Freud Notes
Freud didn't exactly invent the idea of the conscious versus unconscious
mind, but he certainly was responsible for making it popular. The conscious
mind is what you are aware of at any particular moment, your present
perceptions, memories, thoughts, fantasies, feelings, what have you. Working
closely with the conscious mind is what Freud called the preconscious, what we
might today call "available memory:" anything that can easily be made
conscious, the memories you are not at the moment thinking about but can
readily bring to mind. Now no-one has a problem with these two layers of mind.
But Freud suggested that these are the smallest parts!
The largest part by far is the unconscious. It includes all the
things that are not easily available to awareness, including many things that
have their origins there, such as our drives or instincts,
and things that
are out there because we can't bear to
look at them, such as the memories and emotions associated with trauma.
According to Freud, the unconscious is the source of our motivations,
whether they are simple desires for food or sex, neurotic compulsions, or the
motives of an artist or scientist. And yet, we are often driven to deny or
resist becoming conscious of these motives, and they are often available to us
only in disguised form. We will come back to this.

The id, the ego, and the superego
Freudian psychological reality begins with the world, full of objects. Among
them is a very special object, the individual themselves, as an
organism. The organism is special in that it
acts to survive and reproduce, and it is guided toward those ends by its needs
-- hunger, thirst, the avoidance of pain, and sex.
A part -- a very important part -- of
the organism is the nervous system, which has as one its characteristics sensitivity
to the organism's needs. At birth, that nervous system is little more than that
of any other animal, an "it" or id. The nervous system, as id,
translates the organism's needs into motivational forces called, in German,
Triebe, which has
been translated as instincts or drives. Freud also called them
wishes. This translation from the
need to
wish is called the primary process.
The id works in keeping with the pleasure principle, which can
be understood as a demand to take care of needs
immediately. Just picture the hungry infant, screaming itself blue. It doesn't
"know" what it wants in any adult sense; it just knows that it wants
it and it wants it now. The infant, in the Freudian view, is pure or nearly
pure Id. And the id is nothing if not the psychic representative of biology.
Unfortunately, although a wish for food, such as the image of a juicy steak,
might be enough to satisfy the id, it isn't enough to satisfy the organism. The
need only gets stronger, and the wishes
just
keep coming. You may have noticed that, when you haven't satisfied some need,
such as the need for food, it begins to demand more and more of your attention,
until there
comes the point where you
can't think of anything else.
This is the
wish or
drives breaking into
consciousness.
Luckily for the organism, there is that small portion of the mind we
discussed before, the conscious, which is hooked up to the world through the
senses. Around this little bit of consciousness, during the first year of a
child's life, some of the "it" becomes "I," some of the id
becomes ego. The ego relates the organism to reality
using its consciousness, and it searches for objects to satisfy the
wishes that
it creates to represent the organism’s
needs. This problem-solving activity is called the secondary process.
The ego, unlike the id, functions according to the reality principle, which
says "take care of a need as soon as an appropriate object
is found." It represents reality and, to a
considerable extent, reason.
However, as the ego struggles to keep the id (and, ultimately, the organism)
happy, it meets with obstacles in the world. It occasionally meets with objects
that assist it in attaining its goals. And it keeps a record of these obstacles
and aides.
In particular, it keeps track of the rewards and
punishments meted out by two of the most influential objects in the world of
the child -- mom and dad. This record of things to avoid and strategies
to take becomes the superego. It
is not
completed until about seven years of age. In some people, it never is
completed.
There are two aspects to the superego: One is the conscience, which is an
internalization of punishments and warnings. The other is called the ego
ideal. It derives from rewards and positive models presented to the child. The
conscience and ego ideal communicate their requirements to the ego with
feelings like pride, shame, and guilt.
It is as if we acquired, in childhood, a new set of needs and accompanying
wishes, this time
of social rather than biological origins.
Unfortunately, these new wishes can easily conflict with the ones from the id.
You
see, the superego represents society, and society often wants nothing better
than to have you never satisfy your needs at all!
