce was afraid that his father +would return and take revenge on him in some unknown and horrible way. +His father did occasionally reappear, and once invited the boy to spend +the night with him, but K was too frightened to accept. + +The family often lived in the country, and the self-consciousness of +K in the presence of strangers was heightened by frequent removals +into new and often isolated places. One of the towns near which he +lived when about nine was on a frontier. Gun-play was frequent, and +K remembers having seen the corpses of men who had been shot down in +street brawls. There were ominous-looking fellows around town, and the +boy gave them a wide berth. + +The death of his mother when he was twelve robbed K of his main +emotional support in a dangerous world. She died after two years of +suffering from an infected limb. She would also spit into bits of +papers and burn them in the stove. K wondered why she did this, and +later developed a reverie the importance of which will soon appear. + +The older members of the family were left with K on their hands, and +they decided to club together and put all thought of marrying out of +their heads until he was able to stand alone. The boy did not then +realize the sacrifices they made for him, but he later discovered that +his older brother put off marrying the girl of his choice until she +broke off the engagement and married someone else. It was not until +about the time that he graduated from high school and the home was +broken up that he became aware of what he owed them, and ever after he +was plagued by the thought of his unworthiness, and his incapacity to +repay his brothers and sister for their care. Up to that time he had +experienced no particular sense of gratitude, and although his older +brother once or twice referred to his dependent position, his private +feelings were mainly of resentment against the restrictions imposed +upon him. + +And these restrictions were not inconsiderable. The family ran a +greenhouse, and the drudgery involved in such an occupation was +incessant. There were slips to transplant, beds to weed, and loads +to pull and carry. There were long hours of boredom over routine +occupations. K was expected to dash home from school at the earliest +possible moment, and to lend a hand with the endless chores about the +place. + +Occasionally he succeeded in evading his duties. He stopped to play on +the way home from deliveries, and he stayed at school on some pretext +or other to join the drill squad. But he was always haunted by fear +and guilt. His older brother was a strict disciplinarian, and beat +him several times. His sister occasionally let him have some spending +money, but as a rule he was tightly cramped financially. When his +gang organized into a drill squad, and chose their uniforms, he was +humiliated when the necessary dollars were not forthcoming from home. + +K was worried by what appeared to be a lack of physical stamina and +endurance. This idea (which had no basis in fact) in part grew out of +his efforts to do what his brothers did. They occasionally broad-jumped +or pulled weights, and of course K made a poor showing beside them. But +for the unconscious hostility against them, such unequal results would +not have disturbed him. His morbid worries about his strength led him +to submit to a great deal of bullying by town toughs. + +His adolescent years were marred by perpetual anxieties about his +social adequacy. He had been the victim of an explosion which left his +face marked with powder stains, and this repugnant tattooing, which +disappeared very gradually, embarrassed him for years. + +K’s older brothers and sister sometimes took him with them to parties +because there was nobody to leave him with, and an annoying sense of +being in the way added to his growing sense of social inadequacy. +During high-school days he fell in love with the daughter of the most +influential man in the locality, but as her social standards became +more exacting, his lack of money, leisure, and prestige made it +impossible for him to travel with her set. One of the most humiliating +episodes in his life was the one which broke up their relations. K had +arranged to meet her at a dancing class. Another girl called up to see +if he would take her, but he said he wasn’t going. His oldest brother +had listened in on the telephone extension, and was astonished to see +K appear all dressed up and on the way out. He launched forth on a +tirade, declaring that K gallivanted around throwing money away and +shirking his job, though he was absolutely dependent on others for his +daily bread. K was cut to the quick, and went back to his room churning +with too many emotions to call up and offer explanations to the girl. + +K had taken it for granted ever since he was a small boy that he would +go to college. He traced back his determination to an incident when +he was driving across the plains one magnificent starry night. He sat +in the bottom of the rig, rapt in contemplation of the sparkling sky, +while his mother chatted with her neighbor. Suddenly he asked how he +could find out about the stars, and she replied that people could study +all about them in college. He then and there resolved to go to college, +and never had a moment’s doubt about it, although the members of his +immediate family went no farther than the common school. + +In spite of his inferiority feelings, K was not cut off from some +measure of recognition in high school. His dependable and sympathetic +qualities impressed themselves upon those who came into close daily +contact with him, and he was made an officer of his high-school class. +He was respectful toward his teachers and good in his studies. + +College was an entirely different affair. His personal worries +multiplied during the transition period. Lacking funds, he sought +a scholarship. The only one tenable from his district to the state +university was in ceramic engineering, and after looking up “ceramic” +in the dictionary, he applied and was selected for admission. The work +proved to have no particular interest for him, and his social life was +even less satisfying. He was met at the college town by the members +of a church group who lived together in a dormitory (some friend had +written them), and he, though never devout, stopped with them during +the first term. This marked him as a non-fraternity man. He waited +tables in a fraternity house, and as bad luck would have it, a former +teacher wrote highly recommending him to the consideration of this +particular fraternity. When a committee broke the news to him, he was +utterly confused and made such a lamentable impression that it was not +possible to extend him the bid. One of his odd jobs was beating carpets +at a sorority house, and this turned out to be the sorority that had +pledged the girl with whom he had been (and still felt) in love. + +For relaxation K was forced into the domain of the kitchen maids. +A servant girl struck up a friendship with him, and he had sexual +relations with her. He had tried intercourse once during high-school +days, and had a premature emission, a practice which often bothered him +later, providing a permanent source of humiliation. + +Transferring to another college, he began his work in forestry, in +which he had acquired some interest during hikes with a friendly +high-school teacher. Handicapped by lack of money and worried by a +mounting sense of social inadequacy, his life was no more successful +than before. In high-school days he envied a talkative lad who +astonished the company by glibly recounting anecdotes about Napoleon. +One of his relatives whom he had known as a boy left an ideal of social +charm which never was attained. + +K’s inner uncertainties finally reached a point which led him to +resolve that he ought to discover once for all whether forestry +would prove to be a proper vocation. He left college and joined the +government service. This was to be the great test of his ability to +master himself. + +So keen was his preoccupation with self-mastery that he resented +every effort to influence him, and acted with unnecessary strictness +in dealing with private lumbermen. He was often deprived of human +relationships during his days in the field, and gradually his mind +became more and more enmeshed in morbid reflections about himself. +His mind simply refused to concentrate on the technical volumes which +he had brought with him to improve the solitude. Reveries which had +been slowly germinating on the periphery of his attention now began to +foliate. K had always wondered why his mother burned those little bits +of paper. It dawned on him one day that she might really have died of +tuberculosis, and that he must therefore be predisposed toward that +disease. Early in his high-school days, he had begun deep-breathing +exercises, though he had never freely admitted to himself or anybody +else what lay behind it. He always gave the usual account of his +mother’s death to insurance examiners, smothering his doubts in +affirmation. + +This was his state of mind when America entered the war. He found +himself saying that since he was going to die anyhow from a loathsome +disease, he might as well die at once and get it over with. Enlisting +without delay, he sought to reach an exposed position as rapidly as +he could. But the government had different ideas, and assigned him to +a branch of the service where his technical skill would prove useful. +In his disappointment, all the old feelings of inadequacy returned. +Interviewed by an officer he floundered and stumbled, neglecting +to report essential facts about his training and experience. The +accidental intervention of an acquaintance straightened out the matter, +and secured the authority to which his record entitled him. At first +he was very much embarrassed in the company of lumberjacks, but his +behavior never showed his confusion. His actual record was, as usual, +excellent, and his conscientious efficiency won the indorsement of +everybody who knew him. + +K married a rather dominating school-teacher whom he had known for some +time. When things went badly, as they often did, he was partially +impotent, and also showed the phenomenon which has been christened +“Sunday neurosis.” Every Sunday afternoon when he was at home he would +find himself assailed by deep depression, and would weep quietly to +himself.[43] In spite of these neurotic troubles, K was able to make +an important place for himself inside a bureaucracy, when he came back +from the army. + +From one point of view, K’s character may be summed up by saying that +his overscrupulous performance of duty was an elaborate effort to +demonstrate his potency, and that his longing for danger came at a +time when he was willing to surrender the struggle. K’s morbid moods +and persistent feelings of inadequacy are self-imposed penalties for +his hostilities against the environment. He possessed very powerful +aggressive drives which were partly expressed in the adoption of a +self-ideal which was far more ambitious than anything deemed feasible +by the family. His narcissism was such that he was prevented from +viewing himself as an object, and from modifying his demands upon the +world for recognition, and upon himself for production, until these +demands bore a closer relationship to his own skills and opportunities. +The basis for his obsessive scrupulousness was laid during early +childhood, when he was torn between father and mother-loyalties, and +acted out within his own nature the clashes that occurred between +them. His strong mother-identification is shown by his belief that he +suffered from her diseases, and would die from tuberculosis as she had +died. He preferred death to a reduction in his demands upon himself +and the world. Such a reaction has in it the primitive demand of the +child to treat the world as controllable at will by the omnipotent +fantasy. His genital difficulties testify to the intensity of the +castration conflict, and show the passive-oral regression. K deeply +resented having to adjust to the world at all. His capacity for hard +work was achieved against high resistance, and in part had the value of +a penance. Thus when workless days came around, he was always ill at +ease, and sometimes showed the spells of weeping on Sunday afternoons. +To work was to prove his potency, and to supply a ritual substitute +for and defense against his antisocial impulses. He was unable to +emancipate himself very far from the reactions of the people in his +immediate environment. + + * * * * * + +As a class the administrators differ from the agitators by the +displacement of their affects upon less remote and abstract objects. +In the case of one important group this failure to achieve abstract +objects is due to excessive preoccupation with specific individuals in +the family circle, and to the correlative difficulty of defining the +rôle of the self. Putting agitator A at one end of the scale, we may +place administrator K or H near the other. Agitator B was less able +to displace than A, as shown by the more personal character of the +reforms which interested him. K or H were so concerned about definite +people, and about their own failures in relation to many of them, that +emancipation was unattainable. + +As a hypothetical construction from these “marginal” cases, we may +suggest that another group of administrators is recruited from among +those who have passed smoothly through their developmental crises. They +have not overrepressed powerful hostilities, but either sublimated +these drives, or expressed them boldly in the intimate circle. They +display an impersonal interest in the task of organization itself, +and assert themselves with firmness, though not with overemphasis, +in professional and in intimate life. Their lack of interest in +abstractions is due to the fact that they have never needed them as +a means of dealing with their emotional problems. They can take or +leave general ideas without using them to arouse widespread affective +responses from the public. Tied neither to abstractions nor to +particular people, they are able to deal with both in a context of +human relations, impersonally conceived. Their affects flow freely; +they are not affectless, but affectively adjusted. Very original and +overdriving administrators seem to show a fundamental pattern which +coincides with that of the agitators; the differences in specific +development are principally due to the cultural patterns available for +identification at critical phases of growth. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +POLITICAL CONVICTIONS + + +Political prejudices, preferences, and creeds are often formulated in +highly rational form, but they are grown in highly irrational ways. +When they are seen against the developmental history of the person, +they take on meanings which are quite different from the phrases in +which they are put. + +To begin, almost at random, with L. He believes that the United States +ought to join the League of Nations and that our government ought to +lead the world toward conciliation and peace. He is a Republican in +party preference, and possesses well-rationalized judgments on a number +of public questions. It is for none of these reasons that his history +is of special value to the political scientist. What his intimate +history does disclose is an exact parallelism between his political +opinions and those of his father and mother, and, besides that, a +conscious anxiety on his part to conform to the parental pattern of +belief and occupation. He has a strange premonition that if he goes his +own way something terrible will happen. Thus L is not only a simple +conformer, but a compulsive conformer. + +He is the youngest of four children. The next older member was a +brother who was killed when L was eight and the brother was seventeen. +Since L was so much younger than the other children, he was at first +petted and spoiled. He slept around with all the members of the family, +but mostly with his mother. A cousin of his own age with whom he +visited provided the immediate point of departure for much exaggerated +sexual fantasy. The cousin initiated him into various sexual practices +when L was seven. He began very early to masturbate, and the habit +stayed with him as a problem until he was through college. A certain +masochistic element appeared when he got erections at an early age +upon being spanked by a girl playmate. He was sexually stimulated when +attending to the natural wants of small children. + +L developed his guilty fantasies about his sinful impulses until he +began to fear that grave retribution would be visited upon him or his +family on account of his secret crimes. It was at this time that his +brother, who was his favorite in the family next to the mother, was +killed while out on a boyish escapade. L was profoundly stirred by +this. His forebodings of disaster seemed to have direct confirmation, +and he soon developed whole congeries of compulsive rituals. + +When L went to the bathtub, he felt that something terrible would +happen to his family, and especially to his mother, unless he plunged +his head under water and held it there just as long as he had the +breath. He became afraid of taking a bath because of this compulsive +drive to duck his head under the water. Often in the bathroom he had +the same feeling that disaster could be prevented only if he succeeded +in drinking all the water that gushed out of a faucet. At night he +would be seized by the sudden conviction that he must bury his face in +the pillow and keep it there just as long as he possibly could without +suffocating. Once he swallowed a pin after long inner debate over the +efficacy of this measure. Several times he hung over the edge of the +roof on top of the house until he barely had strength enough to swing +back to safety on top of the porch. He felt that he could permit no one +to pass him on the street. Later he thought he must outstare people, +and calculated that if he kept staring until seven out of ten people +dropped their eyes, that all would be well. + +His mother was the central figure in L’s anxieties. He evolved quite +independently a theory which had been anticipated many centuries +before by some primitive people and philosophers. He believed that his +mother had a spirit which left her body the moment any member of the +family left her alone, and that this spirit was forced to undergo all +sorts of trials and tests. The spirit would always come back to his +mother’s body before any member of the family spoke to her. In some +magical fashion his own acts relieved the burden which was laid upon +his mother’s spirit. Even in adulthood, he found an occasional fantasy +which was reminiscent of the preoccupations of those years. Not long +ago he was floating on the water in a swimming pool and found himself +thinking that his mother could never hold her head under water as long +as he could hold his foot under water. + +With all his timidity, removal to a strange environment was a severe +trial. Just before high-school days his family moved to a new +community, and he never quite overcame his sense of strangeness. He +had always been a coward, shrinking from physical combat. One of his +first memories is of sitting on a curb with an older brother, who +suddenly proposed that he should fight the little brother of another +boy. L began to fight, but was overcome by fear and ran away. Later he +was the center of a small clique of children in his block, all of whom +were very much his junior. One of his group bragged about L’s physical +prowess to the leader of another group, but when the challenge was +issued L backed down. He was worried by his own timidity, but seemed +unable to do anything about it. + +He made a handful of friends in the new environment, but was on +intimate terms with no one. With one boy he was able to talk somewhat +freely about sexual fantasies, and L once proposed a sexual experiment +to a neighbor girl. When he was repulsed, his guilt was enormously +increased. + +About this time L began to think seriously of entering the ministry, +so that he might always think “pure” thoughts and do “pure” things. +When he went to college he at first roomed with boys from his high +school, but they talked so openly about sex that he felt the atmosphere +was deplorable and demoralizing. Before the month expired, he sought +a new room and went into a solitary retreat. During the first year of +his college life he was acutely religious and besought church services +regularly. He sought guidance from the sermons upon personal and +political questions. + +Having developed the idea that he must live up to the family ideal at +any price, L felt that he could never depart from the opinions and +customs of his parents. In politics he was a stout Republican, and +later, when in a religious mood, he heard his preacher espouse the +League. He felt that he ought to support the League, but was plunged +into a serious conflict, because he thought his parents were against +it. Greatly to his relief he discovered that his father and mother had +also been won over to the League by a preacher, and that his lapse from +orthodox Republicanism would not bring dishonor on the family. + +His father-hatred fantasies were very oppressive. They took the form +of believing that if only his father were dead, his mother would have +a much easier time of it. L’s father was suffering from a steadily +advancing paralysis. At nine he dreamed that his father was in the +bathtub and that around him were fat, red snakes that were bound to +devour him. L who was standing by in the dream, awoke in a fright. He +often dreamed that his father was away and that his mother was happy +with him. + +L still shows many signs of his early neurosis in some of his +ceremonial acts, and in the timid conservatism of his character. The +private meaning of his political convictions is clear enough, for +they are self-imposed obligations to lift his load of guilt for the +murderous and incestuous fantasies which he long struggled to repress. +The opinions of the family were sanctioned as a kind of religion. It is +interesting to see how at first he invented a large array of ceremonial +practices to substitute for his own illicit impulses, and later worked +off his guilt feelings through the religious patterns which were +provided by society, and which were revalidated on the basis of his +private meanings. The acceptance of the political convictions of the +family was on a par with the acceptance of theological dogma. + +Among the nonconformists to the family pattern we may choose M, whose +history was taken by Stekel. M was a prominent socialist who agitated +for an economic brotherhood of man, and whose most important private +motive in this particular was a bitter hatred of his own brother. +Most of this hatred was displaced from his brother on to capitalistic +autocracy, and overreacted against by a social ideal of fraternal +equality. His hatred of his own brother was not entirely disposed of by +this displacement, and it was necessary to keep at a distance from him, +and from many of his traits. Thus M despised music because his brother +liked it, followed a style of dress at the opposite pole from his +brother, and nearly walked out on the physician when he discovered that +the physician had treated his own brother. + +M spent the years agitating at home and abroad, spending a year and a +half in prison. Thus he succeeded in gratifying his masochistic desire +to be punished for his hatred by provoking society to avenge itself +on him. The motivation in this personality is notably similar to that +which has been more elaborately sketched in the history of A. + +Another nonconformist appears in the history of an anarchist who was +once a patient of Stekel. N carried his social doctrine beyond the +sharing of property, insisting that wives should be in common. He took +the initiative by urging his wife to cohabit with the male members +of his anarchistic society, while he demanded access to the wives of +others. His own wife finally fell in love with another man, and asked +N for a divorce. But before arrangements could be made, she became +pregnant by her new partner, who was poor, and asked N to acknowledge +the new child as his own, since this child would fall heir to some +money from its supposed grandfather, the father of N. He consented +to this, as he had to the divorce, but his self-esteem was hurt by +his wife’s desertion. He had always felt elated when his wife came +back to him after each of her erotic adventures, and now he was all +broken up. Stekel believes that N’s espousal of communal principles in +theory and practice was powerfully motivated by an irrational desire +to humiliate his father by playing a generous rôle with his sexual +partner, and substituting the morality of generosity for his father’s +possessive monopoly of the mother. When his wife-mother deserted +him, N’s brilliant career was ruined, and he resorted to opium, and +finally secured a revenge on his father by blocking his ambitions for a +successful son. + +A father-hatred (due to unrequited love) of remarkable intensity was +the basis of another career which Stekel examined. O was the young +leader of an anarchist band whose anarchism went beyond precept to +dramatic practice. O had his companions conduct some holdups to get +money to start an anarchist paper. O was an illegitimate child who was +brought up and spoiled by an overindulgent mother. When he realized +that he had a father who was still living, but whose identity was never +divulged, his anger boiled up against his mother upon whose affections +he no longer had monopolistic claim, and against his unknown father, +who refused him love and distinction. For he had no doubt that his +father was a rich and important personage. O displaced much of his +animosity on to remote, abstract symbols of authority, like kings +and capitalists, and devoted himself to destroying them. Much of his +affection was likewise displaced upon abstract ideals of a fatherless +fraternal society, living together without coercion. His sadistic +impulses were by no means entirely sublimated upon remote goals and +harmonious means, for he led his companions on common robberies. O +threw a thick mantle of rationalization over his murderous impulses +and his criminal acts, seeking to justify coercion in the name of a +coercionless ideal which could only be laboriously achieved in the +world. + +It is the history of such cases, in which the emotions are peculiarly +intense, which leads one to conclude that political assassins have +hated their fathers with unusual bitterness. E. J. Kempf remarks in his +psychopathology, after reviewing the historical evidence in the cases +of Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, and of Booth, the +assassin of President Lincoln, as follows: + + The writer does not hold that every case of severe affective + repression in youth, due to the father’s hatred or a father + equivalent’s, will lead finally to a parricidal or treasonable + compulsion. It is only held that such affective repressions produce + a revolutionary character which, if given an appropriate repressive + setting during maturity, will then converge upon the parricidal + act. Without the rather specific type of affective repression in + his youth, he would be invulnerable to parricidal suggestions later + on.[44] + +Illegitimate children, especially when the identity of their father is +undisclosed, carry with them the perpetual query, “Who is my father?” +Indeed, the fantasy of belonging to other parents than those physically +in the family is sufficiently widespread as a disguised hostile reverie +against the actual parents to enable everyone to appreciate in some +measure the mental state of the illegitimate child. “My father may be +rich and powerful.” “My father may be an aristocrat of distinguished +lineage, and he is denying me all my just privileges.” Such fantasies +are taken up and spun out in the reveries of the victim. There is a +presumption that those who suffer from this kind of social inferiority +are especially numerous among those who commit acts of political +violence, as Lombroso held. + +P accepted violence, but of a different kind. P is a patriot who proved +his patriotism by volunteering in the late war during the course of +which he was distinguished for bravery in action. His deepest longing +is for war to come again. He is in favor of an aggressive foreign +policy since it increases the chances of war, and war he would welcome +again as he welcomed it before. + +P has a younger brother and an older sister. His mother died when he +was six and his relations have been strained with his stepmother, who +entered the family shortly afterward. His father was a very successful +professional man. + +P began to fall behind in his schoolwork when he was about seven +years old. This brought him into disrepute at home, for his previous +promise led everyone to expect much from him, and the change seemed +to prove that he was “lazy.” The family has nagged him ever after, +hoping to stimulate him to work harder. Just why he failed to continue +to cope successfully with the demands of school becomes fairly clear +when his reminiscences of the period are recovered. He had loved his +second-grade teacher and had been her special favorite, and both his +marks and his enthusiasm were high. The third-grade teacher impressed +him as stern and cruel, and he soon began to despise the sight of her. +The boy’s work began to crumble, for his mind was full of hostile +fancies about his new teacher, and of yearning fancies for the teacher +whom he had just lost. + +His emotional life was further disturbed about this time by the loss +of his nurse. P’s stepmother discharged her as soon as she came. Now +the nurse was the lad’s main love, for his own mother had been ill +for some years before her death. The nurse’s presence gave the child +that stable reassurance which is so necessary if the mind of the child +is to be kept free from morbid fears. In P’s case, there were strong +reasons why this reassurance was necessary. An insane man lived across +the street and terrified the passers-by by screaming at everyone who +passed. Shortly after his mother’s death P went under ether for a minor +operation and was terrified that he would die. The fear of suffocation +reappeared in dreams and nightmares, and he was very timid about +learning to swim. + +The stepmother was a disturbing element as a strange and unknown +quantity in the environment, and a competitor for the affection of the +father. When she discharged the nurse, P thought of her as a malignant +influence. His troubles at school were exaggerated by his home changes, +and his mind became preoccupied with fantasies directed against his +stepmother, or some substitute. + +P’s father was ambitious for the boy. P remembers him as quick to +reprove and slow to praise. He dreamed of his father’s death, and of +seeing his father in an accident. But his manifest attitude was one of +respectful affection. No matter what happened in the home, he excused +his father by reflecting that the stepmother was to blame. However, on +the deeper level, it appeared that he held his father accountable for +the death of his mother and the disappearance of his nurse. + +At school P was popular because of his good physique and his docile +nature. But his studies came hard. Having failed on college-entrance +tests, P bolted and joined the army. The war came along just in time +to give him a dignified retreat from an unbearable personal situation. +He hoped that his father would think about him with pride. He was +bitterly self-accusatory because of his failure to “make good,” and +felt a strong unconscious need of punishment. Under these conditions he +entered army life with enthusiasm, and made a fine record for personal +courage. + +Once the war was over, his troubles began again. He succeeded in +entering college, but college felt like a nursery. He felt that his +army experience sophisticated him above schoolboy tasks and chatter. +All his old worries returned, complicated by his longing for a new war. +He had a long series of difficulties in his occupational life. + +Seen against this background, his militarism is perfectly intelligible. +War gave him a chance to destroy, wildly and extensively, and also a +chance to work off his guilt feelings by exposing himself to death. His +repressed hatreds were partly turned against himself. An interesting +feature of his ideology is that his longing for personal participation +in war is combined with indignation against the exploitation of +backward peoples by the imperialist powers. He identifies with the +“underdog.” + +Q, a contrast to P, is a pacifist and a socialist. His intimate history +shows that relatively simple association of ideas upon which this +depends. From an early age Q showed a morbid fear of blood. Later +on, when he heard that western capitalism meant war and bloodshed, +he experienced a profound emotional revulsion against “capitalism,” +“imperialism,” and their associated concepts, and called himself a +“socialist,” “pacifist,” and “internationalist.” + +The blood-phobia itself was a powerful factor in developing his +character. By slow degrees, he was able to