The Unconscious: Theory,Research,and Clinical Implications

This volume ¹ is the third in the Psychoanalysis and Psychological Science Series edited by Elliot Jurist. The authors, Joel Weinberger and Valentina Stoycheva, aim to summarize and synthesize a now extensive literature from cognitive neuroscience, experimental psychology, and social psychology that demonstrates the importance of unconscious processes in human mental functioning, and then to suggest its implications for psychotherapy practice. As the authors acknowledge, this is an ambitious undertaking with the goal of reaching “an understanding of unconscious processes” (p. ix). As the psychoanalyst and researcher Howard Shevrin (2000) has observed, the domains of cognitive science and psychotherapy remain difficult to bridge:

The experimental psychologist and the psychoanalyst live and breathe in totally different ambiences. . . . the clinician is primarily concerned with singularity . . . with the uniqueness of the person on the couch, . . . the experimental psychologist is concerned with generality, the functions and processes shared across people [p. 256].

Shevrin went on to hope that these disparate disciplines can consider the gaps between worlds “as a challenge and opportunity and not simply as a pitfall to be avoided” (p. 258). This volume is an effort of the kind Shevrin had in mind, and aims toward a worthy but difficult goal.

The authors are both practicing therapists, and Weinberger has founded a consulting firm that works with a variety of groups to understand how implicit cognition shapes our perception of information. Based on the text, I am compelled to assume that their therapy practices are built on cognitive-behavioral therapy and its derivatives. References to psychodynamic thought are few and lacking in depth.

A strength of the book is the authors’ consistent effort to carefully read and critique the original research, identify weaknesses, and identify subsequent research that addresses those concerns. An important early example is their summary of William James’s thought (1890), which has frequently been misunderstood as rejecting unconscious processes. In fact, in a careful reading the authors document that James understood conscious thoughts to be “embedded in contexts made up of experiences associated with those thoughts,” which James described as “psychic overtone” or “fringe,” influencing conscious ideas but generally outside of conscious awareness (p. 26). James, who met Freud when the latter came to the U.S. to deliver his lectures at Clark University, reportedly said to him, “the future of psychology belongs to your work” (reported by Jones [1955, p. 57] and quoted in this book on page 27).

The book begins with several chapters (Part I) covering the long period when unconscious mental processes were disregarded within mainstream academic psychology. This was in part due to the persistent influence of philosophical assumptions that mental functions are by definition conscious (see, e.g., Descartes’ cogito ergo sum), underlying the classical philosophical insistence that the only relevant aspects of mind and being are found in consciousness. The authors add that Descartes’ dictum “could just as readily have been stated as ‘I am aware, therefore I am’” (p. 10). Note the authors’ implicit equation of “thinking” (cogito) and “awareness,” as though perception and thought are one and the same—a minor but revealing conflation. In a similar vein, throughout the book the authors seem to consider consciousness to be only simple consciousness: awareness, perception of the environment, the capacity to form explicit memory. The far more complex processes that underlie reflective self-awareness (possibly a uniquely human capacity) are not addressed beyond aspects of the impact of implicit knowing and memory.

A neglect of unconscious processes persisted through most of the twentieth century, a period during which academic psychology was dominated by behavioral approaches that explicitly excluded the study of subjective processes that could not be directly observed in behavior or measured physiologically (Taschereau-Dumouchel et al. 2022). These objections were, of course, the same resistance Freud (1915) outlined when he proposed unconscious mental processes: a reluctance to accept mental processes unknown to consciousness.

The authors acknowledge that the assumption of unconscious mental life is central to psychoanalytic thought. Various psychoanalytic perspectives on the unconscious are summarized in a single rather dated chapter that considers several schools of thought (classical, ego psychological, British object relations, self psychology, and intersubjective and relational approaches). Referencing Drew Westen (1998), the authors conclude that all these “models converge on certain points”: “the importance of unconscious processes in human functioning,” the idea “that unconscious processes . . . are affectively charged, nonrational. . . . formed under the crucial influence of early experiences,” are inaccessible to conscious introspection, and consist of “fantasies, composed of representations and the connections between them . . . as templates through which experiences are understood and organized” (p. 50). I note that Westen’s 1998 paper, “The Scientific Status of Unconscious Processes”—though not completely up to date now and less comprehensive overall—covers in a single dense exposition much the same ground as the first three parts of this book.

