Nor are we concerned here with conduct which pertains more properly to social psychology. Our task is much more limited and simple, namely to inquire into the immediate conscious phenomena provoked by emotion, just as we have studied the physiological phenomena. We have seen that one such phenomenon is inhibition or repression of antagonistic instincts and sentiments provoked by conflict. (We shall see later that a conflict may arise between a conscious and an entirely subconscious sentiment with similar resulting phenomena.)
Repression of individual instincts may be lasting.—The repressions resulting from conflict which we have just been considering have been of a temporary nature lasting only just so long as the conflict has lasted. It is instructive to note that just as an instinct can be cultivated until it becomes a ruling trait in the character, so it can be permanently repressed, or so intensely repressed that it cannot be awakened excepting by unusual excitants or under unusual conditions. Such a persisting repression may be brought about either directly by volitional conflict or indirectly through the cultivation of antagonistic sentiments. The cultivation of an instinct is a common enough observation. Every one can point to some one of his acquaintance who has so fostered his instinct of anger or fear, has so cultivated the habit of one or the other reaction that he has become the slave of his emotion. Conversely, by the conative force of the will, and still more successfully by the cultivation of appropriate moral and religious and other sentiments, and complexes or “settings” systematized about those sentiments, a person can inhibit any instinct or any sentiment organized with that instinct. A bad-tempered person can thus, if he chooses, become good-tempered; a coward, a brave person; a person governed by the instinct of self-subjection can repress it by the cultivation of sentiments of self-assertion, and so on. The complete repression of unchristian instincts and sentiments is the acquired characteristic of the saintly character. The cultivation and repression of character traits and tendencies along these lines obviously belong to the domains of the psychology of character, social psychology, and criminology. But the persisting repression of at least one instinct—the sexual instinct—may take on pathological significance[[232]] while that of sentiments may lead to pathological dissociation and to the formation of disturbing subconscious states. To this latter type of repression we shall presently return.
That the sexual instinct may be involuntarily and persistently repressed by conflict is shown by the following case:
F. S. presented herself at the hospital clinic because of hysterical epileptiform attacks of six months’ duration. The attacks, which had been caused by an emotional trauma, were easily cured by suggestion. After recovery she fell into lamentations over the fact that she was sterile owing to both ovaries having been removed three years before because of pelvic disease. Just before the operation she had also suffered from an emotional trauma (fear). Although complete recovery from her symptoms had followed the operation, the sexual instinct had been abolished for three years. She was now much distressed over her inability to have children, complaining it had led to domestic infelicity, and apprehending divorce which had been threatened on the ground of her sterility. Having confidence in the strength of certain fundamental principles of human nature, and disbelieving the reasons alleged by the husband for divorce, I was able to restore domestic felicity, as well as demonstrate the psycho-physiological principle that the instinct was not lost but only inhibited. A single suggestion in hypnosis, psychologically constructed so as to bear a strong conative impulse that would overcome any other conflicting affective impulses and carry itself to fruition, restored not only the lost function[[233]] but conjugal happiness. That the instinct had only been inhibited is obvious. Whether the repressing factor had been fear or an involuntary auto-suggestion was not determined.
The following case is instructive not only because of the lasting dissociation of this instinct as a result of a conflict, but because the dissociation was volitionally and intentionally effected as a revenge. Other interesting features are the transference of the repressing revenge affect to an object (clothes which became an amulet or fetish to protect from sexual approaches, and the building of a complex (“raw oyster”) which became the bearer of the repressing force. X. Y. Z. received a deep wound to her pride on the first night of her honeymoon when her husband forgot his bride of a few hours who was awaiting him in the nuptial chamber. Happening to meet in the hotel some political acquaintances after the bride had retired, he became absorbed in a political discussion and—forgot! When he appeared after a prolonged absence and presented his excuses she was hurt in her pride and offended to think that she was of so little importance to him that he could become interested in talking politics.[[234]] There was anger too, and she vowed to herself to show, or, to use her own words, she “would be hanged if” she would show that she had any liking for or any interest in the marital intimacy. (She had never hitherto experienced any sexual feelings and, like most young girls, was entirely ignorant of the physical side. Nevertheless, from what she had been told, she had idealized the spiritual union of husband and wife and anticipated pleasurable experiences.) So purposely she repressed any interest, made herself absolutely indifferent to her spouse’s amorous attentions and experienced absolutely no sexual feeling; and so it continued for some days. In view of what later happened, and what we know of conflicts, we must believe that the impulses which carried her volition to fruition came from the emotions of anger, pride, and revenge.