push the screened memories +back until he recovered a simple incident which was heavily ladened +with affect, and whose recollection disposed of the blood-phobia, even +though it was not completely analyzed. Q’s father was accustomed to +shave in the kitchen on Saturday afternoon, and Q as a small child +took a great interest in the proceedings. Occasionally the father cut +a pimple on his face with the big razor he was using, and flinched as +the blood spurted out. He immediately swabbed the cut, and presumably +forgot it. But Q did not forget so quickly. He found himself much +engaged in speculating about it, drawing the inference that all the +reddish projections on the body are full of blood, that, indeed, the +body is a reservoir of blood; and that the reddish formations are in +danger of being punctured, so the blood will spurt out and run off. + +Q had previously seen his father naked in the bathtub, and he thought +that his father had rubbed soap over his nipples with the palm of his +hand and not with the fingers, from which he concluded that the nipples +must be especially tender, and whenever he washed himself, Q carefully +avoided his own nipples and massaged them most delicately with the palm +of his hand. + +His brother had the habit of biting his finger nails until the blood +came, and the family reproached him for it, prophesying that all sorts +of infections might set in. Q began to expect that something disastrous +would happen, and he was not altogether averse to having it happen +because of his jealousy of the brother. But it came with a great shock +when his brother did actually develop an infection, thus confirming his +own suspicions about the necessity for stopping outflows of blood. + +About this time Q was playing with his older sister, and in the course +of a scuffle his hand slid down his sister’s body and over her breast. +Q distinctly felt a nipple catch for a moment beneath his fingers, and +he was instantly terrified for fear that his sister would bleed to +death. The breasts, he thought, must be partly filled reservoirs of +blood, since they were soft and yielding. + +During his fourth year Q’s grandmother died, and he was horrified to +think of what would happen to one he loved. He had seen a photograph of +a reclining nude with a beatific smile and the caption “Death” beneath. +From this he surmised that people were undressed when they died, and +lowered naked into the ground. But he had seen worms in the ground, +and the worms would attack the body. Since the nipples were prominent +and therefore easy to reach, the nipples would be eaten through first. +He shuddered to think of the worms gnawing away at his grandmother’s +nipples, and sometimes woke up in a fright, having dreamed that the +worms were biting off his own nipples. + +Once Q came running into his aunt’s house and discovered a small infant +cousin nursing at the breast. His aunt hastily readjusted her dress. +Because of the care with which the breasts were guarded from exposure +by his mother, sister, and aunt, he leaped to the conclusion that they +had something to do with the secret relations of men and women. + +He had all sorts of trouble trying to figure out how these relations +were conducted, but when he was about eight he originated a theory that +temporarily solved the problem. Q figured that a man and woman must lie +on the bed with their faces close together. The male would then squeeze +the breasts, alternately pressing and releasing them, as if they were +balloons. Then they turned over and rubbed their anuses together. Not +long after, he completed his theory of procreation by imagining that +children must be born through a hole in the stomach from which the +blood gushed copiously. The cutting must be very painful and bloody. + +Haunted by the fearful prospect of a world which might at any time +knock a hole in his body and deprive him of blood, Q was a bundle of +excessive timidities. He was afraid of his grandmother’s cat, he ran +to his mother if he saw a dog, and he was afraid that a horse would +bite off his hand if he fed it. He hated to watch a ball game for fear +a foul tip would hit him, and he avoided bugs, worms, and lizards +like the plague. Q never put up a fight outside the house, and cried +when the other boys of the neighborhood bullied him. Sometimes he was +taunted as a Jew but he never fought back, much to the disgust of his +father. His forebodings spread to thunder, lightning, fire, redness, +and numerous articles of food. + +In marked contrast to his cringing demeanor abroad was his attitude +toward the older brother, ten years his senior. Time after time he +would pick a quarrel and pummel the older youth, until the brother +tired of the situation and gave him a sharp blow. Thereupon he went +to someone for comfort. Q’s father felt that the older boy might be a +little rough, but that the little fellow had something coming to him. +The mother was uniformly comforting, although she reproved both boys +for not behaving as brothers should. + +The boys were profoundly hostile to each other, although usually +cordial. The older brother made himself conspicuous for his tenderness +during a serious illness of Q, running errands with alacrity, and +watching constantly by the bedside. When it became clear that Q would +live, the older boy’s devotion stopped abruptly, indicating the +unconscious basis of the exaggerated reaction. He was overreacting +against a death wish against his brother as an intruder between him and +the mother. + +Q envied the achievements of his older brother, and often compared +himself unfavorably with him. The older boy not only stood at the +head of his classes, but earned his way by playing the violin. +Although Q stayed at the head of his classes, he was by no means as +self-supporting as his brother. The brother-hatred appeared in such +dreams as: + + _Dream 1._--My brother is getting married. He is in a dress suit. A + long line of young men in dress suits are coming up to congratulate + him. As the first one reaches out his hand, he falls backward and + all the others fall over one another like tenpins. + + _Dream 2._--My brother and I are walking down the street near + home. I hear a scream. An Italian is chasing a woman with a baby + who seeks refuge in a store. The Italian knocks her down. Then my + brother goes into the store and tries to deal with the Italian, but + is knocked down. I enter and knock down the Italian. + +The brother-jealousy is of secondary significance in Q’s history. The +crux of the blood-phobia was a critical experience whose traumatic +effects were due to the strength of the affects which were mobilized +and repressed. Q slept with his father, and the blood-letting incident +aroused his slumbering desire for the death of his father and his own +active fear of suffering mutilation (castration). Blood derived its +significance because it involved a reinstatement of the most acute +phase of the conflict. To escape from it, Q fainted unless he succeeded +in getting out of the sight of blood at once. It is noteworthy that +Q did not at once faint when the razor cut the pimple; it was not +until the elaboration of the fantasy had continued, and the affects +had become greatly concentrated, that the blood came to signalize +an instant and overwhelming emergency from which a kind of suicide +(fainting) was the only escape. + +The following terse dream expresses something of the underlying +situation: + + _Dream 3._--I am looking down a city street which is covered with + snow and lighted by street lights. The President of the United + States is walking along the street and suddenly slips and falls. My + attention is then called to a place farther down the street where + two tumblers are leaping over a rope stretched across the street. + They are leaping backward and forward with a curious mechanical + motion. + +The rhythmic leaping is a pictorial symbol for the pulsations of +genital excitement. The President is an authority substitute for the +father. When the father is out of the way, genital activity will become +safe. Since the father prescribes sexual abstinence (abstinence from +handling the genitals), this expresses a desire to give greater freedom +to the repressed impulses of the subject’s character. The repressed +positive identification with the brother shows itself in opposing two +tumblers instead of one to the father. + + _Dream 4._--A goose or ducklike creature is being chased back and + forth across the road by two dogs. The creature has a red bill + and head, a blue back and wing feathers, and a white breast. The + white, fuzzy dogs chase the animal back and forth but do not reach + it because of their overanxiety. After two round-trips the animal, + which moved with a curiously mechanical motion, runs toward a man + who has come to the door and jumps between his legs. The man is + middle-aged and his hair is white. He is in white pajamas. He says, + “My leg is the leg of weakness; my health is hell....” I am in a + winter coat standing outside the house of a friend of my sister’s + in whom I remember having had a mild interest, but which led to + nothing since she was older than I, and not very attractive. I had + just delivered a valentine. The scene is illuminated by a street + light, and is especially clear because snow is on the ground. The + man in the picture is unknown. + +The odd creature with the red bill and head symbolizes the penis. The +two dogs (brothers) try to capture it, but the father protects it. +However, the hope of achieving masculinity is not wholly dashed because +the old man is growing weaker. + +For some time the productions of Q showed that sexuality was powerfully +linked with death, and that the death was to be his own rather than +that of his father, or simultaneously with the death of his father. +As the castration anxiety lifted, the blood fear abated, and dreams, +word-associations, posture, and other significant reactions altered +toward greater ease and assertiveness. + +We have seen that well-rationalized theories and preferences are not +alien fungi on the personality, but an important expression of the +essential trends of the personality. Thus theories are at least as +indicative of the individual who espouses them as of the ostensible +subjects of speculation. Pessimism, for example, is common in old age, +when the sexual powers decline and the individual projects upon the +world the sinfulness which he feels for wanting to indulge beyond his +powers, and defy his inadequacy. The mechanism of this sort of thing +stands out most clearly in extreme cases, such as R. R believed that +the world was going from bad to worse and that wars and rumors of wars +were devastating the earth. He spent so many hours over a plan to +secure the peace of the world forevermore that he developed a confusion +state. He would go out in a park, find a secluded spot and weep over +the troubles of the world as Jesus wept over Jerusalem. One day in +passing a market he saw some chickens in a coop without any water. +The cruelty of this was more than he could bear, so he went home and +went to bed. His ideas were that he had been chosen to work out the +salvation of the world, and that he had been endowed with unusual, +indeed supernatural, understanding of men’s motives, and special power +to heal insanity. + +R elaborated a private form of religion. He said that he was worshiping +the sun as God, as a symbol of Christ and truth (actually, of masculine +virility). When it became necessary for him to commune with his spirit, +he was in the habit of facing the sun and repeating a litany of his +invention, which ran: + + To the sun, the heart of the world! It warmeth the earth with its + loveliness. Glory to God! It riseth in the east, lighting the dark + corners of ignorance and wickedness. Glory to God! It chaseth the + darkness before it like the host of Syria before the children of + Israel. Glory to God! It chaseth the darkness before it like the + host of Syria before the children of Israel. Glory to God! etc., + etc. + +He began to chant, and then assumed an exalted, heroic pose, with his +arms and head thrown back. Presently he felt that a big storm was +coming that would ruin the world. The world is like a giant serpent, a +serpent asleep. + +R’s story is not sufficiently detailed to show much about the +development of those reaction patterns which disposed him to meet +old age in such a way. He was the only child of a poverty-stricken +family who played by himself and got on well with his books. Some +local lawyers took an interest in him and helped him through school. +He read law and was admitted to the bar. After making a precarious +living for a number of years, he was elected to various local offices, +and then to Congress. He was reputed to be an impractical dreamer, and +enjoyed making rather fanciful speeches. His legislative career as +recorded in the _Congressional Record_ was undistinguished, containing +the usual quota of pension bills and “extensions of remarks” during +tariff debates. He was opposed to the annexation of the Philippines, +and hostile to imperialism; in this he went along with his party, and +likewise indulged a personal conviction. He practiced law desultorily, +after having been defeated for the legislature, and devoted himself to +study and writing. His one published volume is a vague disquisition on +human affairs, which accurately reflects the indeterminate, rhetorical, +and meliorative quality of his thinking. He married a woman of his own +age when he was a young man. There were no children. + +When the paranoid rather than the manic-depressive strain runs through +the character, nebulous and all-embracing pessimism about the world +is sharpened to specific accusations. Everyone who is prominent in +public life is a potential object of such attacks. One might hazard +the conjecture that the importance of an individual in the community’s +estimation may be measured by the number of “crank” letters to him and +about him. One such crank, S, wrote a trunkful of letters accusing +public men of graft, of being dominated by “Big Biz,” and offering +suggestions to government officials. He complained of being persecuted +and victimized by prominent people, especially by Harry F. Sinclair, +the oil man. This was attributed by him to the fact that he had written +a letter to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court calling His Honor’s +attention to the Teapot Dome scandal which was being ventilated in the +press, and naming Mr. Sinclair as the responsible party. Since then Mr. +Sinclair had prevented him from getting a job, and paid his own sister +to throw him out on the street. During his divorce proceedings he +wrote to the American Bar Association to protest against the “shyster +lawyers” who were representing his wife, and claims that Mr. Taft and +Mr. Root answered him in the papers the following day. When Mr. John +W. Davis was a presidential candidate he wrote to him, describing the +various attacks to which he, S, had been subjected. Mr. Davis neglected +to reply and did nothing about it, so S prevented his election, and +feels that Mr. Coolidge owes him something for being elected. “I wrote +to Hearst and I believe that turned the trick.” In this letter he +divulged the fact that Mr. Davis was connected with Wall Street, and +this hint was enough to arouse Mr. Hearst. In reply to the routine +question, “What is going on in the world?” he answered, “More deviltry +than there ever was before.” + +Unfortunately the history is too meager to explain S’s development, +except by analogy with others who have displayed the same behavior. +Certainly his life-story would, if accessible, reveal the effects of a +disorganizing family environment. We do know that his father was drunk +much of the time, and that the children had an unhappy lot. At five S +went to live with his grandparents who wanted to take him away from +his drunken father. At about fifteen he came back for a while. Shortly +afterward he saved his sister from being strangled to death by their +father, who in a drunken tantrum had her by the neck against the wall. +S became a good mechanic, but disintegrated in later life. + +Another “crank” devised an ingenious theory to explain President +Wilson’s conduct. T says that he discovered that Mr. Wilson was not +a citizen of the United States. He first made this revelation on his +draft questionnaire, and when this became generally known, Mr. Wilson +went to France to escape the anger of the enraged citizenry of the +United States; later Mr. Wilson fell ill of a guilty conscience at new +revelations that he made. Mr. Wilson was part of the Masonic conspiracy +which had been hatched against him when he was very young. T’s +stepfather, who was a Shriner, probably furnishes the material for this +delusion. As for T himself, he believed that he descended directly from +Mary, Queen of Scots, and that he had foreknowledge of the approaching +end of the world. The members of the millennium are “a creed and not a +denomination,” and only twenty million people will be saved, over whom +T will rule. + + * * * * * + +From the excerpts included, it appears that the significance of +political opinions is not to be grasped apart from the private +motives which they symbolize. The degree of insight into objective +relationships is one thing; the extent to which “private meanings” are +accreted to the “public” or “manifest” meanings is another. When we +see the private meaning of public acts, the problem of interpreting +the full significance of political behavior presses itself upon our +attention. Are there any implications for the general theory of +the political process which follow from the intensive scrutiny of +individual subjective (and objective) histories? This is the question +to which we next turn. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE POLITICS OF PREVENTION + + +Political movements derive their vitality from the displacement of +private affects upon public objects. The intensive scrutiny of the +individual by psychopathological methods discloses the prime importance +of hitherto-neglected motives in the determination of political traits +and beliefs. The adult who is studied at any given cross-section of +his career is the product of a long and gradual development in the +course of which many of his motivations fail to modify according to the +demands of unfolding reality. The adult is left with an impulse life +which is but partially integrated to adulthood. Primitive psychological +structures continue in more or less disguised form to control his +thought and effort. + +The state is a symbol of authority, and as such is the legatee of +attitudes which have been organized in the life of the individual +within the intimate interpersonal sphere of the home and friendship +group. At one phase of childhood development the wisdom and might of +the physical symbol of authority, typically the father, is enormously +exaggerated by the child. Eder traces the significance of this for the +state in the following words: + + What occurs as we come more in touch with the external world, when + the principle of reality develops, is the finding of surrogates for + this ideal father. We discover that the parent is not all-wise, + all-powerful, all-good, but we still need to find persons or + abstractions upon which we can distribute these and similar + attributes. By a process of fission these feelings are displaced + on to and may be distributed among a number of surrogates. The + surrogates may be persons, animals, things or abstract ideas; the + headmaster, the dog, the rabbit, the Empire, the Aryan race, or any + particular “ism.” + +He comments that it is upon this self-ideal that is formed the +possibility of leadership, of leaders, and of the supreme leader, +who is the one capable of doing all that the child once thought the +physical father could do. The unconscious motivation is reflected in +the sober formula of Blackstone, “The sovereign is not only incapable +of doing wrong, but even of thinking wrong: he can never mean to do an +improper thing; in him is no folly or weakness.”[45] + +There is very deep meaning in the phrase of Paley’s that “a family +contains the rudiments of an empire.” The family experience organizes +very powerful drives in successive levels of integration, and these +primitive attitudes are often called into play as the unobserved +partners of rational reactions. To choose another extract from Eder: + + The behaviour of the elected or representative politician betrays + many characteristics derived from the family. For example, during + the time I filled a political job in Palestine I noticed in myself + (and in my colleagues) the satisfaction it gave me to have secret + information, knowledge which must on no account be imparted to + others. Of course good reasons were always to be found: the people + would misuse the information or it would depress them unduly + and so on--pretty exactly the parent’s attitude about imparting + information, especially of a sexual nature, to the children.... + + At the back of secret diplomacy, and indeed the whole relationship + of the official to the non-official, there rests this father-child + affect. This also serves to explain the passion aroused in former + days by any proposed extension of the franchise. + +In the sphere of political dogma, unconscious conflicts play the same +rôle which Theodor Reik discussed when he drew a parallel between +religious dogma and obsessive ideas.[46] Dogma is a defensive reaction +against doubt in the mind of the theorist, but of doubt of which he is +unaware. The unconscious hatred of authority discloses itself in the +endless capacity of the theorist to imagine new reasons for disbelief, +and in his capacity to labor over trivialities, and to reduce his whole +intellectual scheme to a logical absurdity. Sometimes this appears in a +cryptic formula to which some sort of mysterious potency is ascribed, +but which is hopelessly contradictory in so far as it possesses +any manifest meaning. The celebrated doctrine of the unity of the +trinity is an instance of such culminating nonsense. Words lose their +rational reference points and become packed with unconscious symbolism +of the ambivalent variety. The description of sovereignty found in +Blackstone refers to nothing palpable, and functions principally as an +incantation. Much solemn juridical speculation, since so much of it is +elaborated by obsessive thinkers, ends thus. Deep doubts about the self +are displaced on to doubts about the world outside, and these doubts +are sought to be allayed by ostentatious preoccupation with truth. + +Defiance of authority is defiance of the introjected conscience, and +involves a measure of self-punishment. We have seen how a powerful need +for self-punishment is the stuff out of which martyrs and sensational +failures are made; but of more general importance is the rôle of +the sense of guilt in supporting the _status quo_. Deviation from +accepted patterns becomes equivalent to sin, and the conscience visits +discomforts upon those who dare to innovate. Radical ideas become +“sacrilegious” and “disloyal” in the view of the primitive conscience, +for they tend to represent more than a limited defiance of authority. +They put the whole structure of the personality under strain. The +childish conscience is easily intimidated into preserving order on +slight provocation; it knows little of the capacity to consider the +piecemeal reconstruction of values. “Radicalism” is felt as a challenge +to the whole system of resistances which are binding down the illicit +impulses of the personality, rather than as an opportunity for detached +consideration of the relation of the self to the rest of reality. There +is little boldness in political thinking which is not accompanied by an +overdose of defiance, for even those who succeed in breaking through +the intimidations of their infantile consciences must often succumb in +some measure and “pay out.” Much of the struggle, the fearful _Sturm +und Drang_ of the emancipated thinker, is his unconscious tribute to +the exactions of the tribunal which he erected within himself at an +early age, and which continues to treat innovation as _ipso facto_ +dangerous. The non-obsessive thinker is one who can coolly contemplate +revisions in the relations of man to reality unperturbed by his +antiquated conscience. Often readjustments of human affairs which are +proposed are driven to absurdity because the original mind is compelled +to transform his mere departure from the conventional into a defiance +of conventionality. When one perceives the operation of this powerful +self-punishment drive, and the secondary efforts to free one’s self +from feelings of guilt for defying the authorized order, it is possible +to remain understandingly tolerant of the eccentricities of creative +minds. To put the point a bit sharply, it is safe to say that the +adult mind is only partly adult; the conscience may be four years old. +The conscience, the introjected nursemaid, reacts undiscriminatingly to +change, and construes it as rebellion. + +The organization of motives which occurs in adolescence possesses +direct significance for the interpretation of political interests. + +The physical and mental storm of puberty and adolescence often +culminates in the displacement of loves upon all humanity or a +selected part of it, and in acts of devotion to the whole. It is here +that the fundamental processes of loyalty are most clearly evident +as they relate to public life. S. Bernfeld has written extensively +on the psychology of the German youth movement. He comments on the +very different lengths of puberty, and distinguishes between the +physical and the psychological processes. When the psychological +processes outlive the physical ones, certain characteristic reaction +types arise. Dr. Bernfeld believes that the discrepant type prevails +most characteristically in the youth movement, and he enumerates its +characteristics. The interests of this group are turned toward “ideal” +objects like politics, humanity, and art. The relation to these objects +is productive, since the youth tries to produce a new form of politics +or art. There is always a great deal of self-confidence present, or +many symptoms of a repression that has failed. This is expressed in +the high opinion of one’s self and the low opinion one holds of his +companions. An outstanding individual, the friend or master, is loved +and revered. Often this love for a friend is extended to the whole +group. The sexual components of the personality do not concentrate on +finding objects, but in creating a new narcissistic situation. Bernfeld +distinguishes this secondary narcissism from infantile narcissism on +the ground that it is accompanied by deep depression reminiscent of +melancholia. The reason lies in the formation of an ideal self that +attracts a great part of the libido and enters into contrast with the +real ego, a process which is particularly characteristic of the complex +or discrepant type which he found in the youth movement.[47] + +Political life seems to sublimate many homosexual trends. Politicians +characteristically work together in little cliques and clubs, and many +of them show marked difficulties in reaching a stable heterosexual +adjustment. In military life, when men are thrown together under +intimate conditions, the sublimations often break down and the +homosexual drives find direct expression. A German general has gone so +far as to declare that one reason why Germany lost the war was that +the command was shot through with jealousies growing out of homosexual +rivalry. Dr. K. G. Heimsoth has prepared a manuscript describing the +rôle of homosexuality in the volunteer forces which continued to +operate against the Poles and the communists after the war. In the case +of certain leaders, at least, the reputation for overt homosexuality +was no handicap; indeed, the reverse seemed to be true. Franz Alexander +has suggested that one reason why homosexuality is viewed with contempt +in modern life is the vague sense that complex cultural achievement +depends on an inhibited sexuality, and that direct gratification +tends to dissolve society into self-satisfied pairs and cliques. The +observations of Heimsoth throw some doubt on the wisdom of this “vague +sense.”[48] The prominence of alcoholism and promiscuity among like-sex +groups has often been observed, and both indulgences appear to be +closely connected with homosexual impulses.[49] + +Political crises are complicated by the concurrent reactivation +of specific primitive impulses. War is the classical situation in +which the elementary psychological structures are no longer held in +subordination to complex reactions. The acts of cruelty and lust which +are inseparably connected with war have disclosed vividly to all who +care to see the narrow margin which separates the social from the +asocial nature of man. The excesses of heroism and abnegation are alike +primitive in their manifestations, and show that all the primitive +psychological structures are not antisocial, but asocial, and may often +function on behalf of human solidarity.[50] + +Why does society become demoralized in the process of revolution? Why +should a change in the political procedures of the community unleash +such excesses in behavior? Reflection might lead one to suppose +that since important decisions are in process of being made, calm +deliberation would characterize society. Evidently a reactivating +process is at work here; there is a regressive tendency to reawaken +primitive sadism and lust. The conspicuous disproportionality between +the problem and the behavior necessitates an explanation in such +terms. Federn published a sketch of the psychology of revolution in +his pamphlet _Die vaterlose Gesellschaft_ in 1919. When the ruler +falls, the unconscious triumphantly interprets this as a release from +all constraint, and the individuals in the community who possess the +least solidified personality structures are compulsively driven to acts +of theft and violence. An interview which Federn gave to Edgar Ansel +Mowrer in 1927 on the occasion of the Vienna riots reviews in somewhat +popular form some of his conceptions. + + Vienna, Austria, July 20.--“Distrust of father was the chief + cause of the Vienna riot,” said Paul Federn, onetime president of + the Psychoanalytical Society. From a psychoanalytical standpoint + all authority is the father, and this formerly for Austria was + incorporated in the imposing figure of Emperor Franz Josef. But + during the war the father deceived and maltreated his children, and + only the material preoccupations of life and the joyous outburst + when at the close of the war the old authority broke asunder + prevented Austria from having a revolution then. + + The state again built up the old ruling caste and began to hope for + restoration, and therefore an abyss opened between Vienna, which + under socialist leadership is trying to replace the traditional + father principle by a new brotherhood, and the Austrian federal + state, which had returned to a modified father idea. Trust in + father is the child’s deepest instinct. Vienna first respected the + Austrian republic, but gradually this belief was undermined by the + continual misery, by newspapers preaching fanaticism and by legal + decisions which virtually destroyed the people’s belief in the new + father’s justice. + + Accordingly there occurred a spontaneous manifestation which + unconsciously drove the disillusioned and furious children to + destroy precisely those things on which the paternal authority + seems to rest--namely, records and legal documents. + + Why the peaceful Viennese should suddenly be transformed + temporarily into mad beasts is also clear to the psychoanalysts. + Had the police offered no resistance the crowd would soon have + dispersed and no harm would have been done. But once the police + fired blood flowed and the mob reacted savagely, responding to + the ancient fear of castration by the father which is present in + all of us unconsciously in the face of the punishing authority. + Therefore, fear grew along with the violence, each increase leading + to new violence and greater fear, as appeasement can only follow a + complete outbreak and as the inhabitants were widely scattered in + their houses it took three days before the last hatred could fully + get out. + + One further point can only be explained by psychoanalysis. The + social democratic leaders are at heart revolutionary, but they + did not wish this demonstration. They realized that revolution in + little Austria today would be suicidal, and, therefore, at a given + moment called out the republican guard with orders to interfere and + prevent violence. The guard arrived much too late. + + Why did not the leaders send out the guard at 6 a.m. when they knew + the demonstration was beginning? They say they “forgot.” This is + _a flagrant_ example of unconscious forgetfulness. The socialists + forgot to take the only step which could have prevented something + which they consciously disapproved, but unconsciously desired. + + The Vienna riots were in the deepest sense a family row.