Life instincts
and the death instinct
Freud saw all human behavior as motivated by the drives or instincts, which
in turn are the neurological representations of physical needs. At first, he
referred to them as the life instincts. These instincts perpetuate (a) the life
of the individual, by motivating him or her to seek food and water, and (b) the
life of the species, by motivating him or her to have sex. The motivational
energy of these life instincts,
the "oomph" that powers our
psyches, he called libido, from the Latin word for "I desire."
Freud's clinical experience led him to view sex as much more important in
the dynamics of the psyche than other needs. We are, after all, social
creatures, and sex is the most social of needs. Plus, we have to remember that
Freud included much more than intercourse in the term sex! Anyway, libido has
come to mean, not any old drive, but the sex drive.
Later in his life, Freud began to believe that the life instincts didn't
tell the whole story. Libido is a
living
thing;
the pleasure principle keeps us in perpetual motion. And yet the
goal of all this motion is to be still, to be satisfied, to be at peace, to
have no more needs. The goal of life, you might say, is death! Freud began to
believe that "under" and "beside" the life instincts there
was a death instinct. He began to believe that every person has an unconscious
wish to die.
This seems like a strange idea at
first, and
it was rejected by many of his
students, but I think it has some basis in experience: Life can be a
painful and exhausting process. There is
easy,
for the great majority of people in the world, more pain than pleasure in life
-- something we are extremely reluctant to admit! Death promises release from
the struggle.
Freud referred to a nirvana principle. Nirvana is a Buddhist idea, often
translated as heaven, but meaning "blowing out," as in the blowing
out of a candle. It refers to non-existence, nothingness, the void, which is
the goal of all life in Buddhist philosophy.
The day-to-day evidence of the death instinct and its nirvana principle is
in our desire for peace, for escape from stimulation, our attraction to alcohol
and narcotics, our penchant for escapist activity, such as losing ourselves in
books or movies, our craving for rest and sleep. Sometimes it presents itself
openly as suicide and suicidal wishes. And, Freud theorized, sometimes we
direct it out away from ourselves, in the form of aggression, cruelty, murder,
and destructiveness.
Anxiety
Freud once
said, "Life is not
easy!"
The ego -- the "I" -- sits at the center of some pretty
powerful forces: reality; society, as represented by the superego;
biology, as represented by the id. When these make conflicting demands upon
the poor ego, it is understandable if it -- if you -- feel threatened, fell
overwhelmed, feel as if it were about to collapse under the weight of it all.
This
feeling is called anxiety, and it serves as a signal to the ego that its
survival, and with it the survival of the whole organism, is in jeopardy.
Freud mentions three different kinds of anxieties: The first is realistic
anxiety, which you and I would call fear. Freud did, too, in German. But his
translators thought "fear" too mundane! Nevertheless, if I throw you
into a pit of poisonous snakes, you might experience realistic anxiety.
The second is
moral anxiety.
This
is what we feel when the threat comes not from the outer, physical world, but
from the internalized social world of the superego. It is, in fact,
just
another word for feelings like shame and guilt and the fear of punishment.
The last is neurotic anxiety.
This
is the fear of being overwhelmed by impulses from the id. If you have ever felt
like you were about to "lose it," losing control, your temper, your
rationality, or even your mind, you have felt neurotic anxiety. Neurotic is the
Latin word for nervous, so this is nervous anxiety. It is this kind of anxiety
that intrigued Freud most, and we usually call it anxiety, plain and simple.
The defense
mechanisms
The ego deals with the demands of reality, the id, and the superego as
best as it can. But when the anxiety becomes overwhelming, the ego must defend
itself. It does so by unconsciously blocking the impulses or distorting them
into a more acceptable, less threatening form. The techniques are called the
ego defense mechanisms, and Freud, his daughter Anna, and other disciples have
discovered quite a few.
Denial involves blocking external events from awareness. If some
situation is just too much to handle, the person
just refuses to experience it. As you might imagine, this is a
primitive and dangerous defense -- no one disregards reality and gets away with
it for long! It can operate by itself or, more commonly, in combination with
other, more subtle mechanisms that support it.
Repression, which Anna Freud also called "motivated
forgetting," is just that: not being able to recall a threatening
situation, person, or event.
This, too,
is
dangerous and is a part of most other
defenses.
