In truth, Menand is trying to bring Freud back from the
dead. If Crews was trying to drive a stake through Freud’s cold dead heart,
Menand wants to salvage what he can from one of the twentieth century’s
greatest “confidence tricks.” We owe the phrase to Oxford biologist and Nobel
laureate Peter Medawar.
Of course, Menand teaches literature—at Harvard—so his
interest in psychoanalysis is primarily literary. He suggests that literature
professors wanted in on the game, but the easier interpretation is that Freud’s
writings are literature pretending to be science. They are, as I have said,
overpriced storytelling. Literature professors—like yours truly—were drawn to
Freud’s imaginative faculties, not to his pretense to be doing science. By now,
no serious thinker really believes that Freud was a scientist.
We must clarify some of Menand’s misrepresentations. He
mentions that when Freud left Vienna for London after the Anschluss, he left
his four sisters behind. They all died in the Holocaust. Menand does not
mention that Freud could have taken a couple of them with him, but preferred to
use the exit visas for his dogs.
A detail, perhaps, but a telling detail, especially since
Crews was trying to show that Freud was not God. Worse yet, Freud was not even
a decent human being. Being an indecent human does not make you godlike.
Menand also offers this strange sentence:
A
product of Mitteleuropa, once centered in cities like Vienna, Berlin, Budapest,
and Moscow, psychoanalysis was thus improbably transformed into a largely
Anglo-American medical and cultural phenomenon.
Inexplicably, Menand ignore the fact that psychoanalysis has
thrived and prospered in countries like France and Argentina. If you want to
explain how Freudian theories are surviving you must say something about the
places where they are alive and well. But then, you would need to explain why
Freudianism is so congenial to Roman Catholic cultures. That means that
true-believing Freudians have taken up the Catholic side of the Middle European
culture wars between Protestantism and Catholicism.
Menand fails to do this, so his theorizing loses the name of
reason. He is doing what Freudian theory does: ignoring any facts that might
disprove it. Karl Popper made this point seven decades ago. It’s about time
that serious thinkers grasped it.
Menand is correct to note, with Crews, that Freudian
analysis bears a very close resemblance to literary studies. Taking an obscure
text and trying to suss out hidden meanings… you could be doing dream analysis
or literary studies.
He does not notice that in Freud’s time these techniques
were more closely aligned with Biblical exegesis and that searching after what
people really, really want, or really, really believe derives from witch hunts
and inquisitions. The notion that potential heretics are hiding their true
beliefs drove the inquisitors. None of it had anything to do with science.
For the record, Freud certainly knew of the inquisitor’s
manual: the Malleus Maleficarum. Even
the most cursory glance at that fifteenth century work tells us that witches
were hunted because of their negative effect on male sexuality. The Malleus Maleficarum is a book about how certain kinds of women canse male sexual dysfunction... and how to cure it. Sound familiar?
So, Freud took up a venerable religious tradition,
secularized it and pretended that it was science. If you think about it, what
inquisitor would not have thrilled to the notion that he could discover
scientifically what people really, really believed.
Literature professors were not drawn by Freud’s pretense to
be doing science. Psychiatrists were. And yet, in time, the bloom faded and
people discovered that psychoanalysis had nothing to do with science. It was also clinically ineffective. True enough, as Menand and Tanya Luhrmann remark, it was better than lobotomy and many of the available medical treatments. Because it did no ostensible harm.
Menand explains the Crews argument:
Psychoanalysis
had already been discredited as a medical science, Crews wrote; what
researchers were now revealing was that Freud himself was possibly a
charlatan—an opportunistic self-dramatizer who deliberately misrepresented the
scientific bona fides of his theories.
Freud fell out of favor because medical treatments proved to
be far more effective than psychoanalysis. Freud’s dangerous method was done in
by medication:
Studies
suggesting that psychoanalysis had a low cure rate had been around for a while.
But the realization that depression and anxiety can be regulated by medication
made a mode of therapy whose treatment times reached into the hundreds of
billable hours seem, at a minimum, inefficient, and, at worst, a scam.
Among those who argued this point Jacques Lacan… the most
influential Freudian since Freud. Menand does not mention him. If he had wanted
to show how and why Freud has survived, ignoring the influence of Lacan is irresponsible.
Instead, Menand argues that modern psychoanalysis has broken
free of Freud by discarding the absurdities in his theory. Again, this point
is subject to dispute.
True, a group of American physicians and psychologists tried to make Freud’s theory and made it more palatable. Did they understand the
theory? They did not. If you put a group of physicians in a room to ponder
metaphysics, theology, epistemology and rhetoric, they will not come up with
anything of real consequence.
Lacan argued that American physicians had butchered the
theory. And thus, that it befell him to show how it all fit together. This
meant that you cannot add and subtract different parts of the theory without destroying
it. One might say that Freudian theory was like the predicate calculus: if you
start tinkering with the axioms, the edifice will crumble.
Menand says that Freud has now become a poet of the mind. In
that he is certainly correct:
For
many years, even as writers were discarding the more patently absurd elements
of his theory—penis envy, or the death drive—they continued to pay homage
to Freud’s unblinking insight into the human condition. That persona helped
Freud to evolve, in the popular imagination, from a scientist into a kind of
poet of the mind. And the thing about poets is that they cannot be refuted. No
one asks of “Paradise Lost”: But is it true? Freud and his concepts, now converted into metaphors,
joined the legion of the undead.
But then, in order to drag Freud back from his grave, Menand
offers up his own notion: that Freudian theory was science. Say what? He just told us of the studies that have showed that psychoanalysis was not science.
Thus, his assertion is wrong:
The principal
reason psychoanalysis triumphed over alternative theories and was taken up in
fields outside medicine, like literary criticism, is that it presented its
findings as inductive. Freudian theory was not a magic-lantern show, an
imaginative projection that provided us with powerful metaphors for
understanding the human condition. It was not “Paradise Lost”; it was science,
a conceptual system wholly derived from clinical experience.
Freud insisted that psychoanalysis derived wholly from
clinical experience. He was lying. The theory was not inductive. It did not
care about facts. It dismissed fact in favor of desire when Freud abandoned the
seduction theory. As for the notion that literary theorists took up with psychoanalysis
because it was science--that too is ridiculous.
So, Menand offers a weak defense of Freud:
It can
be useful to be made to realize that your feelings about people you love are
actually ambivalent, or that you were being aggressive when you thought you
were only being extremely polite. Of course, you shouldn’t have to work your
way through your castration anxiety to get there.
Actually, castration anxiety in Freudian theory corresponds
to guilt over sins of word, thought and deed. And Freud’s version of symbolic
castration corresponds to the penance that any sinner must do to overcome his
guilt. If you discard the theoretical foundation of the theory you end up with
psychobabble.
Obviously, Crews’s book is well worth your attention. I also recommend my own book, The Last Psychoanalyst. Had Menand paid it any attention, he would have avoided his most egregious errors.