[51] + +Eder speculates about the unconscious factors in the well-known +tendency of certain political alternatives to succeed one another in +crude pendulum fashion. + + I think it was Mr. Zangwill who once said that it is a principle + of the British Constitution that the King can do no wrong and his + ministers no right. That is to say, the ambivalency originally + experienced toward the father is now split; the sentiment of + disloyalty, etc., is displaced on to the King’s ministers, or + on to some of them, or on to the opposition.... Modern society + has discovered the principle of election, and the vote to + give expression to the hostile feelings toward their rulers. + Psychoanalytically an election may be regarded as the sublimation + of regicide (primary parricide) with the object of placing oneself + on the throne; the vote is like a repeating decimal; the father + is killed but never dies. The ministers are our substitutes for + ourselves. Hence the political maxim of the swing of the pendulum. + +Alexander and Staub have undertaken to explain the unconscious basis +of the crisis which is produced in the community when criminals are +permitted to go with no punishment or with light punishment. The study +of personality genesis shows that the sublimation of primitive impulses +is possible on the basis of a kind of primitive “social contract.” The +individual foregoes direct indulgences (which have the disadvantage +of bringing him into conflict with authority), and substitutes more +complex patterns of behavior on the tacit understanding that love and +safety will thereby be insured. When another individual breaks over +and gratifies his illicit impulses directly on a primitive level, the +equilibrium of every personality is threatened. The conscious self +perceives that it is possible to “get by,” and this threatens the +whole structure of sublimation. The superego tries to maintain order +by directing energy against the ego, perhaps subjecting it to “pricks +of conscience,” for so much as entertaining the possibility of illicit +gratification, and seeks to turn the ego toward activities which reduce +temptation. This may involve the reconstruction of the environment +by seeking to eliminate the “non-ideal” elements in it, and may be +exemplified in the panicky demand for the annihilation of the outsider +(who is a criminal) for the sake of keeping the chains on the insider +(who is a criminal). Every criminal is a threat to the whole social +order since he reinstates with more or less success an acute conflict +within the lives of all members of society. The success of the superego +depends upon imposing certain ways of interpreting reality upon the +self. When reality grossly refuses to conform to the “ideal,” the +energies of the self are divided, and an acute crisis supervenes. The +superego undertakes to reinforce its side of the contradictory ego +trends by punishing the ego, and by forcing the projection of this +situation upon the outer world. Certain aspects of the outer world +become “bad” because they are connected in private experience with the +pangs inflicted by the taskmaster within, the conscience. A strong +conscience may enforce this “distortion” of reality upon the self +to such a degree that the self acts on quite fantastic assumptions +about reality. These are most acutely manifested in such phenomena as +confusion states, hallucinations, and delusions, all of which are forms +of deformed reality. When reality becomes “ominous,” violent efforts to +change may appear futile, and safety is sought in physical flight, or +in physical passivity and autistic preoccupation. Since our conceptions +of reality are based upon little “first-hand” experience of the world +about us, the superego usually has a rather easy time of it. + +Political movements, then, derive their vitality from the displacement +of private affects upon public objects, and political crises are +complicated by the concurrent reactivation of specific primitive +motives. Just how does it happen that the private and primitive drives +find their way to political symbols? What are the circumstances which +favor the selection of political targets of displacement? + +Political life is carried on with symbols of the whole. Politics has +to do with collective processes and public acts, and so intricate are +these processes that with the best of intentions, it is extremely +difficult to establish an unambiguous relationship between the symbols +of the whole and the processes which they are presumed to designate. To +the common run of mankind the reference points of political symbols are +remote from daily experience, though they are rendered familiar through +constant reiteration. This ambiguity of reference, combined with +universality of use, renders the words which signify parties, classes, +nations, institutions, policies, and modes of political participation +readily available for the displacement of private affects. The +manifest, rational differences of opinion become complicated by the +play of private motives until the symbol is nothing but a focus for +the cumulation of irrelevancies. Since the dialectic of politics is +conducted in terms of the whole, the private motives are readily +rationalized in terms of collective advantage. + +Politics, moreover, is the sphere of conflict, and brings out all the +vanity and venom, the narcissism and aggression, of the contending +parties. It is becoming something of a commonplace that politics is +the arena of the irrational. But a more accurate description would be +that politics is the process by which the irrational bases of society +are brought out into the open. So long as the moral order functions +with spontaneous smoothness, there is no questioning the justification +of prevailing values. But when the moral order has been devalued and +called into question, a sincere and general effort may be made to find +a reflectively defensible solution of the resulting conflict. Politics +seems to be irrational because it is the only phase of collective life +in which society tries to be rational. Its very existence shows that +the moral order, with all its irrational and non-rational sanctions, is +no longer accepted without a challenge. A political difference is the +outcome of a moral crisis, and it terminates in a new moral consensus. +Politics is the transition between one unchallenged consensus and the +next. It begins in conflict and eventuates in a solution. But the +solution is not the “rationally best” solution, but the emotionally +satisfactory one. The rational and dialectical phases of politics are +subsidiary to the process of redefining an emotional consensus. + +Although the dynamic of politics is to be sought in the tension level +of the individuals in society, it is to be taken for granted that +all individual tensions are not removed by political symbolization +and exertion. When Y hits a foreman in the jaw whom he imagines has +insulted him, Y is relieving his tensions. But if the act is construed +by him as a personal affair with the foreman, the act is not political. +Political acts are joint acts; they depend upon emotional bonds. + +Now people who act together get emotionally bound together. This +process of becoming emotionally bound is dependent on no conscious +process. Freud said that he was made clearly aware of the emotional +factor in human relations by observing that those who work together +extend their contact to dining and relaxing together. Those with +whom we work are endowed with rich meanings on the basis of our +past experience with human beings. Since all of our motives are +going concerns within the personality, our libido is more or less +concentrated upon those with whom we come in touch. This reinforces +the perception of similarities, and supplies the dynamic for the +identification process. Even the negative identification is a tribute +to the extent to which the affective resources of the personality +become mobilized in human contact. + +People who are emotionally bound together are not yet involved in a +political movement. Politics begins when they achieve a symbolic +definition of themselves in relation to demands upon the world. The +pre-political phase of the labor movement as sketched by Nexo in his +_Pelle the Conqueror_ is an able characterization of what the facts may +be. The workers had plenty of grievances against their employers, but +individuals took it out in sporadic acts of violence, and in frequent +debauchery. It was not until a new “set” of mind was achieved with the +appearance of socialist symbols, and their adoption, that the tension +found an outlet in political form. When J hits a foreman on the jaw +because the foreman swore at him, J is not acting for the working +classes; but after J becomes a socialist, his acts are symbolically +significant of the expanded personality which he possesses. Acts cease +to be merely private acts; they have become related to remote social +objects. The conception of the self has new points of reference, and +points of reference which interlock with those of others. + +It is of the utmost importance to political science to examine in +detail, not only the factors which contribute to the raising and +lowering of the tension level, but the processes of symbolization. In +regard to the former aspect of the problem, data will have to be taken +from specialists of many kinds, but in regard to the latter problem, +the student can come into ready contact with the raw material. The +stock in trade of realistic politics is the analysis of the history of +“pressure groups,” ranging from such associations as the Fabian Society +through political parties to conspirative organizations. What are the +conditions under which the idea is itself invented, and what are the +conditions of its propagation? That is to say: What are the laws of +symbolization in political activity? + +I wish to call attention to certain possibilities. Several social +movements will be found which represent a desire on the part of an +intimate circle to perpetuate their relationship at the expense of +society. It is worth remembering that Loyola and the other young men +who founded the Jesuits were in long friendly relationship before +they hit upon their famous project. Not only that: they were anxious +to remain in some sort of personal relation through life, and they +invented many expedients before they hit on the final one. What we had +here was a friendly group which desired to preserve their personal +connections before they knew how they could actually do it. It is less +true to say that institutions are the lengthened shadow of a great man +than that they are the residue of a friendly few. + +Other social movements will be found to have adopted their project +from a lone thinker with whom they have no direct connection. The +process here is that one member of the group, with whom the others are +identified, is impressed by the scheme, and interprets and defends it +to the others. He gets a hearing because of his emotional claim on +the others, and he may whip the doubters and waverers into line by +wheedling or by threatening to withdraw affection. + +The formation of a radiating nucleus for an idea is especially common +among adolescents, and among those who function best in single-sex +groups. Thrasher has described gangs which had a mission in his book +on _The Gang_, and the literature of youth study is full of instances +of two’s, three’s and quartettes which have sworn undying fealty to +one another, and to a project of social reform. When the idea is +embraced later in life it not infrequently appears among those who have +shown pronounced evidence of emotional maladjustment. Much social +and political life is a symptom of the delayed adolescence of its +propagators, which is, of course, no necessary criticism of its content. + +The psychology of personal, oratorical, and printed persuasion by means +of which support is won for particular symbols has yet to be written. +William I. Thomas long ago commented on the quasi-sexual approach +of the revivalist to the audience. Some orators are of an intimate, +sympathetic, pleading type, and resemble the attempts made by some +males to overcome the shyness of the female. Other orators fit into +the feared yet revered father-pattern; others are clowns who amuse by +releasing much repressed material; others address the socially adjusted +and disciplined level of the personality. Thus the relationship between +the speaker and the audience has its powerful emotional aspects, +which are not yet adequately explored. There are some who excel in +face-to-face relations, but who make a poor showing out on the platform. + +The processes of symbolization can be studied with particular ease +when widespread and disturbing changes occur in the life-situation of +many members of society. Famine, pestilence, unemployment, high living +costs, and a catalogue of other disturbances may simultaneously produce +adjustment problems for many people. One of the first results is to +release affects from their previous objects, and to create a state of +susceptibility to proposals. All sorts of symbols are ready, or readily +invented, to refix the mobile affects. “Take it to the Lord in prayer,” +“Vote socialist,” “Down with the Jews,” “Restore pep with pepsin,” “Try +your luck on the horses”--all sorts of alternatives become available. +The prescriptions are tied up with diagnoses, and the diagnoses in +turn imply prescriptions. “A sinful world,” “Wall Street,” “a collapse +in the foreign market”--all sorts of diagnoses float about, steadily +defining and redefining the situation for the individuals affected. +Political symbols must compete with symbols from every sphere of life, +and an interesting inquiry could be made into the relative polarizing +power of political and other forms of social symbolism. Certainly the +modern world expects to fire the health commissioner rather than burn a +witch when the plague breaks out. + +The competition among symbols to serve as foci of concentration for +the aroused emotions of the community leads to the survival of a small +number of master-symbols. The mobilization of the community for action +demands economy in the terms in which objectives are put. The agitation +for the control of the liquor traffic passed through many phases in +America until finally legal prohibition became the chief dividing-line. +To prohibit or not to prohibit grew into the overmastering dichotomy of +public thought. + +Symbolization thus necessitates dichotomization. The program of social +action must be couched in “yes” and “no” form if decision is to be +possible. The problem of he who would manipulate the concentration +of affect about a particular symbol is to reinforce its competitive +power by leading as many elements as possible in society to read +their private meanings into it. This reinforcement and facilitation +of the symbol involves the use of men of prestige in its advocacy, +the assimilation of special economic and other group aims, and the +invention of appeals to unconscious drives. Propaganda on behalf of a +symbol can become a powerful factor in social development because of +the flexibility in the displacement of emotion from one set of symbols +to another. There is always a rather considerable reservoir of unrest +and discontent in society, and there is nothing absolutely fixed and +predestined about the particular symbol which will have attracting +power. + +The analysis of motives which are unconscious for most people, though +widespread, gives the propagandist a clue to certain nearly universal +forms of appeal. The moving pictures which have been produced by the +communist government in Russia are often remarkable examples of the use +of symbols which not only have their conscious affective dimension, but +which mobilize deep unconscious impulses. In one film, for instance, it +is the mother who suffers under tsarism and fans the flames of revolt. +Analysis has disclosed the general, and presumably universal, meaning +of the attachment to the land. The boy-child’s wish for union with the +mother, for all-embracing care and protection, undergoes some measure +of sublimation in social life. Eder remarks that it finds expression +in attachment to the earth, the land, the mother-country, home. The +_Heimweh_ of the Swiss, the pious Jew’s desire for burial in Palestine, +and a host of similar manifestations are instances of this emotional +tie whose significance for state loyalty is large. + +At first sight it might appear questionable that political science +can ever profit from the disclosure of motives which are supposed to +operate in the unconscious of every human being. If these motives +are equally operative, how can they throw any light on differences +in political behavior? And are we not able to point to conditions of +a more localized and definite nature which suitably explain why the +Republican party loses out when the farmer loses his crops? Or why +there is revolution in 1918 and not in 1925? + +The mere fact that motives are more or less universal does not +mean that they are always activated with the same intensity. They +may block one another, until some exciting condition disturbs the +adjustment and releases stores of energy. Indeed, the exploration of +unconscious motivation lays the basis for the understanding of the +well-known disproportionality between responses and immediate stimuli, +a disproportionality which has been the subject of much puzzled and +satiric comment. Farmers do vote against the Republicans when the crops +fail through adverse weather conditions, although reflection would tend +to minimize the possibility that the party in power exercises much +authority over the weather. Oversights in personal relations which seem +very slight do actually give rise to huge affective reactions. The clue +to the magnitude of this notorious disproportionality is to be found +in the nature of the deeper (earlier) psychological structures of the +individual. By the intensive analysis of representative people, it is +possible to obtain clues to the nature of these “unseen forces,” and to +devise ways and means of dealing with them for the accomplishment of +social purposes. + +Modern democratic society is accustomed to the settlement of +differences in discussion and in voting. This is a special form of +politics, for differences may also be settled with a minimum of +discussion and a maximum of coercion. In its modern manifestation, +democracy and representative government have enthroned “government by +discussion,” that is, “government by public opinion.” President Lowell +some time ago pointed out that public opinion could only be said to +exist where constitutional principles were agreed upon. Differences +must be treated as defined within an area of agreement. Democratic +and representative institutions presuppose the existence of the +public which is made up of all those who follow affairs and expect to +determine policy in discussion and by measures short of coercion. The +public has a common focus of attention, a consensus on constitutional +principles, and a zone of tolerance for conflicting demands respecting +social policy. + +When debate is admissible, some standards of right are tacitly admitted +to be uncertain. The zone of the debatable is not fixed and immutable, +but flexible and shifting. Questions rise and debate proceeds; and +presently the resulting solution is no longer discussible. It has +become sanctified by all the sentiments which buttress the moral order, +and any challenge is met by the unanimous and spontaneous action of the +community in its defense. In the presence of a challenge, the public +may be dissolved into a crowd, by which is meant a group whose members +are emotionally aroused and intolerant of dissent. + +What light does the study of the genesis of personality throw on the +factors which determine which symbols are debatable? What is the +mechanism of the process by which the moral patterns are broken up, +discussed, and eventually reincorporated in more or less modified form +into the moral consensus of the community? + +The growth of emotional bonds among individuals of diverse cultural +and personal traits is the most powerful solvent of the moral order. +A valuable treatise could be constructed on the theme, “Friendship +versus Morality.” It is well-known that governments are continually +handicapped in the impersonal application of a rule by the play of +personal loyalties. Robert E. Park has stressed the importance of +curiosity in the field of interracial relations. In no small measure +this is very primitive curiosity about the sexual structure and +behavior of odd-looking folks. When personal ties are built up, +exceptions are made in favor of the friend; what, indeed, is the +constitution among friends? + +The mechanism is clear by which issues once settled are presently +non-debatable. Growing individuals incorporate the end result into +their own personalities through the process of identification and +introjection. Once a part of the superego of the rising generation, +the moral consensus is complete. Where no dissent is tolerated and +dialectic is impossible, we are dealing with a superego phenomenon. +Certain symbols are sacrosanct, and aspersions upon them produce the +crowd mind and not the public.[52] + +Even this brief sketch of political symbolization has shown ample +grounds for concluding that political demands probably bear but a +limited relevance to social needs. The political symbol becomes ladened +with the residue of successive positive and negative identifications, +and with the emotional charge of displaced private motives. This +accumulation of irrelevancy usually signifies that tension exists in +the lives of many people, and it may possess a diagnostic value to the +objective investigator. The individual who is sorely divided against +himself may seek peace by unifying himself against an outsider. This +is the well-known “peacefulness of being at war.” But the permanent +removal of the tensions of the personality may depend upon the +reconstruction of the individual’s view of the world, and not upon +belligerent crusades to change the world. + +The democratic state depends upon the technique of discussion to +relieve the strains of adjustment to a changing world. If the analysis +of the individual discloses the probable irrelevance of what the person +demands to what he needs (i.e., to that which will produce a permanent +relief of strain), serious doubt is cast upon the efficacy of the +technique of discussion as a means of handling social problems. + +The premise of democracy is that each man is the best judge of his own +interest, and that all whose interests are affected should be consulted +in the determination of policy. Thus the procedure of a democratic +society is to clear the way to the presentation of various demands by +interested parties, leaving the coast clear for bargain and compromise, +or for creative invention and integration. + +The findings of personality research show that the individual is a +poor judge of his own interest. The individual who chooses a political +policy as a symbol of his wants is usually trying to relieve his own +disorders by irrelevant palliatives. An examination of the total state +of the person will frequently show that his theory of his own interests +is far removed from the course of procedure which will give him a happy +and well-adjusted life. Human behavior toward remote social objects, +familiarity with which is beyond the personal experience of but a few, +is especially likely to be a symptomatic rather than a healthy and +reflective adjustment. + +In a sense politics proceeds by the creation of fictitious values. The +person who is solicited to testify to his own interest is stimulated +by the problem put to him to commit himself. The terms in which he +couches his own interest vary according to a multitude of factors, but +whatever the conditioning influences may be, the resulting theory of +his interest becomes invested with his own narcissism. The political +symbol is presumably an instrumental makeshift toward the advancement +of the other values of the personality; but it very quickly ceases to +be an instrumental value, and becomes a terminal value, no longer the +servant but the coequal, or indeed the master. Thus the human animal +distinguishes himself by his infinite capacity for making ends of his +means. + +It should not be hastily assumed that because a particular set of +controversies passes out of the public mind that the implied problems +were solved in any fundamental sense. Quite often the solution is a +magical solution which changes nothing in the conditions affecting the +tension level of the community, and which merely permits the community +to distract its attention to another set of equally irrelevant symbols. +The number of statutes which pass the legislature, or the number of +decrees which are handed down by the executive, but which change +nothing in the permanent practices of society, is a rough index of the +rôle of magic in politics. + +In some measure, of course, discontent is relieved in the very process +of agitating, discussing, and legislating about social changes which in +the end are not substantially affected. Political symbolization has its +catharsis function, and consumes the energies which are released by the +maladaptations of individuals to one another. + +But discussion often leads to modifications in social practice which +complicate social problems. About all that can be said for various +punitive measures resorted to by the community is that they have +presently broken down and ceased to continue the damage which they +began to inflict on society. + +Generalizing broadly, political methods have historically been of three +kinds: the method of violence, of exhortation, and of discussion. +All these methods have the common characteristic that they are to +be applied in the settlement of conflicting demands, and not in the +obviation of conflict. In so far as they rest upon a philosophy, they +identify the problem of politics with the problem of coping with +differences which are sharply drawn. + +The identification of the field of politics with the field of battle, +whether the theater be the frontier or the forum, has produced an +unfortunate warp in the minds of those who manage affairs, or those +who simply think about the management of affairs. The contribution +of politics has been thought to be in the elaboration of the methods +by which conflicts are resolved. This has produced a vast diversion +of energy toward the study of the formal etiquette of government. In +some vague way, the problem of politics is the advancement of the good +life, but this is at once assumed to depend upon the modification of +the mechanisms of government. Democratic theorists in particular have +hastily assumed that social harmony depends upon discussion, and that +discussion depends upon the formal consultation of all those affected +by social policies. + +The time has come to abandon the assumption that the problem of +politics is the problem of promoting discussion among all the interests +concerned in a given problem. Discussion frequently complicates social +difficulties, for the discussion by far-flung interests arouses a +psychology of conflict which produces obstructive, fictitious, and +irrelevant values. The problem of politics is less to solve conflicts +than to prevent them; less to serve as a safety valve for social +protest than to apply social energy to the abolition of recurrent +sources of strain in society. + +This redefinition of the problem of politics may be called the idea +of preventive politics. The politics of prevention draws attention +squarely to the central problem of reducing the level of strain +and maladaptation in society. In some measure it will proceed by +encouraging discussion among all those who are affected by social +policy, but this will be no iron-clad rule. In some measure it will +proceed by improving the machinery of settling disputes, but this will +be subordinated to a comprehensive program, and no longer treated as an +especially desirable mode of handling the situation. + +The recognition that people are poor judges of their own interest is +often supposed to lead to the conclusion that a dictator is essential. +But no student of individual psychology can fail to share the +conviction of Kempf that “Society is _not_ safe.... when it is forced +to follow the dictations of one individual, of one autonomic apparatus, +no matter how splendidly and altruistically it may be conditioned.” +Our thinking has too long been misled by the threadbare terminology of +democracy versus dictatorship, of democracy versus aristocracy. Our +problem is to be ruled by the truth about the conditions of harmonious +human relations, and the discovery of the truth is an object of +specialized research; it is no monopoly of people as people, or of the +ruler as ruler. As our devices of accurate ascertainment are invented +and spread, they are explained and applied by many individuals inside +the social order. Knowledge of this kind is a slow and laborious +accumulation. + +The politics of prevention does not depend upon a series of changes in +the organization of government. It depends upon a reorientation in the +minds of those who think about society around the central problems: +What are the principal factors which modify the tension level of the +community? What is the specific relevance of a proposed line of action +to the temporary and permanent modification of the tension level? + +The politics of prevention will insist upon a rigorous audit of the +human consequences of prevailing political practices. How does politics +affect politicians? One way to consider the human value of social +action is to see what that form of social action does to the actors. +When a judge has been on the bench thirty years, what manner of man has +he become? When an agitator has been agitating for thirty years, what +has happened to him? How do different kinds of political administrators +compare with doctors, musicians, and scientists? Such a set of +inquiries would presuppose that we were able to ascertain the traits +with which the various individuals began to practice their rôle in +society. Were we able to show what certain lines of human endeavor did +to the same reactive type, we would lay the foundation for a profound +change in society’s esteem for various occupations. + +Any audit of the human significance of politics would have to press far +beyond the narrow circle of professional politicians. Crises like wars, +revolutions, and elections enter the lives of people in far-reaching +ways. The effect of crises on mental attitude is an important and +uncertain field. Thus it is reported that during the rebellion of +1745-46 in Scotland there was little hysteria (in the technical +pathological sense). The same was true of the French Revolution and of +the Irish Rebellion. Rush reported in his book _On the Influence of the +American Revolution on the Human Body_ that many hysterical women were +“restored to perfect health by the events of the time.” Havelock Ellis, +who cites these instances, comments that “in such cases the emotional +tension is given an opportunity for explosion in new and impersonal +channels, and the chain of morbid personal emotions is broken.”[53] + +The physical consequences of political symbolism may be made the topic +of investigation from this point of view: + + When the affect can not acquire what it needs, uncomfortable + tensions or anxiety (fear) are felt, and the use of the symbol or + fetish, relieving this anxiety, has a marked physiological value + in that it prevents the adrenal, thyroid, circulatory, hepatic and + pulmonic compensatory strivings from becoming excessive.[54] + +Political programs will continually demand reconsideration in the light +of the factors which current research discloses as bearing upon the +tension level. Franz Alexander recently drew attention to the strains +produced in modern civilization by the growing sphere of purposive +action. He summed up the facts in the process of civilized development +in the following way: “Human expressions of instinct are subject to +a continual tendency to rationalization, that is, they develop more +and more from playful, uncoordinated, purely pleasure efforts into +purposive actions.” The “discomfort of civilization” of which Freud +recently wrote in the _Unbehagen der Kultur_ is characteristic of the +rationalized cultures with which we are acquainted. Life is poor in +libidinal gratifications of the primitive kind which the peasant, +who is in close touch with elementary things, is in a position to +enjoy.[55] Modern life furnishes irrational outlets in the moving +picture and in sensational crime news. But it may be that other means +of relieving the strain of modern living can be invented which will +have fewer drawbacks. + +Preventive politics will search for the definite assessment, then, of +cultural patterns in terms of their human consequences. Some of these +human results will be deplored as “pathological,” while others will +be welcomed as “healthy.” One complicating factor is that valuable +contributions to culture are often made by men who are in other +respects pathological. Many pathological persons are constrained by +their personal difficulties to displace more or less successfully upon +remote problems, and to achieve valuable contributions to knowledge +and social policy.