Other examples abound. Anna Freud provides one that now strikes us as
quaint: A young girl, guilty about her rather strong sexual desires, tends to
forget her
boyfriend's name, even when
trying to introduce him to her relations! Or an alcoholic can't remember his
suicide attempt, claiming he must have "blacked out." Or a someone
almost drowns as a child, but can't remember the event even when people try to
remind him --,
but he does have this fear
of open water!
Note that, to be a true example of a defense, it should function unconsciously.
My brother had a fear of dogs as a child, but there was no defense involved: He
had been bitten by one, and wanted very badly never to repeat the experience!
Usually, it is the irrational fears we call phobias that derive from the
repression of traumas.
Asceticism, or the renunciation of needs, is one most people haven't
heard of, but it has become relevant again today with the emergence of the
disorder called anorexia. Preadolescents, when they feel threatened by their
emerging sexual desires, may unconsciously
try to protect themselves by
denying, not only their sexual desires
but all desires.
They get involved in some ascetic (monk-like)
lifestyle wherein they renounce their interest in what other people enjoy.
Unfortunately, girls in our society often develop a great deal of interest
in attaining an excessively and artificially thin standard of beauty. In
Freudian theory, their denial of their need for food is a cover for their
denial of their sexual development. Our society conspires with them: After all,
what most societies consider a normal figure for a mature woman is in ours
considered 20 pounds overweight!
Isolation (sometimes called intellectualization) involves stripping
the emotion from a difficult memory or threatening impulse. A person may, in a
very cavalier manner, acknowledge that they had
been
abused as a
child or my show a
purely intellectual curiosity in their newly discovered sexual orientation.
Something that should be a big deal
is treated
as if it were not.
Displacement is the redirection of an impulse onto a substitute target.
If the impulse, the desire, is okay with you, but the person you direct that
desire towards is too threatening, you can displace to someone or something
that can serve as a symbolic substitute.
Someone who hates his or her mother may repress that hatred, but direct
it instead towards, say, women in general. Someone who has not had the chance
to love someone may substitute cats or dogs for human beings. Someone who feels
uncomfortable with their sexual desire for a real person may substitute a
fetish. Someone who is frustrated by his or her superiors may go home and kick
the dog, beat up a family member, or engage in cross-burnings.
Turning against the self is a very special form of displacement, where
the person becomes their substitute target. It
is
normally used about hatred, anger,
and aggression, rather than more positive impulses, and it is the Freudian
explanation for many of our feelings of inferiority, guilt, and depression.
The idea that depression is often the result of the
anger we refuse to acknowledge is accepted by many people, Freudians and
non-Freudians alike.
Projection, which Anna Freud also called displacement outward, is
almost the complete opposite of turning against the self. It involves the
tendency to see your unacceptable desires in other people. In other words, the
desires are still there, but they're not your desires anymore. I confess that
whenever I hear someone going on and on about how aggressive everybody is, or
how perverted they all are, I tend to wonder if this person doesn't have an
aggressive or sexual streak in themselves that they'd rather not acknowledge.
Let me give you a couple of examples: A husband, a good and faithful one,
finds himself attracted to the charming and flirtatious lady next door. But
rather than acknowledge his own, hardly abnormal, lusts, he becomes
increasingly jealous of his wife, constantly worried about her faithfulness,
and so on. Or a woman finds herself having vaguely sexual feelings about her
girlfriends. Instead of acknowledging those feelings as quite normal, she
becomes increasingly concerned with the presence of lesbians in her community.
An altruistic surrender is a form
of projection that at first glance looks like its opposite: Here, the person
attempts to fulfill his or her own needs vicariously, through other people.
A common example of this is the friend (we've all had one) who, while not
seeking any relationship himself, is constantly pushing other people into them,
and is particularly curious as to "what happened last night" and
"how are things going?"
The extreme example of altruistic
surrender is the person who lives their whole life for and through another.
Reaction formation, which Anna Freud called "believing the opposite,"
is changing an unacceptable impulse into its opposite.
So a child, angry at
his or her mother, may become overly concerned with her and rather
dramatically shower her with affection. An abused child may run to the
abusing parent. Or someone who can't accept a homosexual
impulse may claim to despise homosexuals.