Despite their recognizing the psychoanalytic literature as “an embarrassment of riches concerning unconscious processes” (p. 49), the authors proceed to systematically ignore the more contemporary psychoanalytic literature that investigates these processes, including important work from Shevrin’s group (see, e.g., Brakel et al. 2000; Bazan et al. 2013; Shevrin et al. 2013); and that of Panksepp (2014) and Solms (2021; Kaplan-Solms and Solms 2000; Solms and Turnbull 2002). Also neglected is the work of the Boston Change Process Study Group (2002, 2018), which leans heavily on implicit learning and memory—processes central to the theses of this book. Beyond the chapter surveying psychoanalytic theories, the rare allusion to psychoanalytic perspectives is typically undercut by comments about the lack of “supporting empirical data” (p. 108). To my mind, the insistence on empirical evidence based on controlled studies of the functioning of normal subjects in a lab setting is so restrictive as to almost preclude the development of any theory based on observations of a suffering individual (or even groups of such individuals).

Part II describes the gradually renewed recognition of unconscious processes within mainstream psychology, what the authors refer to as “the normative unconscious”—largely automatic, nonconflictual cognitive processes. Since the studies being summarized do not address processes most relevant to psychoanalytic observation (e.g., subjectivity, autobiographical memory, and its reworking over time, where unconscious dynamic processes are most evident), much of this research literature does not bear on the everyday work of psychoanalysts (Modell 2008). The unconscious processes emphasized by Weinberger and Stoycheva have been studied extensively in experimental cognitive psychology and social psychology, including implicit learning and memory, automaticity (approximately procedural knowing), and implicit motivations (closely related to inborn needs or possibly psychoanalytic drives). A brief chapter reviews research relevant to each of these. While this body of research is important, from another perspective it only empirically demonstrates that the mind relies on many processes that are not and never will be available to self-reflective consciousness. Individual unconscious meaning systems or elaborated internal representations with their associated affective significance are not accessible using these methods (Modell 2008). The careful explication of some of these unconscious processes does offer important insights into development, learning, persistent biases and prejudice, transference, and, importantly, some aspects of mental inflexibility or resistance to change. Many of these chapters end with a consideration of the implications of research findings for the practice of psychotherapy.

Part III examines several attempts to model how the brain functions, which have emerged over the past forty years in the fields of artificial intelligence and computational neuroscience. Theoretical models of this kind invariably assume that much of the mind is operating out of consciousness. Difficult questions about the nature and source of consciousness are not addressed, except to pronounce consciousness unreliable for reporting the source of learning or basis of motivation. Perhaps even more significant is that self-reflective consciousness is not addressed at all. The authors consider almost exclusively cognitive consciousness (e.g., does the subject of the study acknowledge consciousness of having seen the stimulus?). Nevertheless, it is clear, as the authors assert, that consciousness is a small aspect of mind, a capacity possibly reserved for problems that cannot be managed by more automatic mental processes. The authors also summarize research studies demonstrating that affective salience is a critical factor in both perception and recall. Of course, salience is a function of life experience and varies between individuals.

In Part IV the authors provide their own synthesis of the research literature, ultimately offering strong support for a model of Parallel Distributed Processing (PDP) combined with the theory of Neural Reuse (recruiting old neural systems to serve new functions). These models propose that most cognitive processing occurs unconsciously in parallel and simultaneous neuronal networks outside consciousness. Formation of these networks depends on the capacity of neuronal connections to be potentiated or inhibited based on simultaneity of activation or inhibition of the relevant connections—a known feature of synaptic function. PDP simulations do indeed “learn”—though no model has achieved the kind of complexity required to model even fairly simple mental processes. And none could accommodate the kind of reflective meaning-making and motivated “screening” of mental life so familiar to psychotherapists and psychoanalysts.