[56] Of course the notion of the pathological is +itself full of ambiguities. The individual who is subject to epileptic +seizures may be considered in one culture not a subnormal and diseased +person, but a supernormal person. Indeed, it may be said that society +depends upon a certain amount of pathology, in the sense that society +does not encourage the free criticism of social life, but establishes +taboos upon reflective thinking about its own presuppositions. If +the individual is pathological to the extent that he is unable to +contemplate any fact with equanimity, and to elaborate impulse through +the processes of thought, it is obvious that society does much to +nurture disease. This leads to the apparent paradox that successful +social adjustment consists in contracting the current diseases. +If “health” merely means a statistical report upon the “average,” +the scrutiny of the individual ceases to carry much meaning for the +modification of social patterns. But if “health” means something more +than “average,” the intensive study of individuals gives us a vantage +ground for the revaluation of the human consequences of cultural +patterns, and the criticism of these patterns.[57] + +If the politics of prevention spreads in society, a different type of +education will become necessary for those who administer society or +think about it. This education will start from the proposition that it +takes longer to train a good social scientist than it takes to train +a good physical scientist.[58] The social administrator and social +scientist must be brought into direct contact with his material in +its most varied manifestations. He must mix with rich and poor, with +savage and civilized, with sick and well, with old and young. His +contacts must be primary and not exclusively secondary. He must have an +opportunity for prolonged self-scrutiny by the best-developed methods +of personality study, and he must laboriously achieve a capacity to +deal objectively with himself and with all others in human society. + +This complicated experience is necessary since our scale of values is +less the outcome of our dialectical than of our other experiences in +life. Values change more by the unconscious redefinition of meaning +than by rational analysis. Every contact and every procedure which +discloses new facts has its repercussions upon the matrix of partially +verbalized experience, which is the seeding ground of conscious ideas. + +One peculiarity of the problem of the social scientist is that he must +establish personal contact with his material. The physical scientist +who works in a laboratory spends more time adjusting his machinery +than in making his observations, and the social scientist who works in +the field must spend more time establishing contacts than in noting +and reporting observations. What the instrumentation technique is to +the physicist, the cultivation of favorable human points of vantage is +for most social scientists. This means that the student of society, as +well as the manager of social relations, must acquire the technique +of social intercourse in unusual degree, unless he is to suffer from +serious handicaps, and his training must be directed with this in mind. + +The experience of the administrator-investigator must include some +definite familiarity with all the elements which bear importantly upon +the traits and interests of the individual. This means that he must +have the most relevant material brought to his attention from the +fields of psychology, psychopathology, physiology, medicine, and social +science. Since our institutions of higher learning are poorly organized +at the present time to handle this program, thorough curricular +reconstructions will be indispensable.[59] + + * * * * * + +What has been said in this chapter may be passed in brief review. +Political movements derive their vitality from the displacement of +private affects upon public objects. Political crises are complicated +by the concurrent reactivation of specific primitive motives which +were organized in the early experience of the individuals concerned. +Political symbols are particularly adapted to serve as targets for +displaced affect because of their ambiguity of reference, in relation +to individual experience, and because of their general circulation. +Although the dynamic of politics is the tension level of individuals, +all tension does not produce political acts. Nor do all emotional bonds +lead to political action. Political acts depend upon the symbolization +of the discontent of the individual in terms of a more inclusive self +which champions a set of demands for social action. + +Political demands are of limited relevance to the changes which will +produce permanent reductions in the tension level of society. The +political methods of coercion, exhortation, and discussion assume that +the rôle of politics is to solve conflicts when they have happened. +The ideal of a politics of prevention is to obviate conflict by the +definite reduction of the tension level of society by effective +methods, of which discussion will be but one. The preventive point +of view insists upon a continuing audit of the human consequences of +social acts, and especially of political acts. The achievement of +the ideal of preventive politics depends less upon changes in social +organization than upon improving the methods and the education of +social administrators and social scientists. + +The preventive politics of the future will be intimately allied to +general medicine, psychopathology, physiological psychology, and +related disciplines. Its practitioners will gradually win respect in +society among puzzled people who feel their responsibilities and who +respect objective findings. A comprehensive functional conception of +political life will state problems of investigation, and keep receptive +the minds of those who reflect at length upon the state. + + + + +CHAPTER XI[60] + +THE PROLONGED INTERVIEW AND ITS OBJECTIFICATION + + +The empirical material assembled in this book has appeared in the +course of prolonged interviews with individuals under unusually +intimate conditions. This method of the prolonged interview has now +had a history of some thirty years in the form devised by Freud, +but so far there are very few efforts to objectify the events which +transpire there. Otto Rank has written a series of studies of the +“interview situation” which is the most important effort so far made to +characterize the distinctive features of the method. But the empirical +material which is so far reported does not rest upon the verbatim +recording of what happens, except in a few specimen instances of highly +pathological cases, and attempts are only now being made to record some +of the principal physiological changes in the subject. + +It will be remembered that Freud learned to predict the future course +of reminiscence by watching word slips, random movements, and many +other acts which were formerly dismissed as chance occurrences. He also +found that he could abbreviate the laborious efforts of the patient +to recall the traumatic (the original) episode by proposing various +interpretations. It is at this point that the cautious physician +and psychologist have picked serious quarrels with psychoanalytical +findings. They allege that the patient produces the kind of material +which the analyst suggests is to be brought forth, and that the whole +process is one of putting a rabbit in the hat which you triumphantly +extricate later on. They have seized upon the schisms in the analytical +fold, and declare that you eventually dream about anima figures if you +are analyzed by Jung, that you relive birth traumas if you are analyzed +by Rank, and that you welter in a galaxy of anal, oral, and urethral +symbols if you are deeply analyzed by Freud. You talk about inferiority +feeling if you work with Adler, and about castrative anxiety if you +work with Freud. + +One might suppose that after thirty years of labor there would be in +existence a body of documents which could be consulted by a group of +competent specialists who were trying to reconcile their differences +and doubts about what actually goes on in the analytical interview.[61] +At the present time the interview situation is poorly reflected in the +notes taken by the analyst at the expiration of each period (if and +when he takes them). Nobody knows what processes distort the reporting +practices of different listeners, and nobody knows the value of the +published scraps. Since one of the avowed purposes of therapeutic +analyses is to bring the person to stand on his own feet and to stop +leaning on others, or upon symptom indulgences, personal relations +are usually broken off at the end of the interview. This obviously +impedes the possibility of following up the subsequent history of +the personality, and of ascertaining the stability of the supposed +therapeutic results. The case-history documents available in good +institutions have the advantage of representing the combined product +of several people who are in touch with the subject, and who may be +supposed to operate as a check upon one another. But these documents +are usually short, and betray the psychopathological slant of the ones +chiefly responsible. And these documents are typically incomplete +in reporting the whole personality of the subject on account of the +clinician’s interest in the more circumscribed disease phenomena +displayed. + +When John Brown reports an episode in which he was told that his nose +would be cut off if he didn’t quit handling himself, how do we know +what importance to assign to the alleged reminiscence? Are we to accept +this as a historical statement? Are we to construe it as a fabrication +which, however, shows what he wanted to have happen, or supposed would +happen, if he disobeyed orders? Are we to interpret it as a sign of his +fear of the interviewer, couched in the language of the past, because +this mode of exercising the imagination has been trained into him? Are +we to interpret this as a sign of his hatred of the interviewer, on the +theory that a self-punishing fantasy is a defense of the conscience +against a murderous impulse of the unadjusted portion of the self? Are +we to accept it as an effort to win the approval of the interviewer +by reporting the kinds of things which he has learned to suppose the +interviewer wants to hear, a supposition which is based upon a private +study of psychoanalytical literature? Are we to accept it as an +“original trauma” and to expect an immediate or eventual decrease in +the neurotic anxiety which the individual shows? Are we to look upon it +as a screen reminiscence for a genuinely traumatic episode in which the +threat was made, not against his nose, but against his penis? Or is it +a screen for a prohibited impulse which was once activated, and which +seized upon a past episode and gave it the significance of a threat? + +These are a few of the specific questions which can be raised about +the proffered material, and the scientific problem is to devise more +convincing demonstrations of the available theories, or more conclusive +refutations, than we now have. What are some of the criteria of a +“traumatic episode”? If the reminiscence is accompanied by much affect +(excitement), there is a presumption of its authenticity. And how is +affect measured? We depend at the present time upon the observer’s +judgment of the variations in the voice, and shifts in posture, or +the twitches and jerks of the body. This can be augmented under +experimental conditions by taking a continuous record of variations in +blood pressure, respiration, galvanic reflex, etc.--all of which offer +some indication of excitement.[62] We are thus able to improve our +assessment of the possible significance of the reports, speculations, +and general fantasies of the subject. It may be that in due course +we shall be able to differentiate on a physical basis between +“suppressions” and “repressions,” and that we shall be able to follow +through the transformations from beginning to end of the interviewing +process. + +Our judgment of the “traumatic episode” is also influenced by the +subject’s certainty. If the subject reports that he believes what +he remembers, this has some value in raising a presumption. This is +especially true if the subject has fought against the idea, but it has +spontaneously continued to appear and plague his associations. But a +reported sense of certainty is flimsy stuff, unless this certainty +survives for some time. We know that individuals try to escape from +anxiety feelings by a flight into explanations, and that they are +ready to volunteer or to accept all kinds of interpretations of their +behavior rather than to continue to endure anxiety. This is the +basis for the credulity of the neurotic, and explains why everything +from mysterious “glandular unbalances” to “astral perturbations” are +accepted from time to time as completely adequate explanations of +personal troubles. So the subject’s reported certainty must survive +even disparaging suggestions and prolonged self-scrutiny, and become +emancipated from affect, if it is to be taken very literally. + +Another criterion is the consistency of the reported episode with all +the other relevant facts. There must be something wrong about the +report that K was brutally punished by his father at a time which was +some years after the parent’s death.[63] + +The obstacles which lie in the path of a research program which calls +for objective records of as much as possible of what transpires in the +interview situation are not to be minimized. The bulk of a verbatim +report of an hour’s conversation per day over several months is +almost overwhelming. But historians are accustomed to plow through +whole libraries of pages about Napoleon or Bismarck, and from the +standpoint of a comprehensive theory of personality development any +personality is almost as good as any other, although high elaboration +and distinguished achievement are advantages. + +There are some points in favor of applying this technique of +personality study to people who are normal, at least in the sense +that they are suspected of normality by themselves and others. There +is a moral to be learned from some of Freud’s early mistakes when he +assigned critical significance to certain childhood experiences which +later investigation showed were very common. The clinical caricature +is invaluable for the high relief in which certain tendencies of +the normal are revealed. Indeed, “normality” is more difficult to +understand than disease, from one point of view, since it involves a +complicated integration of many tendencies, a flexible capacity to +snap from one mood, preoccupation, and overt activity to another, as +the changing demands of reality require. Normality is complexity and +integration, and it ought to be approached as directly as possible as a +control on the pathological. + +The main advantage which the normal subject hopes to glean from the +analytical interview is a judgment of the importance of this, in +comparison with other, psychological methods. Records being as they +are today, only one who has been through the mill can talk with +much assurance about what happens, and if he has a critical mind, +he isn’t too sure then. The analytical interview is a discipline in +self-scrutiny. The subject learns to exploit a new method of using the +mind, which he tries to cultivate and to correlate with the logical +methods to which he is partly accustomed in ordinary adult life. The +new technique of using the mind is the free-fantasy technique, whose +chief function is to produce new material for logical consideration. + +The interview necessitates the reactivation of the individual’s +struggle with his antisocial impulses. This happens be the subject +sick or well, for every individual possesses more or less active and +powerful antisocial drives. Every personality displays some pathology +in the form of remainders of the Oedipus phase of growth. The socially +adjusted portion of the personality takes up the battle again against +the unsublimated drives, and a considerable amount of neurotic anxiety +is generated in the process. The problem is to encourage the subject +to face these unadjusted remnants frankly, to bring them to the full +focus of waking consciousness, and to discharge their bound energy. +This comes to pass in the roundabout way of recapturing the original +episodes in which the neurotic solution was invented. The work of +reminiscence is the preliminary to liberation and understanding. + +The interview substitutes the talking-out for the acting-out of +personality drives. One learns to recover the critical points in +one’s past history by watching the present for clues to the full +meaning of the present situation, and this includes the inspection +of reminiscences. A reminiscence is always relevant to a present +situation, and serves the double rôle of annotating the present and +reporting the past. The interview experience is long and arduous, and +the subject learns very slowly to deal with himself as an object in +a world of objects, and to free his judgment more and more from the +distorting effects of primitive psychological structures. + +The analytical situation is so arranged as to facilitate this process +of self-inspection. The provocations to act out rather than think out +are reduced by simplifying the sensory present. The subject lies in +a relaxed position, and is better able to observe those stiffenings +of the body, those variations in respiration, those oscillations of +visceral tension, those impulses to scratch and finger which escape +ordinary attention, but which are indicative of the meanings put in +the current situation. The sensory environment remains substantially +constant, and the interviewer handles the situation on a rather fixed +routine. The subject is temporarily encysted from the demands of +professional and conventional tasks, but the interviewer is present +to prevent the individual from dissipating his energy in musings which +are quickly forgotten. The interviewer is a prod to associate freely, +and a spur to the critical consideration of the material supplied by +the freely moving fancy. The necessity for verbalization brings the +acts of fantasy into clearer focus than usual, which is a necessary +preliminary to moments of sustained logical reflection. Since the +interviewer permits the subject to disregard the usual amenities of +society, and to let his fantasies fly for the sake of finding where +they land, regressive responses are permitted to appear. That is, the +individual is not required to adjust to a conventional world of adult +reality, but is permitted to reactivate earlier forms of dealing with +the world. In the world of adult reality, the multiple tendencies of +the individual are canalized into conventionally acceptable forms, +and the most maladapted drives may display themselves in unobtrusive +variations on the pattern. When conventional reality is no longer +present, and the individual is encouraged to watch his partly forming +responses, rather than to co-ordinate, condense, ignore, or suppress +them, these tendencies spread forth diffusely in imagination and +reminiscence. When this process continues far enough, the individual +achieves a high degree of insight into the genetic development of his +current preoccupations and traits. + +Since the analytical process is a period of strain for the subject, it +may be wondered why it is bearable. Fortunately for the investigator, +there are many advantages to the participant which sustain and fortify +his conscious purpose to persevere until understanding has been +substantially deepened. The analyst treats every manifestation of the +personality, no matter how trivial, with respectful interest. This is +exaggerated unconsciously by the subject, who greatly overestimates +the personal affection which the interviewer has for him. Some of +the energy of the personality is always free to begin new object +attachments, and this energy is concentrated upon the interviewer. +The subject is permitted to talk at length about himself, and when +the interviewer listens attentively and patiently, the subject +identifies himself with the listener on the basis of a common attitude +of interest in a beloved object. The interviewer’s ascendancy in +technical knowledge (his authority) resembles the authority of the +adults who were once supposed to possess unlimited knowledge. The +day-by-day solicitude tends to reinstate the emotions of the early +family situation in which the child could play irresponsibly, under the +watchful, responsible care of the adult. The subject relaxes the effort +to keep bawdy, disloyal, mean, and revengeful thoughts from welling +into this mind. The frank expression of these thoughts in ordinary +social life would bring down punishment upon his head, or mark him +out as a victim of mental disorder. The subject is enabled to welter +in unsocial or antisocial ravings and imaginings, and the process of +developing these symptoms in the presence of another person becomes +an absorbing part of his daily, weekly, and monthly existence. The +subject intensifies his warm emotional interest in the one who exempts +him from society’s code of reticence. This is a mark of the analyst’s +tremendous power, and also of the analyst’s special interest in the +subject. The free-fantasy procedure even exempts the individual from +abiding by the ordinary forms of logic and grammar. He is also able to +enjoy the pleasure of impressing someone else with the brilliance of +his language. From time to time, new insight comes into old habits and +worries, and the zest of intellectual comprehension is added to the +other pleasures. + +At first sight the teaching or research interview might seem to +sacrifice the most powerful motive upon which the interviewing +procedure has relied, namely, that of securing relief from disturbing +symptoms. The individual who is suffering from some crude pathological +disturbance, like a functional gastro-intestinal disorder, +psychological impotence, obsessive ideas and compulsions, comes to +the interviewer as a weak person seeking aid of a stronger. If he has +been shuttled from one internist to another perhaps receiving derisive +looks and contemptuous preachments, the objective interest with which +the psychotherapist treats his symptoms produces a keen conscious +and unconscious gratification. Even the symptoms are beloved parts +of the self, and like the ugly ducklings, they are sometimes treated +with special affection (Ferenczi). The hope of being relieved of the +annoying symptoms, which is consciously present in many pathological +cases, is supported on the unconscious level by an old infantile +attitude which expects the interviewer to work miracles. Even some of +the antisocial impulses of the personality may welcome the therapeutic +situation. These antisocial tendencies are themselves not entirely +gratified in the symptoms, for the nature of a symptom is a compromise +between these antisocial tendencies and the socialized impulses of the +self. Nunberg has pointed out that the unsocialized portions of the +personality may support the misguided hope that the outcome of therapy +will be the boundless and unlimited gratification of their demands. +There is also evidence of the existence of a compulsion to confess +(Reik) to antisocial tendencies, which are rejected by the socialized +self, and thus to gratify an unconscious need of punishment. + +Now the sense of being sick and the desire to get well are not entirely +absent from any normal person. No one is entirely free from remnants +of his adjustive problems, and no one is entirely satisfied with +himself. At the beginning of the interview, this motive may appear in +consciousness as nothing more substantial than the innocuous belief +that any increase in self-knowledge will enable one to deal even more +satisfactorily with personal problems as they arise. + +Among the other motives which play into the analytical situation, +and enable the subject to go through with it, may be mentioned a few +very primitive ones. Life has meant the blocking of many impulses by +authorities whose power cannot be successfully defied on the spot. +Hatreds can only express themselves under these conditions with some +prospects of success when they seek to overcome the superior by +trying to take his power into one’s own personality by copying him. +That is to say, the individual seeks to identify himself with the one +who possesses superior knowledge in the analytical situation, and by +becoming like him, to secure independence, and thus to annihilate +him as an intimidating and obstructive external object. There may be +a desire to secure a weapon by means of which other people may be +eviscerated, and deprived of their power to outstrip the individual. +On the conscious level, these motives are partly visible in excessive +aspirations for self-mastery and control. This taking-in and biting-off +of the analyst’s power is also rooted in some of the earliest reaction +patterns which the infant displays toward objects. The sheer pleasure +of talking, and giving and withholding information is also present. + +As the subject withdraws attention from the original symptoms or +motives, concentrates on the game of dilating upon the past, and +indulges in prohibited delights, the analytical situation becomes an +orgy of illicit pleasure. Emotions are released from old channels and +find new objects of crystallization, especially in the person of the +analyst. The interviewer who permits this “transference” is now in a +position to aid the subject in coming to grips with the underlying +unsocialized impulses of the personality. The behavior of the subject +has by this time given a host of clues to the history of his emotional +growth. The analyst continues to stimulate the individual to scrutinize +his associations, to state honestly the wayward wishes flit across his +mind, or which lurk half-seen in the marginal recesses of attention. +Back and forth, bit by bit, there is reconstructed the subjective +history of a life. To put it metaphorically, old sores run anew, +smoldering embers of jealousy and lust flame once more, and ancient +wounds yawn again. Reminiscence reguilds the faded tapestries of the +past, and restores to the full glare of consciousness the cobwebs of +the mind which house the spiders of malevolence and lechery. Primitive +meanings, once appropriate to a situation, and later projected +unintentionally into the adult world, are recovered and criticized in +the light of their appropriateness to society. Regressive reliving, +which is powerfully supported by narcissism and the repetitive +compulsion, is observed and overcome. + +It should not be supposed that the secrets of the mind are exposed for +the asking. The method of repression is a primitive means by which +the feeble, nascent self seeks protection from impulses which, if +tolerated, if not shut out with unreflecting violence, would overrun +it (Alexander). When the self becomes strong and stable, primitive +impulses can be permitted to develop farther in consciousness without +imminent danger that they will pass over into action by controlling +the motor apparatus. Now the critical, reflecting, deciding self must +not be crippled by an unduly strong conscience. The structure which +we know as the conscience is begun in early childhood, and is formed +by the incorporation into the self of the orders and commands which +are administered by authority. When the self is weak, as during these +formative years, the conscience relies on crude methods to protect its +hard-won ascendancy over the antisocial drives in the personality. +It visits penalties of anxiety upon the self whenever there are any +signs of leniency toward these impulses. The conscience keeps its +summary, sadistic quality long after, and neurotics are properly said +to suffer from an excess of conscience. Blind denial of the existence +of fundamental trends in the personality must be supplanted, and the +_obiter dicta_ of the conscience subjected to the criticism of the more +mature and experienced self. An obstacle to this procedure is furnished +by those energies of the personality which are specialized in resisting +the antisocial impulses which have been repressed and denied direct +and undisguised access to consciousness. Any lowering of resistance +subjects the individual to acute anxiety, as the conflict between the +socialized and the unsocialized drives is reinstated. All sorts of +subterfuges are hit upon to obviate the necessity for enduring this +anxiety and bringing the hidden into consciousness, where it can lose +its charge. The overcoming of this resistance to taking up the battle +again is a major process in the prolonged analysis. + +The recapitulation of the drives which the individual has experienced +throughout his life is the process which lends unique value to the +psychoanalytic interview record. The literature of psychoanalysis +is full of sample fantasies which are assigned to places in the +hypothetical sequence of personality growth. Over twenty years ago +Freud wrote some preliminary remarks on character types, especially +stressing the rôle of certain excretory pleasures in the development of +some psychological structures. The sucking, biting and anal retention +interests of the infant and young child have been the subject of +theoretical treatment by several analysts, among whom Abraham is the +most important. Ferenczi has sketched a comprehensive theory of the +rise of genital interests on the part of the child, and this has been +amplified in various directions by Reich. The differences between male +and female development have been sketched by Sachs, Deutsch, and Horney. + +It is not within the necessary limits of this discussion to go farther +into the nature of the hypotheses which have been proposed by these +various investigators. We will be able to formulate them more precisely +when we have succeeded in objectifying what happens in the course of +the interview, and this is to be achieved along the lines previously +sketched. Some day we can state hypotheses more definitely which can be +taken and tested by non-analytical methods. Some of these conceptions +can be confirmed or eliminated by the direct observation of children +of all age groups. It is quite possible, however, paradoxical though +it may sound, that the best way to study some phases of infancy and +childhood will be to study the adult. There is some reason to believe +that the superior expressive power of the adult, whether in words or +in drawing, may render explicit many states which are beyond the scope +of one who merely looks at movements. If we find that the subjective +reconstructions during the adult analysis check closely with the +results secured by modified analytical and behavioristic procedures +applied directly to older children, we will have more confidence +in the material which purports to relate to very early experience. +We may also test out as far as possible the “historicity” of the +reminiscences produced at different phases of the analysis. It should +be said in passing that the analysis of children requires important +revisions in the externals of the technique, as Anna Freud has shown. + +I want to stop at this point to comment upon the significance of the +fact there should be such a thing as the psychoanalytic method of +dealing with the genesis of personality. How does it happen that at +the end of the nineteenth century there appeared in Western European +civilization this remarkably intricate procedure? Why do we regard it +as worth while to spend months or even years in constant introspection? + +Viewed in the large, I suppose this is the most spectacular sign of the +value crisis in our civilization. Here is an effort to stimulate the +individual to the reconstruction of values, not on the basis of imposed +authority, but through prolonged scrutiny of the self as a process. +The processes of the human personality are subjected to the same +patient, arduous, and minute inspection which has proved so successful +when applied to the objects of the physical world by the naturalist, +astronomer, and microscopic specialist. The end result of a long and +successful analysis is an individual who is able to interpret his +relation to the world in terms of a few master-symbols. These symbols +take on meaning because they have been acquired in the course of a long +apprenticeship under the exacting eye of another. These symbols define +for the individual in comprehensive terms his relation to unfolding +reality. They permit in favorable instances added smoothness of +adjustment, and offer a means of relief from disproportionate feelings +of futility, despondency, persecution, and omniscience. + +The appearance of a system of communicable master-symbols for the +definition of one’s relation to the universe is anything but a novel +phenomenon in the culture history of mankind. At one time a leading +question was, “What is God’s will for me?” The belief was that this +could be made manifest after the reading of Holy Writ, reverent +supplication, and sudden revelation. Our Western civilization has +sapped at the pillars of this structure of thinking. We are committed +to the persistent querying of the world of change, and the problem is +always “_How_ does it change?” How do the routines of the seeable, +smellable, touchable, audible, tasteable universe actually work? In +what characteristic order do the subjective events of the mind follow +one another? In what order do subjective and objective events occur? +And no matter how many intermediate links in the sequence have been +named there always remain new intermediate and new all-embracing frames +of reference to be identified and placed in orderly relationship. + +Values are sought to be defined, not on the authority of another, but +in the act of scrutinizing processes. We place enormous value upon +the quest for sequences, and discover our new values in the act of +broadening or deepening our understanding of change. If you tell a +sophisticated carrier of Western culture that God reveals his wisdom +after the reading of a printed passage, he will be less impressed by +what is put in than by what is left out of the account. What relation +is there between what is read and what is decided? Can you set up +controlled repetitions for the sake of testing the predictive value +of these generalizations? Are there other words which can be read but +which will result in the same decisions when the reader has the same +pecuniary stake in acting a certain way? And so on and on. + +It is worth noticing that the symbols supplied by analysis are not +“ought” words but “process” words. You are not told to die for your +country; you are told to face all the values which you can find in the +situation. This does not, however, eliminate the “arbitrary” character +of decisions actually reached. The decision comes with all the shock +of revelation, of inevitability, of unexpectedness; the individual may +only control decisions by rehearsing the pertinent values until he +finds himself in the clutches of a judgment. This willingness to accept +uncertainty, to scrutinize intermediate terms and pertinent values, is +an outcome of the analytical discipline. + +Such a procedure grew up in a civilization whose values have been in +confusion since the medieval cosmology broke down. President Masaryk, +serious thinker and scholarly writer, began his sociological work with +a study of suicide, which he found to be a rough index of the value +strains in culture. When emotional bonds are forged with exponents of +life-patterns of different design, the mental stage is set for both +creative originality and destructive disintegration. The individual +must assume the load of working out his own scheme of values, and many +are disorganized in the attempt. + +The validation of the prolonged interview as a contributor to our +dependable knowledge about life depends upon objectifying its +processes; the achievement of its implications for the reconstruction +of the hierarchy of individual values is an impressionistic and often +turbulent experience.