Perhaps the most common and clearest example of reaction formation is found
in children between seven and eleven or so: Most boys will tell you in no
uncertain terms how disgusting girls are, and girls will tell you with equal
vigor how gross boys are.
Adults are
watching their interactions, however, can tell quite easily what their true
feelings are!
Undoing involves "magical" gestures or rituals that are meant
to cancel out unpleasant thoughts or feelings after they've already
occurred. Anna Freud mentions, for example, a boy who would recite the alphabet
backward whenever he had a sexual
thought, or turn around and spit whenever meeting another boy who shared his
passion for masturbation.
In "normal" people, the undoing is, of course, more conscious,
and we might engage in the act of
atonement for some behavior, or formally ask for forgiveness. But in some
people, the act of atonement isn't conscious at all. Consider the alcoholic
father who, after a year of verbal and perhaps physical abuse, puts on the best
and biggest Christmas ever for his kids. When the season is over, and
the kids haven't quite been fooled by his magical
gesture, he returns to his bartender with complaints about how ungrateful
his family is, and how they drive him to drink.
One of the classic examples of undoing concerns personal hygiene following
sex: It is perfectly reasonable to wash up after sex. After all, it can get
messy! But if you feel the need to take three or four complete showers using
gritty soap -- perhaps sex doesn't quite agree with you
.
Introjection, sometimes called identification, involves taking into
your personality characteristics of someone
else
because doing so solves some emotional difficulty.
For example, a child who
is left alone frequently, may in some way try to become "mom" to lessen his or her fears. You can
sometimes catch them telling their dolls or animals not to be afraid. And we
find the older child or teenager imitating his or
her favorite star,
musician, or sports hero to establish an
identity.
I must add here that identification is very important to Freudian theory
as the mechanism by which we develop our superegos.
Identification with the aggressor is a version of introjections that
focuses on the adoption, not of general or positive traits, but of negative or
feared traits.
If you are afraid of someone, you can partially
conquer that fear by becoming more like them.
A more dramatic example is one called the
Stockholm syndrome. After a
hostage crisis in Stockholm, psychologists were surprised to find that the
hostages were not only not terribly angry at their captors, but often downright
sympathetic. A more recent case involved a young woman named Patty Hearst, of
the wealthy and influential Hearst family. She
was
captured by a very small group of self-proclaimed revolutionaries called
the Symbionese Liberation Army. She was kept in closets, raped, and otherwise
mistreated.
She decided to join them,
making little propaganda videos for them and even waving a machine gun around
during a bank robbery. When she
was later tried,
psychologists strongly suggested she was a victim, not a criminal. She was
nevertheless convicted of bank robbery and sentenced to 7 years in prison.
Her sentence was commuted by President Carter
after
two years.
Regression is a movement back in psychological time when one
is faced with stress. When we are troubled or
frightened, our behaviors often become more childish or primitive. A child may
begin to suck their thumb again or wet the bed when they need to spend some
time in the hospital. Teenagers may giggle
uncontrollably
when introduced into a social situation involving the opposite sex. A freshman
college student may need to bring an old toy from home. A gathering of
civilized people may become a violent mob when they are led to believe their
livelihoods are at stake. Or an older man, after spending twenty years at a
company and now finding himself laid off, may retire to his recliner and become
childishly dependent on his wife.
Where do we retreat when faced with stress? For the last time in life when we felt safe and secure, according
to Freudian theory.
Rationalization is the cognitive distortion of "the facts"
to make an event or an impulse less threatening. We do it often enough on a
fairly conscious level when we provide ourselves with excuses. But for many
people, with sensitive egos, making excuses comes so easy that they never are
truly aware of it. In other words, many of us are quite prepared to believe our
lies.
A useful way of understanding the defenses is to see them as a
combination of denial or repression with various kinds of rationalizations.
All defenses are, of course, lies, even if we are not conscious of
making them. But that doesn't make them less dangerous -- it makes them more
so. As your grandma may have told you,
"Oh what a tangled web we
weave..." Lies breed lies, and take us further and further from the
truth, from reality. After a while, the ego can no longer take care of the id's
demands, or pay attention to the superego's. The anxieties come rushing back
and you break down.
