It is unnecessary to trouble you with instances of this phenomenon. It is an every-day experience that our emotions are never at the level of our reasoning. It is exactly the same with such a patient, only with greater intensity. He may perhaps believe that, save for his neurosis, he is a normal person, and hence adapted to the conditions of life. He does not suspect that he has not relinquished certain childish pretensions, that he still carries with him, in the background, expectations and illusions which he has never rendered conscious to himself. He cultivates all sorts of favorite phantasies, which seldom become conscious, or at any rate, not very often, so that he himself does not know that he has them. They very often exist only as emotional expectations, hopes, prejudices, etc. We call these phantasies, unconscious phantasies. Sometimes they dip into the peripheral consciousness as quite fugitive thoughts, which disappear again a moment later, so that the patient is unable to say whether he had such phantasies or not. It is only during the psychoanalytic treatment that most patients learn to observe and retain these fleeting thoughts. Although most of the phantasies, once at least, have been conscious in the form of fleeting thoughts and only afterwards became unconscious, we have no right to call them on that account “conscious,” as they are practically most of the time unconscious. It is therefore right to designate them “unconscious phantasies.” Of course there are also infantile phantasies, which are perfectly conscious and which can be reproduced at any time.
CHAPTER V
The Unconscious
The sphere of the unconscious infantile phantasies has become the real object of psychoanalytic investigation. As we have previously pointed out, this domain seems to retain the key to the etiology of neurosis. In contradistinction with the trauma theory, we are forced by the reasons already adduced to seek in the family history for the basis of our present psychoanalytic attitude. Those phantasy-systems which patients exhibit on mere questioning are for the most part composed and elaborated like a novel or a drama. Although they are greatly elaborated, they are relatively of little value for the investigation of the unconscious. Just because they are conscious, they have already deferred over-much to the claims of etiquette and social morality. Hence they have been purged of all personally painful and ugly details, and are presentable to society, revealing very little. The valuable, and much more important phantasies are not conscious in the sense already defined, but are to be discovered through the technique of psychoanalysis.
Without wishing to enter fully into the question of technique, I must here meet an objection that is constantly heard. It is that the so-called unconscious phantasies are only suggested to the patient and only exist in the minds of psychoanalysts. This objection belongs to that common class which ascribes to them the crude mistakes of beginners. I think only those without psychological experience and without historical psychological knowledge are capable of making such criticisms. With a mere glimmering of mythological knowledge, one cannot fail to notice the striking parallels between the unconscious phantasies discovered by the psychoanalytic school and mythological images. The objection that our knowledge of mythology has been suggested to the patient is groundless, for the psychoanalytic school first discovered the unconscious phantasies, and only then became acquainted with mythology. Mythology itself is obviously something outside the path of the medical man. In so far as these phantasies are unconscious, the patient of course knows nothing about their existence, and it would be absurd to make direct inquiries about them. Nevertheless it is often said, both by patients and by so-called normal persons: “But if I had such phantasies, surely I would know something about them.” But what is unconscious is, in fact, something which one does not know. The opposition too is perfectly convinced that such things as unconscious phantasies could not exist. This a priori judgment is scholasticism, and has no sensible grounds. We cannot possibly rest on the dogma that consciousness only is mind, when we can convince ourselves daily that our consciousness is only the stage. When the contents of our consciousness appear they are already in a highly complex form; the grouping of our thoughts from the elements supplied by our memory is almost entirely unconscious. Therefore we are obliged, whether we like it or not, to accept for the moment the conception of an unconscious psychic sphere, even if only as a mere negative, border-conception, just as Kant’s “thing in itself.” As we perceive things which do not have their origin in consciousness, we are obliged to give hypothetic contents to the sphere of the non-conscious. We must suppose that the origin of certain effects lies in the unconscious, just because they are not conscious. The reproach of mysticism can scarcely be made against this conception of the unconscious. We do not pretend that we know anything positive, or can affirm anything, about the psychic condition of the unconscious. Instead, we have substituted symbols by following the way of designation and abstraction we apply in consciousness.
On the axiom: Principia præter necessitatem non sunt multiplicanda, this kind of ideation is the only possible one. Hence we speak about the effects of the unconscious, just as we do about the phenomena of the conscious. Many people have been shocked by Freud’s statement: “The unconscious can only wish,” and this is regarded as an unheard of metaphysical assertion, something like the principle of Hartman’s “Philosophy of the Unconscious,” which apparently administers a rebuff to the theory of cognition. This indignation only arises from the fact that the critics, unknown to themselves, evidently start from a metaphysical conception of the unconscious as being an “end per se,” and naïvely project on to us their inadequate conception of the unconscious. For us, the unconscious is no entity, but a term, about whose metaphysical entity we do not permit ourselves to form any idea. Here we contrast with those psychologists, who, sitting at their desks, are as exactly informed about the localization of the mind in the brain as they are informed about the psychological correlation of the mental processes. Whence they are able to declare positively that beyond the consciousness there are but physiological processes of the cortex. Such naiveté must not be imputed to the psychoanalyst. When Freud says: “We can only wish,” he describes in symbolic terms effects of which the origin is not known. From the standpoint of our conscious thinking, these effects can only be considered as analogous to wishes. The psychoanalytic school is, moreover, aware that the discussion as to whether “wishing” is a sound analogy can be re-opened at any time. Anyone who has more information is welcome. Instead, the opponents content themselves with denial of the phenomena, or if certain phenomena are admitted, they abstain from all theoretical speculation. This last point is readily to be understood, for it is not everyone’s business to think theoretically. Even the man who has succeeded in freeing himself from the dogma of the identity of the conscious self and the psyche, thus admitting the possible existence of psychic processes outside the conscious, is not justified in disputing or maintaining psychic possibilities in the unconscious. The objection is raised that the psychoanalytic