[64] + + + + +CHAPTER XII[65] + +THE PERSONALITY SYSTEM AND ITS SUBSTITUTIVE REACTIONS + + +So far in this book human behavior has been interpreted in terms of +various “tendencies” which such behavior is supposed to manifest. +Suppose we call into question this type of psychological explanation. +What, after all, is a “tendency”? It postulates a relationship between +events, one of which is taken as the terminal situation, and others of +which are treated as relative approximations to the type situation. +Terms like “wishes,” “desires,” “instincts,” “impulses,” “drives,” and +“motives” are all employed in this sense. + +For purposes of analysis, tendency interpretations may be divided into +five main classes, depending on the nature of the relationship which +is postulated between the approximate and the terminal situation. +First, personality events may be interpreted as approximations toward, +or realizations of, goals (terminals) which are communicated by the +subject. We may believe a man who tells us that he is running for a +train when we see him dashing along the street toward the railway +station. + +Second, personality events may be interpreted as degrees of +approximation to subsequent events which are actually observed. Mr. C’s +solicitude for the health and welfare of the needy ones of the district +may be construed in the light of his subsequent campaign for Congress. + +Third, personality events may be treated as degrees of resumption of +terminal situations of a type which have already been observed. Lying +in bed after waking up in the morning, whenever there are difficulties +to cope with, may be interpreted as a reactivation of an earlier +psychological impulse to lie still and be waited on. + +Fourth, personality events may be construed as approximations to +“normal” terminal events which are observed for the biological or +cultural category of the individual. Thus heterosexuality may be +postulated as a tendency of a human being, although he consummates no +heterosexual adjustments. + +Fifth, personality events may be interpreted in terms of end situations +which are “extreme” for the members of the species or the culture. Thus +the acts of man may be viewed as degrees of approximation to murder, +suicide, and incest. + +Each sense in which the tendency conception is used is valid and useful +for certain purposes, and is exposed to characteristic liabilities to +error. Thus if we accept the man’s statement that he is running to +catch a train, we may be wrong; he may be running to the woods beyond +to escape the constable. + +The reactive type of statement is an alternative (I should prefer to +say a supplement) to tendency generalizations. When we make a reactive +statement, we specify quite definitely the antecedent-consequent +relation to which reference is made. The specific stimulus-response +description of the events which elicit the knee jerk, or call out an +avoidance reaction to yellow cloth, illustrates what is meant here. +Of course the stimulus-response style of thinking is not nearly as +exhaustive, and the tendency style of thinking is not nearly as +ambiguous in actual application, as might appear at first glance. The +stimulus-response statement of how to elicit the knee jerk which is +usually given may be predictively valid in eight cases out of ten; but +there are “exceptions” which show how wide is the context of factors +which it would be necessary to include in the picture, were it nearly +complete. And when the stimulus-response mode of thinking is extended +from such relatively stable and touchable situations to those which +involve complex central (subjective) events in the sequence, it becomes +in reality a disguised form of tendency interpretation. + +The chief possible virtue of tendency conceptions is in introducing +some sort of order in complex phenomena. If the observer tries to +enumerate all the body movements, all the electronic gyrations, all +the nuances of social adjustment which are thinkable in a given +constellation of personality events, he is likely to become lost +in aimless classification, and to prove barren in the invention of +procedures which are calculated to elicit particular aspects of the +whole which may be of high predictive value. The human mind is able to +operate with a very small number of categories with which to introduce +order into events, particularly when these are, for the most part, +still defined qualitatively. Clarity of thought demands economy in the +orienting frames of thought. + +How a tendency simplification may lead to fruitful research for +predictively valuable particulars is shown in the case of Freud, in +contrast to Janet. Janet made remarkably clear classifications of +the psychopathological facts as he saw them, and although his terms +and categories were abundant, his work was comparatively sterile of +novel procedures for the modification of human personalities. Even +his classificatory pursuits were hampered by his little-criticized +assumptions. His notion that dreams were passing confusions which +were traceable to diminished psychological tension in sleep deprived +dream material of all significance as classifiable data, and he almost +completely ignored it. Freud, who tended to operate with a few bold +tendency simplifications, brought into the range of observation whole +categories of data which have high predictive value. + +When tendency simplifications are used until vast numbers of instances +accumulate of their supposed operation, “subtendencies” (such as +the variations of the manifestations of the Oedipus constellation) +multiply apace until the problems of rendering one tendency consistent +with the expressions of another one carry scientific speculations +into the logical molds of legalism and dogmatic theology. If the +subtendencies are not modified, and long lists of special tendencies +are added, terminological difficulties likewise arise in applying the +unwieldy list. The long inventories of supposed instincts are less at +fault because they imply an unwarranted assurance about the innate +propensities of man than because they are “too numerous to mention,” +and introduce confusion rather than orienting principles in the field +of study. + +Although the prediction of one set of tangible reactions from another +is the aim of scientific formulation, this by no means implies, then, +that the reactive style of thinking is the one best calculated to guide +the attention of the thinker to the selection of the most fruitful +hypotheses (“if” predictions). Indeed, especially valuable results have +been secured in the personality field by the pattern of thinking which +views a cross-section of facts as an expression of a few tendencies. + +But a reactive style of thinking which operates with a few +simplifications might prove useful in the study of human personality +at the present time, since both the psychoanalytical and the +“itemistic” psychologies have a plethora of particulars with which they +are familiar, but suffer from certain crippling viewpoints inherent in +their early starting-points. Psychoanalysis is well accustomed to the +use of a few orienting terms, but since these are stated in “tendency” +form, there is much lack of emphasis upon rendering the objective marks +of their manifestation precise. The inventory psychologies though +accustomed to precision are accustomed to overlooking the woods for the +trees. + +Can the personality be viewed as a system, and can we think of it in a +few terms which can be gradually objectified, and which indicate the +principal varieties of personality manifestation? If the personality +is a true system, interferences which are introduced at various points +ought often to produce substitutive reactions at many remote parts of +the personality. Personalities may be compared from one cross-section +to another, and from one personality to another, by exposing them to +similar interferences, and by examining the substitutive reaction +sequences which emerge. + +For the purpose of summing up the personality at any given period, we +may consider it to be a constellation of the following action patterns: +object orientations, adjustive thinking, autistic reveries, somatic +reactions. + +The object orientations of the individual are describable as various +degrees of assertiveness, provocativeness, or submissiveness toward +sexual and non-specifically sexual objects in the environment. In +extreme instances the individual may be abusive, insulting, domineering +toward superiors, colleagues, clients, and subordinates in his +profession, and toward his wife or mistress in intimate life; or he +may be cowed in his work and timid in his sexuality; or he may show +extreme variations between his professional and private levels of +behavior. These are the differentiating reactions upon which it is +hoped to throw some light by the examination of the personality system +in its principal manifestations. + +Adjustive thinking has to do with the relationship of the individual +to reality. It issues in socially relevant acts, which on the +creative level mean contributions to science, art, administration, +and philosophy. Autistic thinking is highly egocentric, but adjustive +thinking when it dwells upon the relationship of the self to its +surroundings is able to treat the self as an object among objects. + +Autistic reveries are non-adjustive to reality. They may be divided +into several classes of which morbid-suicidal, pessimistic, +megalomanic, denunciatory, and persecutory reveries are particularly +common. In exaggerated form they become the most conspicuous feature +of the personality, and various clinical names are used to distinguish +them. Common, and representative, themes are suggested by these +quotations: “I’m a hopeless sinner”; “The world’s going to the dogs”; +“I’m the slickest guy in the world”; “The President is the Judas of +mankind”; “The President is using death-rays on me.” Autistic thinking +flourishes in greater or less abundance in every personality whose +history is taken for any length of time. + +The somatic reactions at any given cross-section of the personality are +striped muscle movements and tensions; heart and circulatory reactions; +gastro-intestinal responses; skin adjustments; organic sexual behavior; +respiratory, pupillary, and urogenital adaptations; inner glandular +action on the biochemical balance of the blood; heat production (fever +and certain metabolic alterations not included before); electrical +conductivity; and immunological responses. Under the same environing +conditions individuals show wide variations in physical behavior, and +when these manifestations show certain gross deviations from norms, +though no organic lesion can be shown to be present, the presumption +is that the energy of some mental process has been converted into +somatic form. This notion of hysteria (and what may be called hysteroid +reactions) was classically formulated by Freud. Every individual who +is closely scrutinized shows, from time to time, tendencies to urinate +excessively (though no adequate physical explanation is apparent), to +refrain from passing feces, or to suffer pains in the back or neck. + +The comparisons which may be made among personalities on the basis of +the nature of the substitutive reactions which arise when they are +subjected to similar conditions may be illustrated on the gross level +by citing some “experiments” which society has tried. Mr. A is a member +of the city council in one of our large cities. On two occasions, +when he was defeated for re-election, he developed autistic reveries +to such an extent that he was confined in a sanitarium under the care +of a psychiatrist. Thus Mr. A met a deprivation in the sphere of his +orientation to social objects (political activity) by developing +exaggerated autistic reveries (depressive preoccupations). The case of +A may be thrown up against that of Mr. B. When Mr. B lost out in his +campaign for re-election to the legislature, he began to worry about +his health, and although the physicians could find no adequate physical +basis for his trouble, he developed a host of gastro-intestinal +disturbances which incapacitated him from regular professional +life. His substitutive reaction was somatic. Another man, a Mr. C, +was defeated and spent most of his time writing a subsequently +well-recognized book on political theory. His substitutive reaction +was in the sphere of consecutive, theoretical, adjustive thinking. +It will be remembered that one of our driving administrators, J, had +his administrative duties curtailed and immediately took the wife of +another for his mistress showing that his object orientation in the +world of affairs was a substitute for his object orientation in the +sexual field. + +From this point of view, we are able to examine the relative function +which political activities and preoccupations play in the personality +integration of the individual. For one it is an alternative to mental +disorder, for another it is an alternative to physical disease, for +another an alternative to aggressive sexuality. + +Now it is of interest and importance to observe that the study of +the life-histories of these men showed that their mode of meeting +the world had become organized rather early. The man who developed +somatic symptoms had shown a physical upset after losing a contest for +the presidency of his class in college, and also in adolescent and +preadolescent deprivation situations. Alexander traced the basis for +the personality splitting in J to very early childhood. + +I want now to indicate how the prolonged interview throws much light +on personality development, and lends itself to consideration from +the point of view outlined here. If the analyst is “insulted” by +the subject in the course of a day’s interview, the subject may the +next day report somatic trouble, or morbid reveries, or unusual +kindliness toward an annoying person, or a burst of creative work. The +interviewer, taking such facts in juxtaposition to others, may be able +to predict the kind of substitutive reactions which this person is +likely to show in a whole range of social situations, and to predict +retrospectively the form of reaction which was manifested at different +levels of development. The trained psychoanalyst watches the subject +like a hawk for clues of this kind; the possibility of removing his +“hunches” from the realm of art into the area of dependable knowledge +depends upon the objectification of his observations, and upon the +development of specifically experimental methods. + +A method by which some certainty is to be introduced in personality +records is by testing the coincidence of observations taken through +time by observers who occupy specified positions in relation to the +subject. Very important applications of this procedure have been made +to child study by several child psychologists, more particularly by +Florence Goodenough and Dorothy Thomas. A set of categories were set +up to describe various acts, such as “smiling,” “physical contact with +other child,” and “physical contact with object.” The definiteness of +each term was then tested by having two independent observers make the +same number of observations at fixed intervals during a prescribed +period. The results showed which categories were ambiguous, and +which categories were sufficiently clear to justify their inclusion +in behavior studies. It was discovered, for example, that “smiling” +behavior showed much less definiteness than “physical contact with +another child.” This procedure makes it possible to measure the error +of a measuring procedure and is strictly comparable to the calibrating +process common to the physical sciences in determining the relative +reliability of measurements made by a particular instrument. The social +scientist is compelled to rely on the use of his eyes, and the problem +is to standardize the use so that objective results can be secured.[66] + +Such methods of devising and testing categories for the observation +of behavior need urgently to be developed for the study of courtroom, +legislative, committee, mass meeting, and other types of behavior in +situations of immediate political interest. It is possible to record +the differential reactions of participants, and to distinguish that +which is inherent in the rôle performed (chairman), and that which is +the individualized penumbra of the act (individual gesture). + +These objective categories and recording practices can be extended +to the study of behavior wherever dominating and submissive behavior +is found. The gap between the studies of children and the study of +personalities in complicated adult political situations can be filled +in with the idea of finding reliable criteria of the stability of +political reactions. Some early studies have been made which suggest +that types of dominating behavior are isolable at very early ages. +Charlotte Bühler detected children who dominated through pressure of +activity, despotic behavior, and “leadership” behavior. Her monograph +reproduces photographic illustrations of what she means by the terms +employed.[67] An outgrowth of her work is the experimental study by +Marjorie Walker at the Minneapolis Institute of Child Welfare (under +direction of Anderson and Goodenough). An observational study by +Mildred Parten at the same place showed that in uncontrolled play +activities the dominating or submissive rôles might be strikingly +monopolized by individual children.[68] By methods which are less +objective but much better than simple impressionism, there have been +a number of “political types” observed in later development. Karl +Reininger kept a careful record of the behavior of his pre-puberty +schoolboys, and brought out very clearly the functional distinction +between the “leader” and the “specialist.” The specialist might +temporarily guide the group in some activity for which he was +particularly competent, but the leader kept him within limits and +reassumed the direction as soon as the special activity was over. +Reininger has many shrewd observations to offer about the bearing of +what he saw on the whole range of social psychological theory, and +his monograph is a beautiful example of how a circumscribed empirical +study can be given meaning and distinction against a broad theoretical +background.[69] Hildegard Hetzer watched the spontaneous groupings +of children in play groups, and shrewdly distinguished organizers, +specialists, and social leaders from one another.[70] + +At a still later level is the study which Viktor Winkler-Hermaden +made of the psychology of youth-movement leaders. These leaders are +recruited from youths who are not much ahead of their groups in age, +and in a well-balanced and penetrating chapter he contrasted the +“ruler,” “teacher,” and “apostle.”[71] + +Special studies of dominating and submissive types in various +situations ought to be made with some reference to the reaction-type +classifications for the age period which are made by competent +students. Since puberty-adolescence is of so much importance, the +categories which are proposed in the literature ought to be examined +by the special investigator. H. Hoffman gives a modified list of the +puberty types described by Spranger and Croner in one section of +his general book on character formation.[72] Suggestions on various +distortions of development which lie behind certain forms of dominating +and submissive behavior are to be found in August Aichhorn’s lectures +on _Verwahrloste Jugend_.[73] This is the most valuable book to a +student of youth which has yet been explicitly devoted to the subject +by an analyst. Aichhorn reports in his eighth lecture the results of an +extremely important experiment which he made with the most aggressive +and uncontrollable boys under his supervision (he has served for many +years as the head of a home for homeless boys). The whole group was +put together, and the staff members were instructed never to interfere +with them, short of stopping permanent injury. These “hard-boiled” +youths broke up the furniture, mauled one another, and wore out several +attendants before they gradually tamed down. After having learned that +they could not taunt the environment into punishing them, and into +justifying their own suspicions of it, they went through a process +of character re-education. The behavior of the group is reported in +graphical form, and representative instances of what occurred are +recited in the text of the lecture. Several specific genetic hypotheses +are set up to explain particular kinds of behavior on the part of the +boys with whom Aichhorn has had intimate touch.[74] + +Will we be able to predict from objective studies made of preadolescent +boys who dominate their play groups that one set of them will stand +a high chance of dominating play and work groups in adolescence? Can +we thus isolate rather stable developmental sequences for various +trait constellations which are of direct importance to the student of +politics? Can we achieve a composite picture for a given culture by +studying overlapping age groups for a two-year period? Certainly the +way is becoming clearer to an effective relationship between political +science and the disciplines associated with the study of the growing +individual. + +One of the difficulties which lie in the path of successful +collaboration with psychiatrists and child psychologists is that the +political scientists have not themselves made it entirely clear just +what the adult differentials are whose genetic history they would like +to understand. What are the questions about the specifically political +life of the individual which the political scientist would like to +have included in any master-inventory of possible facts about the +intensively studied individual? + +The following classification of political attitudes is intended to +have suggestive value rather than formal completeness. The first +section of this classification refers to the political preferences +and expectations or forebodings of the individual investigated. +Some individuals cherish a fraternal and some a paternal ideal. The +anarchist, socialist, and democrat talk the language of equality among +a family of brothers; the monarchists preserve a father.[75] A series +of other ideological distinctions are perhaps sufficiently clear from +the terms used. + + CLASSIFICATION OF POLITICAL ATTITUDES + + SECTION A. POLITICAL VIEWS + +I. Preferences + + Paternal ideal + Fraternal ideal + + Strong central authority + Weak central authority + + Revolutionary ideal + Counter-revolutionary or reactionary ideal + + Cataclysmic change + Evolutionary change + + Indulgent toward coercion, secrecy, ruthlessness + Insistent upon persuasion, openness, scrupulousness + + Emancipatory, defensive, expansive ideal for group + World-unity ideal + +II. Expectations and forebodings + + Small political change can have great results + Small political change can have some results of value + Little of value can be accomplished by politics + Revolutionary changes imminent, eventual, contingent + +It is probably in relation to political practices, as distinguished +from political views, that the intensive study of the individual +has the most to offer. I have included a list of questions in +Appendix B which are intended to suggest the sort of thing which +is directly pertinent to the interest of the political scientist +in this regard. How has the individual acted as a subordinate when +confronted by superiors of various kinds (in the army, in school, in +fraternity organizations, in business, in party clubs, in propaganda +organizations, in administrative hierarchies, and the like)? How has +the individual acted as a superior when confronted by subordinates +of various kinds? Besides considering the behavior of the person as +subordinate or superior, we may inquire into his attitude toward +individuals who have not been members of his various organizations, +but who have been possible helpers or obstacles. Thus he may have +approached strangers for money, or sought to win diplomatic support +from another organization against a common menace. His tactics may be +classified according to the means employed and the measure of success +attained. Special attention may likewise be devoted to the behavior +of the individual, not toward particular persons, but toward publics, +which are necessarily anonymous. Summarizing: + + SECTION B. POLITICAL PRACTICES + +I. As subordinate + + Confronted by superiors who are + A. Strong, brutal + B. Masterful but rather objective + C. Weak + + Reaction (conscious) + + 1. Does not assume a friendly mask (exterior) even though + he sees it would be an advantage (seeks to escape, becomes + stubborn, surly, assaultive, joins anti-authoritation acts + engaged in by associates, continues to contemplate revenge long + after) + + 2. Does not see or press up own individual advantage because + of attachment or intimidation (deference without conscious + hostility, pronounced affection, intimidated sacrifice of + associates to curry favor, overgratitude) + + 3. Combines friendly mask with conscious acts of hostility + (plays up qualities admired by chief, whether imitative of + chief or expressive of the chief’s repressions) + + 4. Irrational elements in adaptation at a minimum + +II. As authority + + Confronted by subordinates who are + A. Strong, hostile, dangerous rivals + B. Strong and objective + C. Weak + + Reaction + + 1. Does not refrain from taking up a hostile front even when it + is recognized to be inappropriate + + 2. Takes apparently friendly line while pursuing hostile + purposes + + 3. Does not take strong-enough measures to secure efficiency or + respect (too indulgent of mirrors of self or of those who work + out frustrations) + + 4. Objective (inflicts narcissistic wound when advantageous, + reassures when useful, develops abilities of subordinates, + thwarts when dangerous) + +III. In dealing with possible helper or obstructor who is outside +organization (most effective tactics chosen and range of tactics) + + Appeals to logical standards + Appeals to sentiment + Non-violent and violent coercion + Inducement (tangible advantage) + +IV. In dealing with public + + Types of tactics chosen, success + +Forms of expression, thought, and interest may be singled out for +special consideration. What is intended here is sufficiently apparent +from the captions: + + SECTION C. FORMS OF EXPRESSION, THOUGHT, INTEREST + +I. Forms of expression + +(Includes all symbolizing forms: political editorials, novels, +poems, paintings, cartoons, plastic media, plays, acting) + +Most effective style + Analytical and dialectical + Persecutory (sarcastic, denunciatory) + Enthusiastic + Humorous + Commanding +Range of style wide or limited + +II. Mode of thought + + Quick or slow to suggest policies or tactics + Almost totally uninventive + Systematically collects data prior to judgment + Impressionistic improvisation + Welcomes suggestion and criticism before decision + Impatient of suggestion and criticism before decision + Anxious to justify decision to those about or to world + Indifferent about justifying decision + Stubbornly holds to decision + Oscillates in decision + Much influenced by facts and arguments (or little) + Much influenced by appeals to sentiments (or little) + Much influenced by personal inducements (or little) + Much influenced by coercion (or little) (note that influence may + be negative as to direction) + Genuine pursuit of general interest in exercise of discretion, or not + Elated by victory or depressed + Genuine or narrow in sharing credit + Deeply depressed by defeat or satisfied in defeat + Interested in programs and values + Interested in processes and methods + Long-run or short-run objectives + Aims at immediate or eventual political action + Presses through to a decision capable of being tested + Conclusions or decisions vague + Ideal of responsible personal participation + Consistency between opinion and practices + Self-consciousness of own techniques + Conforms or not to family pattern (exaggerated, adoption of + opposite, ...) + +III. Political interest + + Formulated early and persists through life + Formulated early, lies dormant, reawakened + Aroused early, disillusioned + Aroused late + +By this time it is perhaps superfluous to comment that every fact is +defined from the point of view of an observer, and that the problem +is to specify as definitely as possible the angle of observation of +the recorder. Trait lists are meaningless unless they can be filled +in by a fact-collecting process which surveys the various situations +with respect to which it is of possible relevance. It is very obvious +to the psychopathologist that the man who is “aggressive” at work +may be “timid” in sexuality. All too frequently personalities are +supposed to be “aggressive” when a certain number of raters have +agreed on it, without stopping to consider whether the raters have a +chance to become acquainted with the behavior of the individual in +many situations. The multiplication of ratings by persons who are in +a poor position to judge the subject (even by “intimate” friends who +do not, however, act as sexual partners) adds nothing but a spurious +specificity to the data. The interviewer who listens to the intimate +life of the individual through many weeks and months is in a very +strategic position to become acquainted with details of individual +reactions which even intimates have not seen. A “rating” must be taken +with special reference to the history of the relations of the rater +and the rated. It may be that we shall presently find that the ratings +of analysts in dealing with certain types of people who can be easily +identified do not substantially deviate from those of “intimates” or +even rather casual acquaintances of certain kinds. Such knowledge will +enable research to proceed with more certain pace toward the time when +we shall know what to look for and how to elicit what we want with the +maximum of economy. The specialist who interviews a man for an hour may +be able, during the course of what appears to be an ordinary social +relation, to find the tell-tale signs which detailed research has shown +to be invariably, or almost invariably, connected with particular +impulse systems and developmental histories. As Bjerre so well put it: + + As soon as our intercourse with a certain person is no longer + governed by common interests, but by a desire to acquire a + knowledge of his inmost being, we immediately abandon the formal + content of his utterance and begin unconsciously to seek for + whatever indication of his inner life appears in his speech + independently of, or even in spite of, his conscious will.