And yet Freud saw defenses as necessary. You can hardly expect a person,
especially a child, to take the pain and sorrow of life full
on! While some of his followers suggested that
all of the defenses could
be used
positively, Freud himself suggested that there was one positive defense, which
he called sublimation.
Character
Your experiences as you grow up contribute to your personality, or
character, as an adult. Freud felt that traumatic experiences had an
especially strong effect. Of course, each specific trauma would have its unique
impact on a person, which can only be explored and understood on an individual
basis. But traumas associated with stage development, since we all have to go
through them, should have more consistency.
If you have difficulties in any of the tasks associated with the stages --
weaning, potty training, or finding your sexual identity -- you will tend to
retain certain infantile or childish habits.
This
is called fixation. Fixation gives each problem at each stage a long-term
effect
regarding our personality or
character.
If you, in the first eight months of your life, are often frustrated in your
need to suckle, perhaps because the
mother
is uncomfortable or even rough with you, or tries to wean you too early, then
you may develop an oral-passive character. An oral-passive personality tends to
be rather dependent on others. They often retain an interest in "oral
gratifications" such as eating, drinking, and smoking. It is as if they
were seeking the pleasures they missed in infancy.
When we are between five and eight months old, we begin teething. One
satisfying thing to do when you are teething is to bite on something, like mommy's
nipple. If this causes a great deal of upset and precipitates
early weaning, you may develop an
oral-aggressive personality. These people retain a life-long desire to bite on
things, such as pencils, gum, and other people. They
tend to be verbally aggressive, argumentative, sarcastic, and so
on.
In the anal stage, we are fascinated with our "bodily functions."
At first, we can go whenever and wherever we like. Then, out of the blue and
for no reason you can understand, the powers that be want you to do it only at
certain times and in certain places. And parents seem
to value the end product of all this effort!
Some parents put themselves at the child's mercy in the process of toilet
training. They
beg they cajole, they show
great joy when you do it right, they act as though their hearts
were broken when you don't. The child is the
king of the
house and knows it. This
child will grow up to be an anal expulsive (a.k.a. anal aggressive)
personality. These people tend to be sloppy, disorganized, and generous to a
fault. They may be cruel, destructive, and given to vandalism and graffiti. The
Oscar Madison character in The Odd Couple is a nice example.
Other parents are strict. They may be competing with their neighbors and
relatives as to who can potty train their child first (early potty training being associated in many people's minds with
great intelligence). They may use punishment or humiliation. This child will
likely become constipated as he or she tries desperately to hold it in at all
times, and will grow up to be an anal retentive personality. He or she will
tend to be especially clean, perfectionist, dictatorial, very stubborn, and
stingy. In other words, the anal retentive is tight in all ways. The Felix
Unger character in The Odd Couple is a perfect example.
There are also two phallic personalities, although no-one has given them
names. If
the boy is harshly rejected by his
mother, and rather threatened by his very masculine father, he is likely
to have a poor sense of self-worth when it comes to his sexuality. He may deal
with this by either withdrawing from heterosexual interaction, perhaps becoming
a book-worm, or by putting on a rather macho act and playing the ladies' man. A
girl rejected by her father and threatened by her very feminine mother is also
likely to feel poorly about herself, and may become a wall-flower or a
hyper-feminine "belle."
But if a boy is not rejected by his
mother, but rather favored over his weak, milquetoast father, he may develop
quite an opinion of himself (which may suffer greatly when he gets into the
real world, where nobody loves him
as his
mother did), and may appear rather effeminate. After all, he has no cause to
identify with his father. Likewise, if a girl is daddy's little princess and
best buddy, and mommy has
been relegated
to a sort of servant role, then she may become quite vain and self-centered, or
possibly rather masculine.
These various phallic characters demonstrate an important point in Freudian
characterology:
Extremes lead to extremes.
If you are frustrated in
some way or overindulged in some way, you have problems. And,
although each problem tends to lead to certain characteristics, these
characteristics can also easily be reversed. So an anal retentive person may
suddenly become exceedingly
generous or
may have some part of their life where they are messy.
This is frustrating to scientists, but it may reflect the reality
of personality!