Then one afternoon, just after she had finished dressing herself preparatory to going out, her husband came into her room and made advances to her. The idea appealed to her and she became emotionally excited at the thought. But in the middle of the act when the libido began to be aroused, suddenly she remembered that she had been snubbed at the first and that her rôle was to show no liking or interest. There were reawakened the emotions of pride, anger, and revenge, although not malicious revenge. Impelled by these emotions she actually gave herself suggestions to effect her purpose—a determination to get square with the past. She said to herself, “I must not like it; I must put it away back in my mind, I must become flabby as an oyster.” Thereupon she became “perfectly limp and uninterested and the feelings of flabbiness came over” her, and the beginning sexual feeling subsided at once. (That day she had eaten some raw oysters and had been impressed by them as the essence of flabbiness.) She admitted having continued during succeeding years to cherish this revengeful feeling as to the sexual relation—to get square with the past. She defended it, however, (although admitting the childishness of the original episode) on the ground that the slight to her pride must be viewed in connection with a long series of antecedent experiences. These must therefore be viewed as the setting which gave meaning to her idea of sexual relations with her husband. After this at the sexual approach under conventional marital conditions she for a time always volitionally induced this flabby “raw-oyster” sensation and feeling. Later it would automatically arise at the first indication or suggestion of the approach and counteract the libido. It was now no longer necessary to be on guard, knowing she could not be taken unawares. The consequence has been that the patient has never consciously experienced any sexual feeling beyond those first beginnings at the time of the experience when she was fully dressed. The patient can produce the “raw-oyster” state at will and exhibited it voluntarily during the examination. The state as then observed was one of lethargy or extreme relaxation. There was no general anæsthesia; pinching and pricking was felt perfectly, but, as she remarked, they carried no sensation of discomfort. “I do not care at the moment,” she explained, “what any one does to me; no sensation would cause pleasure or discomfort.” To arouse the state she thinks of the sexual approach first, and then the state comes. The sexual instinct has never been aroused by reading, or associative ideas of any kind. “It does not exist,” to quote her words.
Clothes became an amulet of protection in the following way: Ever since that afternoon when she was taken unawares in her clothes (and “almost liked it”) she realized and feared that sexual approaches when she was fully clothed might arouse the sexual instinct. Consequently she was more on her guard when fully clothed than at night for fear of being taken unawares. The idea that she must be on her guard when clothed became fixed, and, at first, when in this condition, she was always on her guard ready to defend herself by pugnacity. Then any approach at such times, if accompanied by physical contact, awakened an instinctive reaction which became a defense; it aroused the instincts of fear and anger. Any affectionate demonstration suggestive of the approach on the part of her husband would arouse these defensive instincts. On the other hand, when half dressed there has been no such ebullition of emotion; she has in consequence always believed that having clothes on would protect her against admirers. Indeed, as a fact, this is so, for any show of affection from any one manifested by a touch, even the friendly pat of the hand, will cause an unnecessary and unreasonable outburst of uncontrollable anger, such as to astonish and startle the offender. Clothes, becoming thus a sentiment in which the instincts of flight and pugnacity are incorporated, have also become a protection in themselves—an amulet to ward off danger.
What reason, it may be asked, is there for believing that the sexual instinct really exists in this case, and is only repressed or dissociated? I may not state all the reasons; it is sufficient to say that the evidence is to be found in dreams. The large number of sexual dreams which the subject has experienced, many of them accompanied by realistic sexual manifestations and not symbolic only, leave no doubt of this fact.[[235]]
Conflicts with subconscious sentiments. Thus far we have been considering conflicts between sentiments and emotional processes which have been in the full light of consciousness. But in previous lectures we have seen that ideas with strong emotional tones may be dissociated and function below the threshold of consciousness as coconscious processes. It is theoretically possible, therefore, that conflicts might arise between a dissociated coconscious sentiment and one that is antagonistic to it in consciousness. To appreciate this theoretical condition let me point out that there is one important difference between the ultimate consequences of the repression of an instinct and of a sentiment. If an instinct is repressed (it being only an innate disposition) it ceases to be an active factor in the functioning organism. It is inhibited. A stimulus that ordinarily suffices to excite it fails to do so, and it may respond only to an extraordinarily powerful stimulus, or perhaps none will awaken it. Thus abstinence from food fails to awaken a sense of hunger in a person who has lost this instinct for any reason, even though appetizing food be placed before him.[[236]] Similarly anger, or fear, or tender emotion, or self-assertion, or disgust, in certain persons cannot be awakened excepting by very unusual stimuli. In other words, the psycho-physiological reflex is completely or relatively in abeyance just as much so as is an organic reflex (e. g., the knee-jerk) which has been inhibited. Normally, of course, it is rare for an instinct to be absolutely inhibited excepting temporarily, as has been explained, during a conflict with another instinct. In certain pathological conditions (e. g., dissociated personality), almost any instinct may be persistently inhibited. In normal conditions there is, however, one exception, namely the sexual instinct, which, as we have seen from instances cited, may be inhibited during long periods of time. In women this inhibition is common and is effected, as I believe, by the subtle and insensible influence of the environment of the child and by social education, in other words, by the social taboo. Wherever inhibition occurs observation would seem to show that the psycho-physiological function has ceased to take part in the functioning organism.
With sentiments, however, the case stands differently. A sentiment, being an idea about which a system of emotional dispositions has been organized, when repressed by conflict, or when simply out of mind, whether capable of reproduction as memory or not, may, like all ideas, still be conserved, as we have seen, as an unconscious neurogram. As we have also seen, so long as it is conserved it is still a part of the personality. Even though repressed it is not necessarily absolutely inhibited but may be simply dissociated and then be able to take on dissociated subconscious activity. As a subconscious process the idea continues still organized with its emotional dispositions, and the conative forces of these, under certain conditions, may continue striving to give expression to the idea. We have already become familiar with one phenomenon of this striving, namely, the emerging into consciousness of the emotional element of the sentiment while the idea remains subconscious, thus producing an unaccountable fear or joy, feelings of pleasure or pain, etc. (p. 381).