[76] + +What is achieved is a correlation of the results of “casual” contact +and “intensive” study, a correlation which is the common target of a +converging attack upon the understanding of the human personality. + +Some day we shall know how to validate the saying of the old physician +which is on the title-page of this book: “From him who has eyes to +see and ears to hear no mortal can hide his secret; he whose lips are +silent chatters with his fingertips and betrays himself through all his +pores.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STATE AS A MANIFOLD OF EVENTS + + +Implications have continually been drawn in the foregoing pages +about the bearing of the intensive study of individual personalities +upon the meaning of the political process as a whole. Since the +psychopathological approach to the individual is the most elaborate +procedure yet devised for the study of human personality, it would +appear to raise in the most acute form the thorny problem of the +relation between research on the individual and research upon society. +We are therefore justified in devoting more extended attention to the +theoretical problem involved than we have yet taken occasion to do. + +It may be asserted at the outset that our thinking is vitiated unless +we dispose of the fictitious cleavage which is sometimes supposed to +separate the study of the “individual” from the study of “society.” +There is no cleavage; there is but a gradual gradation of reference +points. Some events have their locus in but a single individual, and +are unsuitable for comparative investigation. Some events are widely +distributed among individuals, like breathing, but have no special +importance for interpersonal relations. Our starting-point as social +scientists is the statement of a distinctive event which is widely +spread among human beings who occupy a particular time-space manifold. + +Subjective events occupy definite positions in the flow of events, and +the problem of explanation is the problem of locating stable relations. +Since subjective events are not open to direct observation, but are +inferred from movements, the observer, O, must infer the existence of +subjective terms in the sequence by imagining what he would experience +under all the similar circumstances which he can survey and compare +to his own experience. Reduced to its simplest terms, the observer’s +procedure is that of isolating a subjective event which he wishes to +investigate, and of searching for the “externals” which will make +the conditions of its occurrence clearly communicable to others. +These externals are sometimes fairly clear, and can readily be stated +in precise, “touchable” form. The sensation of “roughness” can be +predicted to follow the application of certain objects to specified +parts of the skin. A transition from a rough to a smooth object may +also produce “flinching,” which can be somewhat definitely described, +and which accompanies and (perhaps) initiates some of the subjective +events. + +When any observer undertakes to talk about the state, he may choose +specific subjective experiences, such as a sense of loyalty to a +community, and say that all who have this experience (and/or certain +others) under specified conditions make up the state. Such specified +conditions may include the act of testifying to it when asked by an +intimate friend, or when warned that the community is in danger. The +concept of the state may be amplified by searching for the external +circumstances which precipitate the appearance of the subjective events +which are characteristic of stateness. + +Such a method of defining the state absolves us from “superindividual” +constructs. The locus of the subjective events is still individual. +The group is not a superindividual phenomenon but a many-individual +phenomenon. The time-space abstraction of the “group” is just as “real” +or “unreal” as the time-space abstraction called the “individual.” +They are both equally real or unreal, and they stand and fall together. + +The state has duration. It is a time-space frame of reference for +individual events. Particular individuals may pass on, but if the +overwhelming majority of those who occupy a certain geographical +area continue to experience the subjective events of the type chosen +as critical for the state, the state endures. The state is thus +independent of any one individual, but it ceases to exist when enough +individuals change their minds or die without procreating. + +I have not yet defined the particular events which are to be treated as +the marks of the state. In the sea of subjective events we must choose +certain typical ones. Now definitions of this kind can be developed +most advantageously when we proceed, not by a method of rigorous +exclusion, but of relative emphasis. Suppose we tentatively begin by +saying that the distinguishing experience is that of communal unity, +when it is manifested by the use of coercion against outside and inside +disturbers of the communal order. Imagine an observer is overlooking +a primitive village. He sees a band of young men whose behavior he +interprets thus: They are wearing painted stripes, brandishing spears, +and having left the village, they engage in fighting a band of young +men from a neighboring village. Is this evidence of the existence of +the state? The facts are insufficient to justify a decision. Closer +observation may show that these young men all live in one quarter +of the village and that other young men are idling about. When the +“warriors” come back, they are only cheered by those who live in one +section. Those who live there may prove to be members of one family, +some of whose young men have avenged a private wrong in which the +village as a whole has no part. The system of claims and expectations +which is the essence of the communal order is not at stake. The +communal order must be involved if the state is involved. + +Robert H. Lowie[77] has shown that the term “state” may properly be +used to designate even the most primitive communities, and that the +common distinction between a prestate and a state period of cultural +development is a distortion of the facts. The simplest peoples known, +the Yurok of northwestern California, the Angami of Assam, and the +Ifugao of northern Luzon, all have a sense of belonging to a social +unit larger than a kin group, and act in overt defense of this +order. The theft of property of one kin group, when committed by a +fellow-villager, is mulcted by a traditional fine, but the theft, when +committed by a marauding outsider, is punished by death. In the case +of adultery, warring families inside the village are merely engaged in +adjusting the size of the penalty; it is universally assumed that some +penalty is due. + +The marginal cases notoriously play havoc with definitions. The +statement made before that the distinguishing mark of the state is +the experience of communal unity, when it is manifested by the use of +coercion against outside and inside disturbers of a communal order, is +too narrow to cover a small but extremely interesting series of facts. +There may be no use of coercion against outsiders, for the war pattern +may be entirely absent from the community, although violence against +insiders who threaten the communal system of claims and expectations +appears to be universal. + +The view so far proposed rests upon a frank acceptance of social +“parallelism.”[78] Hans Kelsen has subjected the theories of +parallelism of psychological states (common emotion and the like) to a +sharp, and in many ways devastating, criticism. He says that “common +emotion, common volition and common idea can never mean anything more +than a description of the coincidence in consciousness of a number of +individuals.” But + + if one really wished to consider the state as consisting of a + community of consciousness such as this, and as a matter of + fact, such a realistic, empirical psychological meaning is often + attributed to what is called the collective will or the collective + interest of the state, then, in order to avoid inadmissible + fictions, one would have only to be consistent enough really to + consider the state as formed only by the contents of those whose + consciousness had shown the necessary agreement. One would be + bound to realize that community of will, feeling or thought, as + a psychological group manifestation, fluctuates tremendously at + different times and places. In the ocean of psychic happenings, + such communities may rise like waves in the sea and after a brief + space be lost again in an ever-changing ebb and flow.[79] + +In this keen dialectic Kelsen has been led astray by a failure to +recognize the time dimension of the events referred to by such a +concept as the state. Subjective facts are located in time in relation +to one another when viewed from the standpoint of any observer. The +concept of the state involves similar events in relation to one +another within a duration. The concept of the state includes this +idea of a temporal frame, and can best be grasped as a relational +system (a manifold) in which a certain frequency of subjective events +is maintained. Thus the state is not abolished when some individuals +sleep or occupy themselves with the banalities of existence, unless +the state is defined with reference to a duration of a few seconds +or hours or days. But there is no reason whatever for choosing such a +transitory frame of reference. It is just as valid to use a year as a +minute, or a decade as a year, for the time dimension. Thus the state +can be treated in what Kelsen speaks of as an “empirical psychological” +sense. It is a durable empirical fact just so long as a certain +frequency of subjective events occurs. If Kelsen agrees that contents +of consciousness are “empirical,” he is bound to see them in a world +of duration, and he has no authority to prescribe that the state must +refer to subjective events as a “knife-edge instant.” + +The state, then, is a time-space manifold of similar subjective events. +Kelsen is incorrect in alleging that the acceptance of the parallelism +of psychological phenomena as a fundamental fact destroys the state as +a permanent institution. + +Mere parallelism of psychological events does not give us the state, +for a distinguishing type of subjective event must be selected if +we are to characterize the state, the family, and other social +groups. Kelsen is entirely correct in criticizing those theories +of the state which invoke parallelism but neglect to specify the +particular “contents of consciousness,” “since not every and any group +manifestations formed upon the parallelism of psychic processes is able +to constitute that community.” + +That subjective event which is the unique mark of the state is the +recognition that one belongs to a community with a system of paramount +claims and expectations. This recognition of belonging does not +necessarily imply an indorsement of this state of things. The essence +of the state is this recognition, and the individual may indorse or +deplore the fact without abolishing it. One need not be sentimentally +bound to the order; it is enough if the order is noted. + +This unique experience is never found unassociated with other +subjective events. The recognition is usually amplified by pride in +belonging to the state, and by a determination to enforce the order +upon one’s self and others. One’s recognition of the order is usually +accompanied by an idealization of one’s participation in it, by an +idealization of the order itself, and by a condemnation of deviations +from it. All this is frequently expressed as the “sense of justice” +which is the foundation of certain theories of law and the state. + +The subjective event which marks the state is usually manifested in +various “externals.” Thus the use of coercion is well-nigh universal. +The externals may be broadened to include behavior which may be treated +as a substitute for coercion. Ordering and obeying relationships which +function in a coercive crisis may continue when peace comes. There +may be an apparent “elaboration backward” of processes antecedent to +coercion in foreign and domestic affairs, and this may obviate a resort +to the _ultima ratio_. The regulation of the use of coercion, and the +maintenance of a certain degree of mobilization during non-crisis +periods, devolves upon “leaders,” who may preside over initiations, +goods distribution, and general ceremonials. The process by which +“heads” are selected may involve electoral colleges, elections, and +agitations. + +It is worth observing that in the description of political processes +terms are employed which often carry no “subjective” connotations on +their face. But in fact every term unavoidably carries subjective +implications, and if these be ignored, there is danger that social +theory will hypostatize “patterns” or “traditions” as extra-subjective +entities, endowed with distinctive energies and amenable to special +laws. + +Often the subjective “burr” on the pattern is so dim that the +subjective need scarcely ever be made explicit. Many generalizations +can be made by disregarding the subjective element and focusing +attention upon the transformations through which the associated +patterns pass. Linguistics has achieved notable success by this method. +Phonetic arrangements are named as objects of investigation and the +fact discovered that those sounds which occur in certain relationships +presently alter in regular ways. + +It is theoretically possible to make a rough scale of descriptive +conceptions according to the relative fulness or thinness of the +subjective element in the pattern. To express this symbolically, the +complexity of the _S_ to the _E_ (subjective to external) varies +between nearly 100 and nearly 0. The contemporary prominence of what is +called “social psychology” is due to the effort to draw attention to +the consideration of patterns in which the _S_ factor is large. + +The failure to stress the subjective dimensions of the events +referred to as “processes,” “patterns,” or “customs” is not only due +to the circumstance that the _S_ is often negligible, but that the +objective element may often appear with other subjective elements. +John B may rise when the national anthem is played, but he may do so +“automatically” with his mind mostly preoccupied with the sore on +his heel. The particular _S_ which is meant when the full pattern of +patriotic ceremonialism is discussed may thus be supplanted by another +_S_ with the same _E_. Thus the act becomes an entirely different +phenomenon, and may erroneously be classed with patriotic ceremonialism +in the full sense. + +This point has far-reaching consequences for political science. The +accurate comparison of behavior patterns depends upon comparison of +the whole pattern. It must not be automatically inferred that _S_ +exists where _E_ is found. The nature of the subjective factor can be +inferred from extending the observation in several directions. It may +be lengthened (John B may complain of a sore heel after the anthem). It +may be more intensively scrutinized within the same period (John B may +be seen to shift his weight from one foot to another, and to frown when +one heel touches the floor). + +Descriptive political conceptions are undergoing a continuous +redefinition in the life of society, and unless the student of +political processes is on the alert to test his descriptive conceptions +in the light of changing reality, he will operate with falsifications +and not with simplifications. “Voting,” to choose an instance, is a +concept of the greatest complexity. It does not alone consist in the +dropping of ballots into urns or boxes or hats, or in the punching +of buttons on a machine. These external elements, the _E_’s, in +the concept of voting are not the heart of the matter. What count +especially are the subjective terms in the constellation of which these +externals are a part, and a highly variable part at that. How seriously +do people take the responsibility of collecting information about the +personalities and issues with which they are confronted and judging +these matters in the light of a conception of the public interest? +Voting is an entirely different matter when individuals are coerced +into casting ballots a certain way and when they are free, leisured, +and interested. To call the casting of ballots under all circumstances +“voting” is to deprive the term of most of its significance. + +It is highly probable that the phenomenon which is loosely called +voting in Chicago is today quite different from what is was fifty years +ago; it is radically true that the phenomenon called voting in London +is something different from voting in Cook County.[80] How are we to +decide what meaning to assign to particular aspects of the political +process as we observe them at different times and places? The ocean +of subjective happenings which are related to external movements of a +kind often associated with politics is ever changing, and it cannot be +described by inventory methods. Not inventory but sampling is essential +if empirical definiteness is to be attached to a term. + +Speaking very generally, two modes of procedure are possible. The first +is to begin with the externalities which are a rather fixed feature of +a pattern of social behavior with which the investigator is familiar, +and to proceed to find out how the subjective features of this pattern +change. One may study “balloting” or “modes of punishment” and the like +from this point of view. Throughout Western European culture there +prevails such relative homogeneity of pattern that research may proceed +directly from this starting-point. + +The field ethnologist, who deals with cultures of a drastically +different kind, must often use another avenue of approach. A set of +external movements like “balloting” may not be sufficiently widespread +to permit comparison. The ethnologist must proceed by stating to +himself the subjective fact whose presence he would like to detect +(such as a desire to participate earnestly in deciding communal +problems), and participate as fully in the daily life of the people +as he can, in the hope that presently he will divine such a subjective +viewpoint and its characteristic modes of expression. It is true that +there are some movements of man whose significance is practically +universal, but these are too few to enable the utter alien to dispense +with a long period of participation in the day-to-day life of the +people. What happens is that the observer presently begins to recognize +the subjective fact behind the movements of the body, but this +primitive judgment of his is a diffused judgment, based upon a mass +of subtle particulars which he may long be unable to isolate in his +own thinking and to point out to others; indeed, this process is never +complete, or we should have a complete understanding of human life. + +Obviously both points of departure for research have their advantages. +The American student of social patterns in Western Europe has thousands +of subtle meanings established in common with Frenchmen, Germans, or +British. This is an enormous time-saving asset. If anyone undertakes to +use the ethnologist’s approach to a familiar culture, the results are +likely to strike the participant in that culture as perfectly obvious +and hardly worth the effort.[81] + +The whole aim of the scientific student of society is to make the +obvious unescapable, if one wishes to put the truth paradoxically. The +task is to bring into the center of rational attention the movements +which are critically significant in determining our judgment of +subjective events, and to discover the essential antecedents of those +patterns of subjectivity and of movement. For all the people who are +startled to find that they have spoken prose all their lives, there are +many to emulate the rustic who “know’d it all the time” when scientific +facts are stated about human nature. That which is known implicitly and +based upon diffused, unverbalized experience must be made explicit if +new ways of dealing with the world are to be invented. + +The work of investigation may eventuate in statements of the subjective +constellations which find expression in particular cultural forms, or +in the description of the subjective constellations which are connected +with forms which are universal for all men. The frame of reference of +the social scientist is the culture; the frame of reference of the +human psychologist is the species. + +What is known as the “quantitative method” provides a valuable +discipline for the student of culture because it directs his attention +toward the discovery of events which are often enough repeated to raise +a strong presumption that a particular sequence does actually exist. +These events must be so defined that similar events can be identified +by other workers. This necessitates an operational definition of the +concept, which is to say, terms must be used to specify the position of +the observer in relation to the configuration which it is proposed to +describe.[82] + +The impatience among students of culture with the slow-footed +quantitative approach is partly due to the diffuse, implicit nature of +the experiences upon which is based the judgment about a subjective +event outside one’s self, and the resulting bias of the student of +culture against exaggerating the significance of items in the pattern. +The statement that “his life-experience has been hued with melancholy” +is a generalization which presupposes a knowledge of a prodigious +number of facts. Or the statement that “the prestige of public office +is greater in Germany than in any country” depends upon possible +observations as numerous as the sands of the sea. Any proposition +in Bryce’s _Modern Democracies_ or in Masaryk’s analysis of Russian +civilization refers to tremendous ranges of data. Of course, the +experience of any observer is puny beside the Gargantuan proportions +of the facts, and able inquirers always proceed upon a sampling basis. +They get in touch with men of every income group, every religious, +every racial, and every provincial group; they study the manifestations +of the culture in painting, literature, mathematics, legislation, +administration, and physical science. + +The procedure of a Bryce was quantitative in the sense that many +observations were accumulated before inferences were fixed, but it was +not quantitative in the special mathematical sense of the word. The +student of culture is often alienated by the quantitative approach, +because the quantitative method necessitates the simplification of the +number of facts taken into account; the impressionistic-quantitative +approach of the student of culture gets an undivided reaction to the +whole and makes simplification afterward, perhaps revising and indeed +oscillating at frequent intervals. + +There is more in common between the student of culture, and +especially of alien culture, and the student of the individual by +prolonged-interview methods than might appear at first sight. The +ethnologist confronting the manifestations of an alien culture and +the psychopathologist confronting the alien manifestations of the +unconscious secure unique training in their research for meanings in +details which escape the attention of the naïve man. Both form their +idea of the subjective events from a multitude of signs, which may +be spread over months of intimacy, and both are somewhat inclined to +disparage the search for simple external facts which can be relied upon +to indicate a specific subjective content. + +The psychopathologist possesses the most elaborate known means of +exploring the manifold subjective events which may be associated +with external movements. Besides the conscious subjective experience +there is a rich unconscious life which he is especially proficient +in exposing. Thus our movements are not alone the outcome of simple +conscious processes; they are said to be “overdetermined” by a variety +of factors. + +This concept of overdetermination is not unknown to popular common +sense. We know that John B is proud of being an American, and that he +wants to fight for his country; we comment slyly that John B’s best +girl likes the uniform, and this is one reason why he volunteers. +And more than that. We know that action is not always the outcome of +experiences that point in the same direction. We may know that John B. +is anxious to stay on the job a month longer and to get a promotion, +and that going into the army at a given moment means sacrifice. Thus +his mind is partly divided against itself. What psychopathological +methods do is to disclose yet wider vistas, and to expose the operation +of factors which cannot be readily seen. Thus a deep longing for death +may be a contributing factor to heroism. + +The psychopathological approach is embarrassing less in the specific +content of its revelations than in the wealth of meaning which it +discovers behind what is at first glance but a simple pattern. The +rôle, of a particular subjective experience and of a movement cannot +be fully appraised apart from the total context at which it functions, +and this method discloses a wider context than common sense is aware of. + +Now the multiplicity of human motives has always been a source +of embarrassment to people who wanted to manage men or merely to +understand them. The clumsy machinery of judicial administration has +been worked out along certain lines in the hope of introducing some +degree of uniformity into adjudication by limiting the consideration +of the motives which operate in a particular case. The judge is thus +supposed to limit himself to the determination of the existence +of a particular state of facts, and to act in a particular way if +these facts can be established according to a prescribed procedure. +The movement toward the standardization of the discretion of public +officers expresses itself in this general pattern of thought: + +An act is prohibited by the state. + +Certain prescribed “externals” shall establish the fact of the act +having been committed. + +The actor shall be dealt with in certain specified ways. + +This crusade against the subjective element in the mind of the public +officer is in some measure determined by the desire of the judge or +civil servant to avoid responsibility.[83] + +The psychopathological approach precipitates something very like a +panic among those who have tried to box the manifestations of human +life into conventional common-sense categories. A dozen motives seem to +bloom where but one was found to bud before. + +Let us see what this does for political theory. The prolonged study +of individuals enables us to discern the details of the process by +which the political pattern, as we meet it in adult life, comes to be +achieved by individuals. + +When X runs for office or passes judgment, his behavior is +overdetermined by motives, conscious and unconscious, which were +organized in successive patterns during infancy, childhood and youth. +The recognition of belonging to a communal order never functions in +isolation, and the comparison of life-histories shows that this is +implanted in the child on the basis of meanings which he has elaborated +in his struggle, first against inhibitory factors in the environment, +and presently, when he has introjected the demands of the environment, +against his own antisocial impulses. + +The early restrictions which the environment imposes upon a child +are important in that they are met by reactions on his part which +predispose him to meet subsequent limitations in certain ways. These +early restrictions are imposed upon the child by inflicting pain or +by distracting attention to pleasurable stimuli. Inhibition is thus +established in the organism by _force majeur_ on the part of the +environment, since the infant is simply overpowered or outgeneraled by +the environment. + +Thus far in his development the growing individual has not become +socialized in the sense that he has become self-regulating in +relation to objects in the environment. The infant learns “sphincter +morality” (in the phrase of Ferenczi), but this involves no emotional +relationship to objects. His pleasures remain on his own body +(autoplastic), and the environment is an instrument for removing bodily +tensions in the simplest manner. Gradually the child begins to look for +gratification by lively erogenous activities upon the body of another. +This outward push of activity is again limited and frequently blocked +by _force majeur_. In the place of sexual relations to objects there +now appears a new form of relation, and the child socializes himself by +incorporating the practices of those about him. + +It will be remembered that emotional bonds are established in two +ways: by object choice (for sexual acts) and by identification. +Identification, Freud writes, is the original form of emotional tie +with an object. It can become a substitute for a libidinal object tie, +and it may arise with every new perception of a common quality shared +with some other person who is not an object of the sexual instinct. +This latter is partial identification. The qualities of the object are +copied (introjected). The energy for the identification is said to be +supplied by aim-inhibited sexual instincts. The name of the state, the +ceremonial acts of deference toward ceremonial symbols--all this and +much more is characteristically a feature of the child’s growth. + +Characteristic, that is to say, frequent, but not invariable. Children +are always brought in relation to a system of interferences and +indulgences (ways of raising children), and they always perceive an +order of some kind. But in some cases when a nation lives subjected to +a state, the recognition of the state relation may be accompanied by +resentment. + +The state pattern itself prevails when many people take it as more than +a mere state of affairs, and the idea is reinforced by “irrelevant +meanings.” Some individuals impose motivations upon others through the +state pattern. These individuals, whether despots or enthusiasts, may +be termed “radicles,” the active ones who serve as radiating centers +for the preservation and amplification of the state pattern. + +Freud treats the state as an emotional unity.