school maintains certain views without sufficient grounds, as if the literature did not contain abundant, perhaps too abundant, discussion of cases, and more than enough arguments. But they seem not to be sufficient for the opponents. There must be a good deal of difference as to the meaning of the term “sufficient” in respect to the validity of the arguments. The question is: “Why does the psychoanalytic school apparently set less store on the proof of their formulas than the critics?” The reason is very simple. An engineer who has built a bridge, and has worked out its bearing capacity, wants no other proof for the success of its bearing power. But the ordinary man, who has no notion how a bridge is built, or what is the strength of the material used, will demand quite different proofs as to the bearing capacity of the bridge, for he has no confidence in the business. In the first place, it is the critics’ complete ignorance of what is being done which provokes their demand. In the second place, there are the unanswerable theoretical misunderstandings: impossible for us to know them all and understand them all. Just as we find, again and again, in our patients new and astonishing misunderstandings about the ways and the aim of the psychoanalytic method, so are the critics inexhaustible in devising misunderstandings. You can see in the discussion of our conception of the unconscious what kind of false philosophical assumptions can prevent the understanding of our terminology. It is comprehensible that those who attribute to the unconscious involuntarily an absolute entity, require quite different arguments, beyond our power to give. Had we to prove immortality, we should have to collect many more important arguments, than if we had merely to demonstrate the existence of plasmodia in a malaria patient. The metaphysical expectation still disturbs the scientific way of thinking, so that problems of psychoanalysis cannot be considered in a simple way. But I do not wish to be unjust to the critics, and I will admit that the psychoanalytic school itself very often gives rise to misunderstandings, although innocently enough. One of the principal sources of these mistakes is the confusion in the theoretical sphere. It is a pity, but we have no presentable theory. But you would understand this, if you could see, in a concrete case, with what difficulties we have to deal. In contradiction to the opinion of nearly all critics, Freud is by no means a theorist. He is an empiricist, of which fact anyone can easily convince himself, if he is willing to busy himself somewhat more deeply with Freud’s works, and if he tries to go into the cases as Freud has done. Unfortunately, the critics are not willing. As we have very often heard, it is too disgusting and too repulsive, to observe cases in the same way as Freud has done. But who will learn the nature of Freud’s method, if he allows himself to be hindered by repulsion and disgust? Because they neglect to apply themselves to the point of view adopted by Freud, perhaps as a necessary working hypothesis, they come to the absurd supposition that Freud is a theorist. They then readily agree that Freud’s “Three Contributions to the Sexual Theory” is a priori invented by a merely speculative brain which afterwards suggests everything into the patient. That is putting things upside down. This gives the critics an easy task, and this is just what they want to have. They pay no attention to the observations of the psychoanalysts, conscientiously set forth in their histories of diseases, but only to the theory, and to the formulation of technique. The weak spot of psychoanalysis, however, is not found here, as psychoanalysis is only empirical. Here you find but a large and insufficiently cultivated field, in which the critics can exercise themselves to their full satisfaction. There are many uncertainties, and as many contradictions, in the sphere of this theory. We were conscious of this long before the first critic began to pay attention to our work.
CHAPTER VI
The Dream
After this digression we will return to the question of the unconscious phantasies which occupied us before. As we have seen, nobody can dispute their existence, just as nobody can assert their existence and their qualities forthwith. The question, however, is just this: Can effects be observed in the consciousness of unconscious origin, which can be described in conscious symbolic signs or expressions? Can there be found, in the conscious, effects which correspond with this expectation? The psychoanalytic school believes it has discovered such effects. Let me mention at once the principal phenomenon, the dream. Of this it may be said that it appears in the consciousness as a complex factor unconsciously constructed out of its elements. The origin of the images in certain reminiscences of the earlier or of the later past can be proved through the associations belonging to the single images of the dream. We ask: “Where did you see this?” or “Where did you hear that?” And through the usual way of association come the reminiscences that certain parts of the dream have been consciously experienced, some the day before, some on former occasions. So far there will be general agreement, for these things are well known. In so far, the dream represents in general an incomprehensible composition of certain elements not at first conscious, which are only recognized later on by their associations. It is not that all parts of the dream are recognizable, whence its conscious character could be deduced; on the contrary, they are often, and indeed mostly, unrecognizable at first. Only subsequently does it occur to us that we have experienced in consciousness this or that part of the dream. From this standpoint alone, we might regard the dream as an effect of unconscious origin.
The Method of Dream Analysis
The technique for the exploration of the unconscious origin is the one I mentioned before, used before Freud by every scientific man who attempted to arrive at a psychological understanding of dreams. We try simply to remember where the parts of the dream arose. The psychoanalytic technique for the interpretation of dreams is based on this very simple principle. It is a fact that certain parts of the dream originate in daily life, that is, in events which, on account of their slighter importance, would have fallen into oblivion, and indeed were on the way to become definitely unconscious. It is these parts of the dream that are the effect of unconscious images and representations. People have been shocked by this expression also. But we do not conceive these things so concretely, not to say crudely, as do the critics. Certainly this expression is nothing but a symbolism taken from conscious psychology—we were never in any doubt as to that. The expression is quite clear and answers very well as a symbol of an unknown psychic fact.
As we mentioned before, we can conceive the unconscious only by analogy with the conscious. We do not imagine that we understand a thing when we have discovered a beautiful and rather incomprehensible name. The principle of the psychoanalytic technique is, as you see, extraordinarily simple. The further procedure follows on in the same way. If we occupy ourselves long with a dream, a thing which, apart from psychoanalysis, naturally never happens, we are apt to find still more reminiscences to the various different parts of the dream. We are not however always successful in finding reminiscences to certain portions. We have to put aside these dreams, or parts of dreams, whether we will or no.