[84] The members of the +state identify themselves with an abstract object (the idea of the +state) and are bound emotionally by the partial identification which +arises in perceiving an analogous relationship to the object. Kelsen +has objected to this conception of the state as a real subjective unity +by arguing that identification is a process between individuals, and +that each member of a state cannot be thought of as having entered into +personal relationships with every other member. Even if his narrow +construction of identification were well founded, the state could still +be treated as a real subjective unity on the basis of interlocking +identifications. A has identified with B and B with C, and one of the +features of B which the child A would typically take over (introject) +would be the name and other symbols of the state. + +Indeed, it is the interlocking character of identifications which +reasonably insures the incorporation of the state symbol into the +child’s conception of himself. There is such a process as negative +identification, the rejection of patterns which are connected with +hated persons. The child is usually exposed to many adults and +contemporaries, and if they all associate themselves with the state, +the child is almost certain to reject only those patterns which pertain +exclusively to the hated individuals. This is the fundamental reason +for the staying power of patterns once accepted in a group. + +It has been customary in the psychoanalytical literature on social +and political processes to describe the state as a universal +father-substitute. We are at length in a position to discuss the +problems raised by such a generalization. The distinctive contribution +of the psychopathological approach is the plurality of individual +meanings which it discloses. It is an anticlimax to discover that +the appearance of diversity is, after all, spurious, and that those +who insist upon the strenuous simplification of human motives are +justified. The point which I wish to insist upon is that the data +revealed by the psychopathological procedure are far more significant +for political and social science than this single-track generalization +would lead one to suppose. + +The special value of the psychopathological approach is that it +represents a supermicroscopic method of utilizing individual instances +for the study of culture patterns. If we begin with a political pattern +and view it against the private histories of actual people, we find +that this pattern takes on variable meaning from one individual to +another, but that broad groupings of associated meanings are possible +of ascertainment. Any subjective event which is frequently associated +with a political pattern is important. Valid generalizations depend +upon multiplying cases which are selected from different groups in +the culture, and which are studied by methods capable of disclosing +subjective contexts. This is the point where quantitative procedures +can be made profitable to the student of culture, whose attention is +riveted on patterns whose subjective element is important. + +But are these studies likely to lead to anything valuable if subjective +events are so variable that any subjective event may be associated +with any other subjective event? Why not terminate the investigation +at the outset by saying that the general law of probabilities can be +relied upon to predict the frequency with which any two of a number +of specified subjective events may be expected to occur together? +Is not our empirical inquiry likely to terminate in an inventory +of subjective states and their frequently accompanying movements, +thus foredooming any effort to discover more-frequent-than-chance +simultaneities, antecedents, and successions? If you look long enough, +won’t you find every subjective event associated with every other one? + +A great many facts tend to substantiate this point of view. It is true +that many imposing psychological schools of thought have arisen, run +swiftly for a time in narrow channels, and then stagnated in a shallow +pool of “faculties” or “instincts,” mere inventories of patterns which +are abstracted from all concrete events and which are therefore capable +of being combined in any event in nearly infinite combinations. The +search for specific connections slacks down, and the psychological mill +pond is only stirred when somebody throws a stone in the pool in the +form of a new theory of specific causation, which troubles the waters +until it is found that the specific event is found to occur with only +chance frequency. In this sense the only contributors to psychology +are those who are sufficiently naïve, or sufficiently unscrupulous, +to exaggerate the rôle of a specific type of experience. So we have +psychologies based on “fear” or “love” or “imitation,” or we have a +long string of separate terms, “sub-fears,” which multiply as the range +of concrete observation widens, and the failure of the selected factor +to explain everything is made manifest, or disguised. + +Thus a history of psychology could be written by taking “completed” +systems, analyzing the functional equivalence of the categories +applied, and reducing every new system to a collection of synonyms +for the terms of preceding systems. This hypothetical history of +psychological theories would show how an inquirer, much impressed by +certain experiences, would seize upon certain terms to describe them, +and how, confronted by more and more empirical realities, he would +modify the distinctive meaning of his explanatory conceptions out of +existence. A history of psychoanalytic terminology, such as Rank has +sketched in his treatment of genetic psychology, might be raw material +for such a comparison. + +Would nothing remain but dictionaries of synonyms, all rather dubious +contributions to the grist of linguistic research? It might be that +our projected history would show that each psychological system left +a permanent legacy behind it in the form of a significant “mechanism” +which had not previously been stressed. Now the whole world of +“causation” is implicated in any event, and the whole number of +significant mechanisms which may be discerned in the “mind at a moment” +is infinite. So our hypothetical volume might conclude by accepting the +assumption that some events can be brought about by more than chance +frequency, subject to the reservation that experimental confirmation is +never reliable as to the future. The critical configurations may never +“reappear.” We commonly say that the probability of an event’s future +repetition is greater if it has been oft repeated in the past. But +there is no means of demonstrating that the future contains analogous +configurations to the elapsed. The probability of the future repetition +of an event is “no probability.” If events appear to be predictable, +this is so because our knowledge of contingencies is limited, and our +sequences of similar configurations may still be treated as special +instances of “no sequence.” The stable is a special case of the +unstable, to put the ultimate paradox. The discovery of aggregates +of mechanisms whose rearrangement in short periods would enrich the +apparatus of social control is the dream (the mirage?) of psychology. + +Whether these objections will be well founded depends on the outcome +of the test, and are incapable of dialectical resolution. It may be +pointed out that the search for generalized mechanisms rests on no +firmer logical foundations than the search for subjective sequences, +since mechanisms are likewise aspects of the world of events, and as +such are subject to the same “no probability” laws of recurrence. + +It should be repeated that the aim of life-history investigation is +not to arrive at such thin generalizations as the statement that the +state is a universal father-imago (symbol). What matters to the student +of culture is not the subjective similarities of the species, but the +subjective differences among members of the same and similar cultures. +The life-history configuration is precisely the one which has special +meaning for the study of culture, and has its own valid place as an +object of investigation in the world of events. + + * * * * * + +We may at this point briefly retrace the steps which have been taken in +this monograph. The psychopathological approach has been examined in +its historical setting, and the distinctive value of the free-fantasy +method of using the mind has been illustrated. Its importance, +likewise, for the understanding of political types has been shown with +special reference to the agitators and the administrators. + +The general formula for the developmental history of the political man +employs three terms: + + _p_ } _d_ } _r_ = _P_ + +_p_ equals private motives, _d_ equals displacement on to public +objects, _r_ equals rationalization in terms of public interest. _P_ +signifies the political man, and } means “transformed into.” + +The political man shares the _p_, the private motives which are +organized in the early life of the individual, with every man, and +the _d_, the displacement on to public objects, with some men. The +distinctive mark of the _homo politicus_ is the rationalization of +the displacement in terms of public interests. Political types may be +distinguished according to the specialized or the composite character +of the functions which they perform and which they are desirous of +performing. There are political agitators, administrators, theorists, +and various combinations thereof. There are significant differences in +the developmental history of each political type. + +The hallmark of the agitator is the high value which he places on +the response of the public. As a class the agitators are strongly +narcissistic types. Narcissism is encouraged by obstacles encountered +in the early love relationships, or by overindulgence and admiration +in the family circle. Libido is blocked in moving outward toward +objects and settles back upon the self. Sexual objects which are like +the self are preferred, and a strong homoerotic component is thus +characteristic. Among the agitators yearning for emotional response of +the homoerotic kind is displaced upon generalized objects, and high +value is put on arousing emotional responses from the community at +large. The oratorical agitator, in contradistinction to the publicist, +seems to show a long history of successful impostorship in dealing +with his environment. Agitators differ appreciably in the specificity +or in the generality of the social objects upon which they succeed in +displacing their affects. Those who have been consciously attached +to their parents and who have been successful impostors (“model +children”) are disposed to choose remote and general objects. Those +who have been conscious of suppressing serious grievances against +the intimate circle, and who have been unable to carry off the +impostor’s rôle successfully, are inclined to pick more immediate and +personal substitutes. The rational structure tends toward theoretical +completeness in the former case. The object choices for displaced +affects depend on the models which are offered when the early +identifications are being made. When the homoerotic attitude is the +important one, the assaultive, provocative relation to the environment +is likely to display itself; when the impotence fear is active, +grandiose reactions figure more prominently. + +As a group the administrators are distinguished by the value which they +place upon the co-ordination of effort in continuing activity. They +differ from the agitators in that their affects are displaced on less +remote and abstract objects. In the case of one important group this +failure to achieve abstract objects is due to excessive preoccupation +with specific individuals in the family circle, and to the correlative +difficulty of defining the rôle of the self. Very original and +overdriving administrators show a fundamental pattern which coincides +with that of the agitators. The differences in specific development are +principally due to the culture patterns available for identification +at critical phases of growth. Another group of administrators is +recruited from among those who have passed smoothly through their +developmental crises. They have not overrepressed powerful hostilities, +but either sublimated these drives, or expressed them boldly in the +intimate circle. They display an impersonal interest in the task of +organization itself, and assert themselves with firmness, though not +with overemphasis, in professional and intimate life. Their lack of +interest in abstractions is due to the fact that they have never needed +them as a means of dealing with their emotional problems. They can +take or leave general ideas without using them to arouse widespread +affective responses from the public. Tied neither to abstractions nor +to particular people, they are able to deal with both in a context of +human relations, impersonally conceived. Their affects flow freely; +they are not affectless, but affectively adjusted. + +The psychopathological method was also employed to discover the +significance of political convictions, for it is evident that beliefs +are expressive of a rational and logical “manifest” content, and that +they symbolize a host of private motives. In this connection there +was passed in review the history of a compulsive conformist to the +pattern of the family, and the histories of several nonconformists. The +private meaning of militarism and pacifism, and of the pessimism and +censoriousness of old age, were explored. + +Attention was then turned from the case-history fragments to the +problem of drawing out the implications of intensive personality study +for the theory of the collective political process. + +Political movements derive their vitality from the displacement of +private affects upon public objects. The affects which are organized in +the family are redistributed upon various social objects, such as the +state. Political crises are complicated by the concurrent reactivation +of specific primitive impulses. One might suppose that when important +decisions are in process of being made society would deliberate very +calmly; but the disproportionality between the behavior of man during +wars, revolutions, and elections, and the requirements of rational +thinking is notorious. Evidently a reactivating process is at work +here; there is a regressive tendency to reawaken primitive sadism and +lust. + +Political symbols are particularly adapted to serve as targets for +displaced effect because of their ambiguity of reference, in relation +to individual experience, and because of their general circulation. +Although the dynamic of politics is the tension of individuals, all +tension does not produce political acts. Nor do all emotional bonds +lead to political action. Political acts depend upon the symbolization +of the discontent of the individual in terms of a more inclusive self +which champions a set of demands for social action. + +Political demands are of only a limited relevance to the changes which +will produce permanent reductions in the tension level of society. The +political methods of coercion, exhortation, and discussion assume that +the rôle of politics is to solve conflicts when they have happened. +The ideal of a politics of prevention is to obviate conflict by the +definite reduction of the tension level of society by effective +methods, of which discussion will be but one. The preventive point +of view insists upon a continuing audit of the human consequences of +social acts, and especially of political acts. The achievement of +the ideal of preventive politics depends less upon changes in social +organization than upon improving the methods and the education of the +social administrators and the social scientists. + +The empirical material utilized in the book was brought together in +the course of prolonged interviews with individuals under unusually +intimate conditions. At the present time there are no satisfactory +records of what actually happens under these interview conditions, +and it is important for the future of personality study to improve the +methodology of these procedures. The objectification of what transpires +in the interview can be secured by arranging for a verbatim transcript +of what goes on, and by recording the physical changes which occur. + +Effective personality research depends upon viewing the personality +reactions as a system, and upon perfecting the procedures by which the +substitutive reactions of this system may be exposed. Broadly speaking, +the personality may be treated as a system of object orientations, +adjustive thought, autistic reveries, and somatic reactions. The +problem is to introduce interferences into the system, and to reveal +the substitutive reactions for comparison and further analysis. Every +“fact” about personality events is to be defined from the standpoint +of a specified observer, and a major problem for the future is to +check the “facts” of the observer in the prolonged interview against +the “facts” of observers in other situations. Personality research can +be made more valuable for political science when the adult reactions +are clearly seen which chiefly interest the political scientist (see +Appendix B). + +What, in general terms, is the relationship between research upon the +individual and upon society? There is no cleavage; there is but a +gradation of reference points. Events which are of collective interest +always have an individual locus, and these events may be studied in +their relation to the sequence of events “within the individual” or in +relation to the events “among individuals.” The distinctive event which +serves as the orienting frame for political research is the recognition +of belonging to a community with a system of paramount claims and +expectations. This event, when distributed with sufficient frequency +among the individuals who occupy a given territory during a specified +time period, define the state, which is thus a manifold of events. +Research which studies the order of events “within the individual” or +“among individuals” is equally relevant to the understanding of the +state; the difference is a difference of starting-point and not of +final result. + +When the state is seen as a manifold of events the conditions of whose +occurrence are to be understood, the theoretical foundation is laid +for both the intensive and the distributive inquiries upon which the +politics of prevention can be built. In particular will it be possible +to profit as the years pass, and as psychopathology widens the range of +its investigations, and increases the dependability of its methods. + + + + +APPENDIX A + +SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY + + +The literature of psychoanalysis from its inception to 1926 is +conveniently available in John Rickman’s _Index Psychoanalyticus, +1893-1926_. The _Gesammelte Schriften_ of Sigmund Freud have been +published by the Internationaler Psychoanalytischer Verlag, Vienna, +in eleven volumes. This publishing house puts out most of the +literature of the circle around Freud. Of Freud’s books the beginner +may be referred to his _General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, +The Interpretation of Dreams_, and _Three Contributions to Sexual +Theory_. An English edition of Freud’s collected papers is in +process of publication. The most important technical journal is the +_Internationale Zeitschrift für arztliche Psychoanalyse_. There is an +English journal, _The International Journal of Psycho-Analysis_, and +an American one, _The Psychoanalytic Review_. (A French periodical has +recently appeared.) + +Among the “orthodox” psychoanalytical treatises the following are of +particular importance: + + Ferenczi, S. _Bausteine zur Psychoanalyse_. Leipzig, 1926. + + ----. _Versuch einer Genitaltheorie_. Leipzig, 1924. + + Ferenczi, S., and Hollos, S. _Psychoanalysis and the Psychic + Disorder of General Paresis_, “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph + Series,” No. 42. New York and Washington, 1925. + + The psychological manifestations of a physical disease are + predicted on the basis of the psychoanalytical theory of + personality development. Of great methodological importance. + + Abraham, K. _Klinische Beitrage zur Psychoanalyse aus den Jahren + 1907-20_. Leipzig, etc., 1921. + + ----. _Psychoanalytische Studien zur Charakterbildung_. Leipzig, + etc., 1925. + + The most influential approach to the problem of character + formation. Amplified in many directions by Jones, Glover, etc. + + Alexander, S. _Psychoanalyse der Gesamtpersönlichkeit_. Leipzig, + etc., 1927. + + A notably lucid presentation of the general theory. Recently + translated as _The Psychoanalysis of the Total Personality_ and + published in the “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.” + + Hartmann, H. _Die Grundlagen der Psychoanalyse._ Leipzig, 1927. + + A very important book which views analytical concepts in relation + to the data of experimental psychology. + + Deutsch, Felix. “Experimentelle Studien zur Psychoanalyse,” + _Internationale Zeitschrift_, IX (1923), 484-96. + + Reports the demonstration of the mechanism of repression by the + use of post-hypnotic suggestion. + + Kempf, E. _Psychopathology_. St. Louis, 1921. + + Stresses the function of the autonomic functions, and undertakes + to amplify psychoanalytical theory in this direction. + +Among those who have broken off from Freud, after having been +associated with him, are Stekel, Jung, and Adler. Stekel has published +ten volumes of case histories which are valuable for the beginner +who needs to acquire a sense of what sort of thing the human mind is +capable. The other two are of more theoretical importance. Jung’s +_Psychological Types_ is of the most immediate interest to social +scientists, although his speculations about the “racial unconscious” +are suggestive. Alfred Adler’s standpoint is set out in his _Individual +Psychology_. His circle in Vienna publishes a journal. + +An excellent manual is _The Structure and Meaning of Psychoanalysis_ +(New York, 1930), by William Healy, Augusta F. Bronner, and Anna Mae +Bowers. + +The psychoanalytical movement can be placed in the general perspective +of medical psychology by referring to such a manual as William A. +White’s _Outlines of Psychiatry_ or Bernard Hart’s _Psychopathology_. +There are excellent books in German on medical psychology by Kronfeld, +Birnbaum, Schilder, Kretschmer, and many others. The general movements +in the field can be followed in the _American Journal of Psychiatry_ +or the _Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases_, the latter of which +is edited by William A. White and Smith Ely Jelliffe, who also +supervise the well-known series of books, usually translations, called +the “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.” Pierre Janet’s +_Psychological Healing_ reviews the general history of psychopathology. +Among the innumerable articles and books which undertake to appraise +the clinical and normal implications of psychoanalysis, the symposium +edited by Hans Prinzhorn may be chosen, _Krisis der Psychoanalyse_ +(Leipzig, 1928), Band I (the projected second volume will not appear). +Otto Rank, who has likewise broken with Freud, is publishing a series +of books on the psychoanalytical interview which promises to serve as +a bridge between the general theory and the objective studies of the +interview situation which are in progress in America. + +On the special problem of personality and character types, the volume +by A. A. Roback, _The Psychology of Character_, may be instanced as +a very comprehensive guide to the literature. His _A Bibliography on +Personality_ is also available. An acute analysis of typologies was +offered by O. Selz before the German experimental psychologists in +1923. See the following: + + Selz, O. “Über die Personlichkeitstypen und die Methoden ihrer + Bestimmung,” _Bericht über den VIII. Kongress für experimentelle + Psychologie_. Jena, 1924. + + Klüver, H. “An Analysis of Recent Work on the Problem of + Psychological Types,” _Journal of Nervous and Mental Diseases_, + LXII, No. 6 (December, 1925). + + The current output is reviewed from time to time in relation + to tests by Mark A. May, Gordon W. Allport, and certain other + psychologists who are especially interested in the field. The + _Psychological Index_ can be consulted for the purpose of keeping + abreast of the large quantity of published material. + +The most influential recent book is Kretschmer’s _Physique and +Character_. The somatic factors in personality are stated with charm +and brevity by E. Miller, _Types of Mind and Body_. Useful summary and +critical volumes are by William I. Thomas and Dorothy S. Thomas, _The +Child in America_ (New York, 1928), chapters viii-xiii inclusive, and +by R. G. Gordon, _Personality_ (New York, 1926). + +The psychoanalytical literature which has undertaken to deal with +politics or politicians explicitly may be appended here: + + Pfister, Oskar. “Analytische Untersuchungen über die Psychologie + des Hasses und der Versöhnung,” _Jahrbuch der Psychoanalyse_, II + (1910), 134-78. + + ----. “Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für die Staats- und + Gesellschaftslehre” (Vortrag an VI. Int. Psa. Kong., Hague, + September 8-11, 1920), abstract in _Internationale Zeitschrift_, + VI, 400. + + ----. “Die menschlichen Einigungsbestrebungen im Lichte der + Psychoanalyse,” _Imago_, XII (1926), 126-35. + + The _Imago_ is the psychoanalytical journal which is devoted to + applications of psychoanalytical theory to the interpretation of + culture. + + Sachs, Hanns. “Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für Probleme + der Soziologie” (Vortrag), abstract in _Centralblatt für + Psychoanalyse_, II (1911), 464-69. + + ----. “Ein Traum Bismarcks,” _Internationale Zeitschrift_, I + (1913), 80-83. + + Sachs, Hanns, and Rank, Otto. _Die Bedeutung der Psychoanalyse für + die Geisteswissenschaften._ Wiesbaden, 1913. + + This was published in the “Grenzfragen des Nerven und + Seelenlebens,” No. 93, a series which contains many volumes + of great interest to social scientists. Kretschmer now is the + responsible editor. The book also appears as No. 23 in the + “Nervous and Mental Disease Monograph Series.” + + Rank, Otto. “Der ‘Familienroman’ in der Psychologie des + Attentäters,” _Der Künstler_ (virte vermehrte Auflage; Leipzig, + etc., 1925), pp. 142-48. + + This fragment first appeared in 1911. + + Storfer, A. J. “Zur Sonderstellung des Vatermordes.” Leipzig, etc., + 1911. + + Parricide and regicide are punished with unusual severity in + different legal systems. + + Abraham, Karl. “Amenhotep IV (Echnaton),” _Imago_, I (1912), 334-60. + + One of the earliest applications of analytical concepts to a + historical personage. + + Freud, Sigmund. _Totem und Taboo_. Leipzig, etc., 1913. + + Outlines his hypothesis of the origin of culture in an original + parricide by a band of revolting brothers, who resented the + monopoly of the females by the old man of the tribe, and who + undertook to repress memories of the crime. See the discussion by + Malinowski of this hypothesis in _Sex and Repression in Savage + Society_ (New York, 1927). + + ----. “Zeitgemässes über Krieg und Tod,” _Imago_, IV (1915-16), + 1-21. + + ----. _Massenpsychologie und Ich-Analyse_. Leipzig, etc., 1921. + + An application of Freud’s theories to the psychology of crowds + and social institutions. See William McDougall, “Professor + Freud’s Group Psychology and His Theory of Suggestion,” chapter + xvii of _Problems of Personality_ (ed. Campbell and others; New + York, 1925). + + ----. _Unbehagen der Kultur_. Leipzig, etc., 1929. + + Jekels, Ludwig. “Der Wendepunkt im Leben Napoleons I,” _Imago_, III + (1914), 313-81. + + Kaplan, Leo. “Der tragische Held und der Verbrecher,” _ibid._, IV + (1915), 96-124. + + Jones, Ernest. “War and Sublimation.” Read before the British + Association for the Advancement of Science, Section of Physiology, + September 10, 1915; published in _Reports_ of the Association, + LXXXV, 699 ff. + + ----. (ed.). _The Social Aspects of Psychoanalysis_. London, 1923. + + Tausk, Viktor. “Zur Psychologie des Deserteurs,” _Zeitschrift_, IV + (1916-17), 193-204, 228-40. + + Blüher, Hans. _Die Rolle der Erotik in der männlichen + Gesellschaft_. 2 vols. Jena, 1917. + + Bernfeld, Siegfried. “Die Psychoanalyse in der Jugendbewegung,” + _Imago_, V (1919), 283-89. + + ----. “Über eine typische Form der männlichen Pubertät,” _ibid._, + IX (1923), 169-188. + + Federn, Paul. _Die Vaterlose Gesellschaft_. Leipzig, etc., 1919. + + Clark, L. Pierce. “A Psychologic Study of Abraham Lincoln,” + _ibid._, VIII (1921), 1-21. + + ----. “A Psycho-historical Study of the Epileptic Personality in + the Genius,” _ibid._, IX (1922), 367-401. + + ----. “The Narcism of Alexander the Great,” _Ibid._, X (1923), + 156-69. + + ----. _Napoleon: Self-Destroyed_. New York, 1929. + + Kolnai, Aurel. _Psychoanalyse und Soziologie_. Leipzig, etc., 1920. + + Lazell, Edward W. “Psychology of War and Schizophrenia,” + _Psychoanalytic Review_, VII (1920), 224-45. + + Rinaldo, Joel. _The Psychoanalysis of the Reformer_. New York, 1921. + + White, William A. _Thoughts of a Psychiatrist on the War and + After_. New York, 1919. + + Low, Barbara. “Civic Ideals: Some Psycho-analytical + Considerations,” _Sociological Review_, 1922. + + Boven, William. “Alexander der Grosse,” _Imago_, VIII (1922), + 418-39. + + Berger, G. “Zur Theorie der menschlichen Feindseligkeit,” _ibid._, + IX (1923), 344-67. + + Lorenz, Emil. _Der politische mythus, Beitrage zur mythologie der + Kultur_. Leipzig, etc., 1923. + + Illustrates the state-father relationship from the lore and + literature of many cultures. + + Reik, Theodor. _Geständniszwang und Strafbedürfnis: Probleme der + Psychoanalyse und der Kriminologie_. Leipzig, etc., 1925. + + Outlines in masterly fashion the implications of the need for + punishment and the compulsion to confess for criminology. + Reik has also published extensively on religion from the + psychoanalytical standpoint. + + Kohn, Erwin, _Lasalle der Führer_. Leipzig, etc., 1926. + + Alexander, Franz, and Staub, Hugo. _Der Verbrecher und seine + Richter_. Vienna, 1929. + + A sketch of criminology from the psychoanalytical standpoint, + drawing heavily on Alexander’s conception of the neurotic + character, as distinguished from the neurotics who show hysteric + or compulsive symptoms. + + Friedjung, Josef K. “Zur Psychologie des kleinen Politikers,” + _Imago_, XIV (1928), 498-501. + +Among those who have undertaken from allied fields to apply +psychoanalytic viewpoints may be mentioned William F. Ogburn, who read +a paper before the economists in 1918; Thomas D. Eliot, sociologist; +Harry Elmer Barnes, historical sociologist; E. D. Martin, social +psychologist; Preserved Smith, historian; R. V. Harlow, historian; +W. H. R. Rivers, ethnologist; and Theodore Schroeder, lawyer. See +especially: + + Barnes, Harry Elmer. _The New History and the Social Studies_, + chap. iii. New York, 1925. + + Discusses the bibliography in English. + + Swoboda, Hermann. “Zur Psychologie des Parlamentarismus,” + _Oesterreichische Rundschau_, Band XIV, Heft 1, January 1, 1908. + + ----. “Die Kunst des Regierens,” _ibid._, Band XVII, December 15, + 1908. + + ----. “Der Volksvertreter,” _ibid._, Band XXXII, Heft 3, August 1, + 1912. + + These articles of Swoboda are the first well-considered + applications of psychoanalysis to politics by a non-specialist. + The first article treats the rôle of parliamentarism as + “catharsis,” and specifically refers to the work of Breuer and + Freud. + +Aside from specifically psychoanalytical efforts to interpret +individuals and collective trends, there have been many efforts on the +part of other psychiatrists and physicians, or their followers, to +offer such interpretations. The whole literature of “pathography” is +abstracted and discussed here: + + Lange-Eichbaum, Wilhelm. _Genie-Irrsinn, und Ruhm._ Leipzig, 1928. + +Students of politics will be most interested in the references and +abstracts concerning Rousseau, Alexander the Great, Amenhotep IV, +Bismarck, Blücher, emperors and princes, Frederick the Great, Lincoln, +Loyola, Ludwig II of Bavaria, Napoleon, and Robespierre. Möbius put +“pathography” on a scientific basis. The following is one of the best +of the “pathographies,” since it stresses the diseased aspects of +the personality in the perspective of the total development of the +subject’s career: + + Heidenhain, Adolf, _J.-J. Rousseau, Persönlichkeit, Philosophie and + Psychose_, “Grenzfragen des Nerven-und Seelenlebens,” Heft 117. + Munich, 1924. + +The study of the effect of individual pathology on culture, and of +culture upon individual pathology, is envisaged as a program in the +following: + + Birnbaum, Karl. _Grundzüge der Kulturpsychopathologie_, + “Grenzfragen des Nerven- und Seelenlebens,” Heft 116. Munich, 1924. + +The reckless extension of individual pathological terms to the state of +society as a whole has caused much confusion, but a case can be made +out for a valid use of the concept of the pathological. Thus: + + Schneersohn, F. “Zur Grundlegung einer Völker- und + Massenpsychopathologie (Soziopsychopathologie),” _Ethos_, I + (1925-26), 81-120. + + This includes an exhaustive bibliography of the efforts of + psychiatrists to extend their conceptions to society, and a + detailed consideration of the methodological issues involved. + +Special attention should be called to the forthcoming volume by Harry +Stack Sullivan on _Personal Psychopathology_ in which a systematic +treatment of the whole field of psychiatry and sociology is presented. +Dr. Sullivan has vastly stimulated a _rapprochement_ between physician +and social scientist in the United States. See the _Proceedings_ of +the two colloquiums on personality investigation, held under the +auspices of the American Psychiatric Association, first published in +the _American Journal of Psychiatry_ for May, 1929, and May, 1930, and +separately obtainable. + + + + +APPENDIX B + +QUESTION LIST ON POLITICAL PRACTICES + + +This question list refers directly to the organized political life of +the subject. Questions which are designed to elicit preferences are not +included. For general personality questions and trait lists, the usual +sources may be consulted for suggestions.[85] + +The question list here must, of course, be modified if used orally or +with naïve subjects. An effort is always to be made to elicit specific +incidents which arise in the mind. “Reminiscences” and not theories +about the self are desired. + + 1. List the various associations and organizations of which you + have been a member and in which you enjoyed rights which were + approximately equal to those exercised by everyone else. Specify + in each case whether you were almost inactive, moderately active, + quite active. State when you became a member and how your + subsequent activity fluctuated. Give dates when possible. Remember + that you have been a member of various democratically organized + political units. Mention also the prep-school class organizations, + school and college organizations, alumni associations, profession + organizations, civic associations, parties, and elective public + offices. Organizations which were autocratically organized (that + is, which exercised authority over those who had no formal right + to choose the officials) should not be included. Do not omit + associations of war veterans, Daughters or Sons of the Revolution, + pacifists, anarchists, reform agitators, constitutional defense + leagues, etc. + + 2. List the various organizations with which you have been + associated either as one in autocratic authority or as one subject + to autocratic authority. This should include schools which you + have attended, appointive offices in the government, most business + connections, trusteeships, etc. + + 3. List your various free-lance activities which have involved + scarcely any organization but which have been a source of income. + Partnerships which have involved practically no staff, private + secretaryships, and such are meant to be listed here. + +The following questions are intended to bring out the salient facts in +connection with your relationship to each democratically organized and +autocratically organized association or institution with which you were +affiliated. Answer for each organization which you have listed in so +far as applicable. + + 4. Just how did you become a member of this organization? What + steps did you take? Who helped you? Why were you taken in? If + you organized this body, why did you do it? When did you first + entertain the idea? How did your plans develop? What assistance + did you get and by what means? What was your reputation inside + the organization when you first came in? Were you, for instance, + ignored or regarded as promising or accepted and given + responsibility immediately? + + 5. What friends or enemies did you have inside the organization + when you first came into it? + + 6. To what offices or positions of authority in the organization + were you elected or appointed? + + 7. In each case explain how it came about. When did you first + entertain the idea that selection was possible? How much did you + hesitate and ponder before deciding to try for the position or + before accepting it if it was thrust upon you? What alternatives + did you consider? With whom did you talk over the matter? What was + urged on you? What were the disadvantages which deterred you or + the advantages which lured you? Just what did you do to get the + office or position? Who were your chief aids? Who were your chief + competitors? What were the points in your favor and in favor of the + others? How did the various cliques, groups, and other components + of the organization line up? Sketch your strategy and practices in + dealing with each one before selection. Did any issues of policy + figure and how? + + 8. What were the cases in which you ran or were considered at one + stage or another for selection? Answer the questions as before for + each instance. + + 9. What appointive power or influence did you exercise in office? + Whom did you consult in making or influencing these appointments? + To what extent did you consider competence? The rewarding of + friends? The division or elimination of your opponents? + + 10. What objectives, if any, had you thought out when you assumed + responsibility? + + 11. What were the chief issues on which you took a position? How + did your influence make itself felt in each instance (in public + speaking, interviewing, appointive pressure, etc.)? How did each + major issue happen to emerge? How did you arrive at your position? + Whom did you consult? What considerations were balanced on both + sides of the question? To what extent did you make issues by + interjecting specific proposals into the situation? How did you + happen to do this? What were the elements in the organization which + were lined up on either side of the question? What concessions + did you make in order to achieve your ends? Do you regard your + concessions as too cheaply bought as you look back upon them? What + results did you secure which satisfy you? + + 12. During your tenure were there personal misunderstandings, + quarrels, and hatreds between you and anybody? How did they come + about? What did you do and what was the relation of what you did to + what happened? + + 13. Were there personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and + antipathies among others inside the organization which you were + asked to settle or which you tried to settle? What did you do and + what relation did it bear to what finally happened? + + 14. Were there personal misunderstandings, quarrels, and + antipathies between members of your own organization and people in + other organizations which you were asked to settle or which you + tried to settle? What did you do and what relation did it bear to + what finally happened? + + 15. Did your organization have any ill feelings as a body for other + organizations or groups when you came into office? What did you do + to inflame or reduce it? What effect? Why? + + 16. Did your organization have any friendly feelings as a body for + other organizations or groups? What did you do to cement or to + disrupt these relations? Why? With what effect on the course of + events? + + 17. Did your organization develop any friendly or unfriendly + relations with organizations or groups to which they had been + previously indifferent during your term in office? What did you do + that had anything to do with this result? Why? + + 18. Did your organization use physical, legal, or other forms of + pressure upon any other organization or group during your term? + What was your rôle in suggesting, supporting, directing, or + obstructing the adoption of these tactics? Why? What resulted? + + 19. Did your organization use physical, legal, economic, or other + forms of pressure upon any of its own members during your term? + What was your rôle in suggesting, supporting, directing, or + obstructing the adoption of these tactics? Why? With what effect? + + 20. By whom were you praised during and after your term of office + for your record? How were you praised or recognized and honored and + for what? Effect on you? + + 21. By whom were you adversely criticized during and after your + term in office for your record? How were you censured and for what? + Effect on you? + + 22. Were you re-elected or reappointed, promoted or demoted, after + serving your term or before? Why? + + 23. How did you get along with your immediate superiors, + collaborators, and assistants? To what extent did you manipulate + them? What different tactics did you employ with each? What success? + + 24. What were your formal and ceremonial duties in the organization + as an officer? Did you enjoy them? + + 25. How did you enjoy your other official activities? + + 26. As a non-official, or non-position-holding member of the + organization, what did you enjoy about it? The ceremonies? The + routine operations? The uncertain features? + + 27. As a member of the rank and file, what policies and activities + did you initiate, support, or oppose? Why? How much did you do and + to what effect? How did the elements of the organization line up? + Were you usually in the minority or the majority? What elements + were usually with you? + + 28. How did your reputation change during your years in the + organizations? + + 29. What particular friends and enemies did you acquire? + + 30. As a member of the rank and file, did you have personal + misunderstandings, quarrels, and hatreds between you and other + members? Why? What did you do? Results? + + 31. Did you arbitrate any grievances or try to smooth them out? + Success? Why? + + 32. What was your attitude toward other organizations or groups + with which your organization either competed or had some relations? + As a member of the rank and file, what did you do to change or + intensify prevailing attitudes? Influence? + + 33. Did your organization use physical or other means of + pressure against outside organizations and other members of your + organization? As a member of the rank and file, what did you do and + with what effect? Did you think your organization was the best of + its kind? + + 34. Have you severed your connection or become inactive? Why? + + 35. If you are still active, what are your plans and hopes? + + 36. How did this particular organization touch the administrative, + legislative, and judicial branches of the government? The political + parties? How? What methods were used to bring pressure to bear? + What was your part in them? + + 37. As you look back on your life in the organization do you think + of practices which you indulged in or tolerated which you regard + as perhaps questionable? Instances? Did you so regard them at the + time? What would have happened if you had not indulged in them? + Should an organization be run on a different basis now? + + 38. What effect did life in the organization have upon your + activity in the politics of the community at large? Did you have + impulses to express yourself publicly or privately upon matters + which you felt it expedient to follow? Or were you driven to such + expression and activity? + + 39. If you were to judge entirely in terms of your experience as + a member of this organization, what would be your judgment of the + honesty and efficiency of the public service and the party machine? + + 40. What political prejudices or philosophies were current among + various elements inside the organization? + + 41. Think of various members of this organization who were rather + typical. How did you act toward them when you met them? What topics + of conversation, of anecdote, etc., did you indulge in? What + activities in common were there? + + 42. Did you think that you were imposed upon by any members as you + look back upon it now? Did you estimate some of them too highly? + Who? Why? + + 43. Did you underestimate some? Who? Why? + + 44. Were you estimated too high or too low? By whom? Why? + + 45. What things apart from common dishonesty would have caused you + to lose standing in the organization? What opinions and activities + would have compromised you? + + 46. Did you risk loss of standing at any time by word or deed? Were + you tempted to? Why did you refrain? + + 47. When you tried to add others to the organization, whom did you + seek? What type of people, in general, were you interested in? + + 48. Did the organization live up to your ideal? Why? + + 49. Who were the most powerful ones in the organization at + different periods? What were your relations with them? What did you + do consciously to win them? Success? What did you do to antagonize + them? How did they take it? What, in short, was the attitude of the + leaders toward you? + + 50. Did you ever have a sense of frustration arising from your + failure to participate in discussions of policy, either because you + hesitated to express yourself or because you expressed yourself + badly? + + 51. What is your matured judgment of the utility of this + organization in society? + + 52. How did your organization connections help or hurt you socially + or any other way? + + 53. How did your outside connections help or hurt you in the + organization? + + 54. What, generally speaking, were your advantages and + disadvantages with reference to securing and holding a prominent + position in the organization? + + 55. In general, what place did this organization play in your life? + + 56. With respect to each one of your so-called free-lance or very + personal activities, answer such questions as these: How did you + happen to take it up? Upon what factors would your success and + failure depend? What did you do to manage the persons upon whom + success or failure depended? With what result? What reaction + did your experience have upon your outlook upon political life + generally? + + + + +INDEX + + + Abraham, Karl, 103, 150 n. + + Adjustive thinking, 226 + + Adler, Alfred, 71 ff. + + Administrators: + definition and histories of, 127 ff.; + general theory of, 151 ff. + + Adolescence and politics, 187 + + Agitators: + definition and histories of, 78 ff.; + general theory of, 124 ff. + + Aichhorn, August, 230 + + Alexander, Franz, 139, 178, 182, 199, 220 n., 254 + + Allport, Floyd, 58 + + Anderson, John, 232 + + Apfelbach, Hans, 61, 62, 64 + + Aristotle, 39 + + Attitudes, 234 ff. + + Autistic reveries, 226 + + + Bernfeld, S., 177 + + Bernheim, 20 + + Biography, political, uses and limitations of, 3 + + Birnbaum, K., 200 n. + + Bjerre, 239 + + Blackstone, 175 + + Bleuler, 71 + + Blondel, 11 + + Blüher, Hans, 178 n. + + Boas, 13 + + Bodin, 54 + + Boss, 48 + + Breuer, 19 + + Bridgman, P. W., 251 n. + + Brücke, 18 + + Bryce, 252 + + Bühler, Charlotte, 230 + + Burrow, Trigant, 201 n. + + + Carlyle, 42 + + Case histories, 3 ff., 78 ff. + + Catharsis, 195 + + Catlin, G. E. G., 46 + + Charcot, 18 + + Chave, 59 n. + + Chicago, University of, 13, 201 n., 207 n. + + Christensen, 39, 53 n. + + Composite types, 53 + + Comte, 10 + + Consensus, 192 + + Convictions, political, 153 ff. + + Conway, 52, 53 n. + + Co-relational types, 55 + + Cowley, W. H., 59 + + Crises, political, 179 ff. + + Croner, Else, 232 n. + + Crowd, 193 n. + + + Debate, zone of, 192 + + De Grange, 10 n. + + Democracy, 194 ff. + + Despot, 46 + + Deutsch, Helene, 123 n. + + Developmental types, 60 + + Dicey, 1 + + Dictator, 197 + + Dilthey, 11, 49 + + Discussion, 194 ff. + + Dream, 26 + + Durkheim, 10 + + + Eder, 173, 181, 190 + + Education, 201 + + Ellis, Havelock, 83 n., 199 + + Emotional bonds, 185, 192 + + Energy of developed personality, 65 + + Events, subjective and external, 240 ff. + + Exhortation, 196 + + + Fabian Society, 186 + + Familiarization, a purpose of the study, 14 + + Federn, Paul, 180, 234 + + Ferenczi, S., 71, 97, 103 n., 105 n., 150 n., 213, 220 n., 255 + + Fliess, 62, 69 + + Follett, Mary L., 48 + + Forms of expression, thought and interest, 235 ff. + + Formula for development of political man, 75 + + Frazer, 73 + + Free-fantasy, 32 + + Freud, 12, 17 ff., 64, 65 ff., 103, 104 n., 111 n., 179 n., 199, 204 + ff., 223, 256 ff. + + Friendship and politics, 192 + + Functional meaning of politics, 42 + + + Garner, J. W., 2 + + Giese, Fritz, 55, 56, 57, 60 + + Glover, E., 103 n. + + Gneist, 1 + + Goodenough, Florence, 229 + + Gosnell, H. F., 53 n., 249 n. + + Gould, 7 n. + + + Hall, G. Stanley, 71 + + Hamilton, G. V., 70 + + Hartman, Dale, 59 n. + + Healy, William, 13 + + Heimsoth, K. G., 178 + + Hetzer, Hildegard, 231 + + Hobbes, 54 + + Hoffmann, 232 + + _Homo politicus_, 50 + + Hoover, 54 + + Hypnosis, 20 + + + Identification, 256 + + Institutional meaning of politics, 42 + + Interview as a method, 204 ff. + + Intimacy and politics, 187 + + Ireland, 7 n. + + Irrationality and politics, 184, 193 ff. + + + Janet, Pierre, 18, 104 n., 223 + + Jellinek, 2 + + Jones, E., 103 n., 179 n. + + Jung, 62 ff., 73 ff., 205 + + + Keilholz, A., 179 n. + + Kelsen, Hans, 2, 243 ff., 257 ff. + + Kempf, E. J., 115 n., 159 n., 197 + + Kjellén, 2 + + Koller, 19 + + Kretschmer, 40, 81 + + Kropotkin, 92 + + + Laband, 1 + + Lange-Eichbaum, W., 7 n., 200 n. + + Laski, H. J., 2 + + Lassalle, 53 + + Lasswell, H. D., 3 n., 28 n., 39 n., 202 n., 204 n., 205 n., 221 n. + + Lazarus, 12 + + Lee, Sir Edward, 1 + + Lenin, 54 + + Liébeault, 20 + + Logical thought, limitations of, 28 ff. + + Lombroso, 7 n. + + Lowell, A. L., 53 n., 191 + + Lowie, R. H., 243 + + Lynd, R. S. and Helen, 250 n. + + + Machiavelli, 39 + + Marx, Karl, 53 + + Masaryk, 53, 220 + + Masturbation, cultural history of, 83 n. + + Meaning of political patterns, 248 + + Mechanism types, 63 + + Merriam, Charles E., 39, 46, 52, 53 n., 59, 249 n. + + Meynart, 18 + + Michels, Robert, 39, 52, 53 n., 60 + + Möbius, 7 n. + + Moore, Henry T., 58 + + Morgan, J. P., & Co., 45 + + Morley, John, 1 + + Movements, vitality of political, 173 ff. + + Mowrer, E. A., 180 + + Munro, W. B., 40, 53 n. + + + Nancy, 20 + + Nexo, 186 + + Nuclear types, 49 + + Nunberg, 220 n. + + + Object orientation, 225 + + Old Testament prophets, 54 + + + Paine, Tom, 54 + + Paley, 174 + + Park, Robert E., 192, 193 n. + + Parten, Mildred, 230 + + Pathological, 200 + + Personality, 221 + + Persuasion, personal, oratorical and written, 188 + + Political methods, 196 + + Political movements, 173 ff. + + Political patterns, 248 ff. + + Political practices, 235 + + Political symbolization, 183 ff. + + Political tension level, 185 + + Political types, 38 ff. + + Politician, 47 + + Politics: + and conflict, 196; + effect of, on politicians, 198; + institutional and functional meaning of, 42 + + Prevention, politics of, 173 ff. + + Propaganda and unconscious motives, 189 + + Psychoanalysis, 15 + + Psychopathology, 15 + + Public, 193 n. + + + Quantitative approach, 251 + + + Radiating nucleus, 187 + + Radin, Paul, 13 + + Rado, S., 179 n. + + Rank, O., 74, 205, 220 n. + + Reactive interpretation, 222 + + Reich, Wilhelm, 105 n. + + Reik, Theodor, 175, 213 + + Reininger, Karl, 231 + + Revolution, 179 + + Rice, S. A., 41 + + Rich, Gilbert J., 59 + + Rinaldo, Joel, 104 n. + + Rohmer, 53 n. + + Rôles, specialized and composite, 54 + + Rousseau, 54 + + Ruggiero, 40 + + Ruml, B., 201 n. + + Rush, 199 + + + Sadger, Wilhelm, 103 n. + + Schmidt, 2 + + Sexuality, rôle of, 66 ff. + + Shaw, Bernard, 78 + + Sidgwick, 2 + + Simmel, Georg, 11, 52 + + Smith, Adam, 48 + + Social scientist, 201 + + Somatic reactions, 226 + + Specialized types, 53 + + Spranger, Eduard, 49 ff., 232 n. + + Statesman, 46 + + Staub, 182, 254 + + Steindhal, 12 + + Stekel, Wilhelm, 71, 74, 157 + + Strachey, Lytton, 1 + + Sullivan, Harry Stack, 126 n., 207 n., 233 n. + + Sward Keith, 59 n. + + Symbolization in politics, 185 ff. + + Symbols, political, as targets of displacement, 183 + + + Tendency interpretations, 221 + + Tension level, 185 + + Thomas, Dorothy S., 229, 230 n. + + Thomas, W. I., 12, 188, 230 n. + + Thurstone, L. L., 59 + + Tissot, 83 n. + + Types: + co-relational, 55; + developmental, 60; + institutional and functional, 42; + nuclear, 49; + specialized and composite, 53 + + Typologies, popular and scientific, 39 + + + Values, changes of, 201 + + Vienna, University of, 18 + + Vierkandt, 12 + + Views, political, 234 ff. + + Violence a political method, 196 + + Voltaire, 83 n. + + + Wagner-Jauregg, 19 + + Walker, Marjorie, 230 + + Wallas, Graham, 46 + + Weber, Max, 39, 52 + + Weininger, 62 + + Wertheimer and Hesketh, 81 + + White, William A., 179 n. + + Willoughby, W. W., 2 + + Winkler, Viktor, 231 + + Wittals, Fritz, 22 + + Wordsworth, W., 70 + + + Zilboorg, Gregory, 123 + + Znaniecki, F., 12 + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +[1] See Harold D. Lasswell, “The Study of the Ill as a Method of +Research on Political Personalities,” _American Political Science +Review_, November, 1929. + +[2] “Psychosis” means the more serious mental disturbances; “neurosis” +means the less serious ones. + +[3] The best summary of this literature is Wilhelm Lange-Eichbaum, +_Genie-Irrsinn und Ruhm_. See also the works of Ireland, Lombroso, +Möbius, and Gould. + +[4] See De Grange’s excellent treatment of this matter in his paper on +the methodology of Comte in the case book to be published by the Social +Science Research Council. + +[5] What has been said above is current in the biography of Freud by +Fritz Wittals, and in Freud’s autobiographical sketches. + +[6] Modified from “Self-Analysis and Judicial Thinking,” _International +Journal of Ethics_, April, 1930. + +[7] The training should, of course, be conducted by a specialist alert +to his responsibilities. + +[8] “Politik als Beruf,” in _Gesammelte Schriften_. + +[9] I summarized some of this literature in “Types of Political +Personalities,” _Proceedings of the American Sociological Society, +1927_. Reprinted in _Personality and the Group_ (edited by Burgess). + +[10] _Personality in Politics._ + +[11] _The History of European Liberalism._ + +[12] _Physique and Character_, chap. xiii. + +[13] _Quantitative Methods in Politics_, chap. v. + +[14] _The Science and Method of Politics._ + +[15] _The New State._ + +[16] It is not profitable to pursue these distinctions farther. I +should prefer to distinguish the statesman from the politician by +treating the latter as a function of a democratically organized +community and as one who is limited to persuasion in the advancement of +his conceptions of public right. The statesman may use force, and is +not necessarily a function of democratically organized society. + +[17] His viewpoint is best expressed in “Die Typen der Weltanschauung,” +in _Weltanschauung-Philosophie und Religion in Darstellungen_ (edited +by M. Frischeisen-Kohler). + +[18] _Soziologie_, chap. iii. + +[19] _Grundriss der Sozialökonomik_, III, 1. + +[20] See Robert Michels, _Political Parties_; C. E. Merriam, _American +Party System_, and _Introduction_ to H. F. Gosnell’s _Boss Platt and +His New York Machine_; Martin Conway, _Instincts of the Herd in Peace +and War_; Lowell, _Public Opinion in War and Peace_; Rohmer, _Die Vier +Parteien_; A. Christensen, _Politics and Crowd Morality_; W. B. Munro, +_Personality in Politics_. + +[21] _Die öffentliche Persönlichkeit._ Beihefte zur _Zeitschrift für +angewandte Psychologie_, Vol. XLIV. + +[22] “Innate Factors in Radicalism and Conservatism,” _Journal of +Abnormal and Social Psychology_, XX (1925-26), 234-44. + +[23] Allport really used a rank-order method of handling opinion +expressions which he unjustifiably treated as marking definite +positions along a base line. Thurstone has greatly improved the +technique of opinion measurement. See Thurstone and Chave, _The +Measurement of Attitude_ (Chicago, 1929). For Allport’s original paper +(with D. A. Hartman), see “Measurement and Motivation of Atypical +Opinion in a Certain Group,” _American Political Science Review_, XIX +(1925), 735-60. + +[24] “Three Distinctions in the Study of Leaders,” _Journal of +Abnormal and Social Psychology_, Vol. XXIII (July-September, 1928). + +[25] By Keith Sward, Social Science Research Council Fellow, and +others. I discuss the problem of evaluating test results later on. + +[26] “A Biochemical Approach to the Study of Personality,” _Journal of +Abnormal and Social Psychology_, Vol. XXIII (July-September, 1928). + +[27] Hans Apfelbach, _Der Aufbau des Charakters_. Cf. Otto Weininger, +_Geschlecht und Charakter_; Fliess, _Ablauf des Lebens_. + +[28] C. G. Jung, _Psychological Types_, chap. x. + +[29] _Beyond the Pleasure Principle._ + +[30] “The Significance of Physical Constitution in Mental Disease,” +_Medicine_, V (1926), 375-451. + +[31] The popular superstition about the dangers of masturbation seems +to have become widespread in Western Europe in the eighteenth century. +Havelock Ellis dates it from the appearance of a sensational book by +an anonymous English doctor which was called _Onania: or the Heinous +Sin of Self-Pollution and All Its Frightful Consequences in Both Sexes, +Considered, with Spiritual and Physical Advice, etc._ This is said to +have passed through eighty editions and to have been translated into +German. Tissot, a physician of Lausanne, contributed his _Traité_ on +the same subject in Latin in 1760. This appeared in French four years +later, and subsequently in nearly all European languages. His watchword +was that masturbation was a crime, “an act of suicide.” Voltaire +popularized his viewpoint in the _Dictionnaire philosophique_, and +the tradition became firmly set. See Havelock Ellis, _Studies in the +Psychology of Sex_, I, 248-49. The cultural relativity of this attitude +toward masturbation is brought out in ethnological reports. + +[32] _Psychoanalytische Studien zur Charakterbildung_ (International +Psychoanalytische Bibliothek, 1925), Nr. XVI. Freud’s first +contribution to the subject was published in 1908. His brief article, +“Charakter and Analerotik,” is reprinted in the fifth volume of the +_Gesammelte Schriften_. Others who have written in the same field are +Sadger, Ferenczi, Jones, and E. Glover. + +[33] Joel Rinaldo paraphrases Freud in his _Psychoanalysis of the +“Reformer”_ and without supporting cases argues that the reformer is +always a meddling hysteric. This is not to be taken for granted, for +he may more often prove to be an obsessive type, when he shows mental +pathology. For the best picture of the two clinical types, see Janet, +_Les névroses_. + +[34] See Ferenczi, _Versuch einer Genitaltheorie_ (Internationale +Psychoanalytische Bibliothek, 1924), Band XV, esp. Sec. V. Also Wilhelm +Reich, _Die Funktion des Orgasmus_. + +[35] See Freud’s discussion of paranoia in his “Psychoanalytische +Bemerkungen über einen autobiographisch beschriebenen Fall von +Paranoia,” _Gesammelte Schriften_, Band VIII. + +[36] This grandfather committed suicide at an unreported age, and his +youngest son is said to be “very nervous.” B’s oldest sister had a +nervous breakdown in high school. The third sister is “neurotic.” B is +described as having been a frail infant, and a shy child. Bed-wetting +continued until he was twelve or fourteen, and he occasionally had +attacks of indigestion. Physical examination failed to disclose any +significant physical factor in his difficulties. + +[37] Examples are given in Kempf’s _Psychopathology_, and in other +textbooks on the subject. + +[38] See Helene Deutsch, _Psychoanalyse der weiblichen Sexualfunction_. + +[39] See “The Dynamics of Schizophrenic Reactions Related to Pregnancy +and Childbirth,” _American Journal of Psychiatry_, VIII (1929), 733-66. + +[40] The physician in charge of this case comments that there may be a +homosexual _anlage_ on the physical level, but that this is not certain. + +[41] Harry Stack Sullivan has stressed the critical importance for +personality growth of the adolescent phase in which the individual is +impelled to enter into intimate emotional relations with one or two +other persons of his own age. Those who partially fail in this show +various warps in their subsequent development. + +[42] “Der neurotische Charakter,” _Internationale Zeitschrift für +Psychoanalyse_, XIV (1928), 26-44. + +[43] Abraham and Ferenczi have reported cases of this kind. + +[44] _Op. cit._, p. 448. + +[45] See the chapter on “Psycho-analysis in Relation to Politics” in +_Social Aspects of Psycho-Analysis_ (London, 1924). + +[46] “Dogma und Zwangsidee,” _Imago_, XIII (1927), 247-382. + +[47] Succinctly described in “Über eine typische Form der männlichen +pubertät,” _Imago_, IX (1923), 169 ff. On the homoerotic elements +see Hans Blüher, _Die deutsche Wandervogelbewegung als erotisches +Phänomen_, and his more elaborate volume cited in the Bibliography. + +[48] I was kindly permitted to see this manuscript which is not yet +published. + +[49] See Sandor Rado, “Die psychischen Wirkungen der Rauschgifte,” +_Internationale Zeitschrift für Psychoanalyse_, XII (1926), 540-56; A. +Keilholz, “Analyseversuch bei Delirium Tremens,” _ibid._, pp. 478-92; +and Stekel’s volumes. + +[50] For a sketch of the unconscious processes involved in warfare see +S. Freud, “Zeitgemässes über Krieg und Tod,” _Imago_, IV (1915-16), +1-21; Ernest Jones, _Essays in Psycho-Analysis_; William A. White, +_Thoughts of a Psychiatrist on the War and After_. + +[51] _Chicago Daily News_, July 20, 1927. + +[52] The distinction between the crowd and the public is best developed +in the writings of Robert E. Park. Freud undertook to explain the crowd +on the theory that an emotional bond was forged by identification +of the individual with a leader, and by a process of partial +identification through the perception of this similar relationship +to the leader. He set out from the observation that when people are +interacting upon one another they behave differently than when they +are alone. The loss of individuality represents a relinquishment +of narcissistic gratification which can only come when libido is +directed outward toward objects. Freud’s theory applies strictly to +a special case of crowd behavior only. Crowd states may also arise +when interlocking partial identifications occur on the perception of +a common threat. Crowd behavior often arises before anybody assumes a +“leading” rôle, and rival leaders are “selected” by the crowd. + +[53] _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_, I, 231. + +[54] Kempf, _Psychopathology_, p. 704. + +[55] Franz Alexander, “Mental Hygiene and Criminology,” _First +International Congress on Mental Hygiene_. + +[56] For an appreciation of the rôle of the pathological person in +society see Wilhelm Lange-Eichbaum, _Genie-Irrsinn, und Ruhm_, and Karl +Birnbaum, _Grundzüge der Kulturpsychopathologie_. + +[57] Something like this is no doubt the thought in Trigant Burrow’s +very obscure book on _The Social Basis of Consciousness_. + +[58] This point was forcibly made by Beardsley Ruml in his speech +at the dedication of the Social Science Research Building at the +University of Chicago. See _The New Social Science_, edited by Leonard +D. White, pp. 99-111. + +[59] I have suggested that those who write human biography should be +included among those who require this comprehensive training. See “The +Scientific Study of Human Biography,” _Scientific Monthly_, January, +1930. + +[60] Modified and expanded from “The Psychoanalytic Interview as a +Method of Research on Personalities,” in _The Child’s Emotions_, pp. +136-59. + +[61] See Harold D. Lasswell, “The Problem of Adequate Personality +Records: A Proposal,” _American Journal of Psychiatry_, May 1929. Also +Appendix B of _The Proceedings of the First Colloquium on Personality +Investigation_. + +[62] We are now engaged upon studies of this kind at the Personality +Laboratory in the Social Science Research Building at the University of +Chicago. Harry Stack Sullivan is conducting a series of researches on +expression changes, with particular reference to schizophrenia, which +are of the greatest importance. + +[63] The topic of reliable criteria will be dealt with in detail in the +reports upon experiments in progress. + +[64] The best technical discussions of the nature of the analytical +situation are in the writings of Freud, Rank, Ferenczi, Nunberg, and +Alexander. + +[65] Expanded from an article with the same title which appeared in the +_Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology_, January, 1930. + +[66] Dorothy Swaine Thomas and Associates, _Some New Techniques for +Studying Social Behavior_. + +[67] “Die ersten sozialen Verhaltungsweisen des Kindes,” _Quellen und +Studien zur Jugendkunde_, Heft 5. + +[68] Referred to by John E. Anderson, “The Genesis of Social Reactions +in the Young Child,” _The Unconscious: A Symposium_. These researches +are abstracted in William I. Thomas and Dorothy S. Thomas, _The Child +in America_. + +[69] _Über soziale Verhaltungsweisen in der Vorpubertät_, “Wiener +Arbeiten zur pädogogischen Psychologie” (herausgegeben von Charlotte +Bühler and Viktor Fadrus), Heft 2. + +[70] _Das volkstümliche Kinderspiel_, Heft 6, in the same series as the +above. + +[71] “Psychologie des Jugendführers,” _Quellen und Studien zur +Jugendkunde_ (herausgegeben von Dr. Charlotte Bühler). + +[72] _Das Problem des Charakteraufbaus_, pp. 68-80. See E. Spranger, +_Psychologie des Jugendalters_, and Else Croner, “Die Psyche der +weiblichen Jugend,” _Schriften zur Frauenbildung_, Heft 6. + +[73] _Internationale Psychoanalytische Bibliotek_, Band XIX. + +[74] See especially p. 278. Harry Stack Sullivan is tracing out +the developmental history of various forms of personality in his +forthcoming volume on _Personal Psychopathology_. + +[75] Paul Federn commented in his pamphlet that a democratic state must +depend upon a democratic family life. + +[76] See his excellent methodological chapter in _The Psychology of +Murder_. + +[77] _The Origin of the State._ + +[78] Not to be confused with mind-body parallelism, which is not +accepted. + +[79] Cf. Kelsen, _Der Soziologische und der juristische +Staatsbegriff_; “Der Begriff des Staates und die Sozialpsychologie,” +_Imago_, VIII (1922), 97-141; “The Conception of the State and Social +Psychology,” _International Journal of Psycho-Analysis_, V (1924), 1-38. + +[80] Perhaps the most important part of the Merriam and Gosnell study +of _Non-Voting_ is the symposium of conversational scraps which suggest +what balloting actually means to various classes and sections of a +modern metropolitan community. + +[81] Such criticism has been directed against the pioneer venture of +the Lynds, _Middletown_. + +[82] An able discussion of the operational concept is in P. W. +Bridgman, _The Logic of Modern Physics_. + +[83] Alexander and Staub have commented on this in _Der Verbrecher +und seine Richter_. But it is principally due to the suspicion of the +public officer. + +[84] See his sketch of social psychology in _Massenpsychologie und +Ich-Analyse_. + +[85] More specifically, Kretschmer’s _Psychobiogramm_, published in +H. Hoffmann, _Das Problem des Charakteraufbaus_, as an appendix; +Heyman’s trait list (republished in _Gesammelte Kelinere Schriften_, +Dritter Teil); the psychograms of W. Stern (in _Die differentielle +Psychologie in ihren methodischen Grundlagen_), of Baade, Lipman, and +Stern (_Zeitschrift für angewandte Psychologie_, Band III), of P. +Margis (Breslau dissertation, 1911, _Das Problem und die Methoden der +Psychographie mit einer Individualanalyse von E. T. A. Hoffmann_), of +L. Lewin (_Friedrich Hebbel: Beitrag zu einem Psychogramm_ [Berlin, +1913]), of E. Stern (“Patho-psychographische Untersuchungen,” _Archiv +für Psychiatrie und Nervenkrankheiten_, Band LXI), of F. Kehrer and +S. Fischer (“Modell einer klinisch-experimentellen Pathographie,” +_Zeitschrift für die gesamte Neurologie und Psychiatrie_, Band LXXXV); +the outlines of Dr. Paul Federn (_Schema der Libidoaufnahme_, MSS in my +possession), of F. D. Wells (MSS in my possession), of G. V. Hamilton, +of Adolf Meyer (mimeographed MSS in my possession), of Amsden and Hoch, +of Floyd Allport, and the lists of Woodworth, Laird, House, Freyd and +Thurstone. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78273 *** |