Since I agree that psychoanalysts need to be less insular and should be at least somewhat familiar with research in cognitive science, sociology, cultural studies, and neuroscience, I applaud the intention of this book to bring these sciences to both psychoanalytic theorists and practicing therapists. At a minimum, the experimental studies in both cognitive science and neuroscience can set constraints on the theories we build to understand mental processes. However, I doubt that most practicing psychoanalysts would find much of immediate relevance to their daily work. I will try to highlight some of the observations that I personally found most relevant to my clinical work as a psychoanalyst.

A central observation over the last century has been that people can learn and retain information that has not been consciously perceived and is not remembered (in fact the person will often actively deny ever having seen or heard the information). This has been demonstrated in various ways (e.g., through subliminal stimuli presented at a duration or intensity below the threshold of conscious perception or through priming, the simple presentation of a stimulus just prior to a task that can affect its performance). Such protocols give rise to implicit learning and subsequent implicit memory, which is currently understood as a function of concurrent neuronal activation causing facilitated neuronal connections within the relevant networks, modules, nodes or “processing units” in PDP models (see chapter 20). There is evidence that humans exert some degree of selection on what we implicitly process (through selective attention, defensive avoidance of unpleasant information, or simply greater facility with decoding). There is also evidence that affective states influence what is processed. These ideas would be familiar to and readily accepted by any psychoanalyst, I think, though such motivated attention or inattention gets little coverage here.

Of even greater interest, I believe, is the observation that implicit learning is demonstrable very early in development. Implicit understanding of situations, including social constructs and affectively charged relational patterns, can be quite complex though inaccessible to conscious reflection (as explored by the Boston Change Process Study Group); further, such learning is rapid, needs little repetition or reinforcement, and is remarkably persistent and difficult to modify or extinguish. Thus, one forms one’s subjectivity—one’s personal unconscious core understandings about the world, about the self and others, and about relationships—very early on, though of course cognitive capacities and meaning structures (ways of understanding experience) are elaborated in an ongoing way throughout life. This statement is entirely consistent with psychoanalytic theories. Conscious efforts to modify implicit ways of perceiving and understanding the world require great and repetitive effort. Conscious efforts to attend to external cues that may stimulate automatic responses may even be counterproductive because such efforts may in fact prime undesired automatic responses (clearly a problem for cognitive-behavioral treatments).

Also of note is the body of research that supports unconscious processing of affective cues in scenes to rapidly form global judgments of “good/bad,” “approach/avoid,” possibly even before cognitive assessment of a situation (though the question of priority is not yet fully resolved). Another way to think about these data is that these studies support the psychoanalytic concept of “psychic reality,” the uniquely determined unconscious subjectivity of the individual, relevant to both cognitive and affective responses.

Weinberger and Stoycheva also consider the concept of “implicit motivations” (pp. 186–197), defined as “unconscious psychosocial motivations of behavior, usually assessed through narratives” (p. 321) and typified by “achievement,” “affiliation,” “power,” or “intimacy.” Motivational needs are presented as a modern alternative to Freudian drives (as variously conceived and labeled) but are apparently less closely linked to biology and, more important, significantly shaped by psychosocial factors in development (learning, early affectively charged interactions, parental attitudes, culture). I sense that the authors may be unaware of the shift in psychoanalytic thought toward a more developmentally informed construct of drives as inborn needs that acquire specific forms and goals through experiences of gratification or frustration beginning in the early infant caregiver matrix (see, e.g., Loewald 1978; Westen 1997; Solms 2021).

Perhaps the richest section of the book for psychoanalysts is chapter 17, “From Metaphor to Embodied Cognition,” which draws heavily on the work of George Lakoff regarding bodily metaphors as a basis of thought (“warm” smiles, “heavy” burdens, “distant” relationships), with demonstrable bodily correlates. Remarkably, this is the only portion of the book that considers the place of the body in mental life. Even the discussion of affects is centered on the cognitive component of affect—the meanings we attach to bodily feeling states.

On balance, Weinberger and Stoycheva have given us an excellent reference book regarding the cognitive unconscious (which is clearly important in every element of everyday mental life); they offer a sobering portrait of how humans are not masters of their own minds, behaviors, or choices. But their book will disappoint anyone looking for an appreciation of unconscious conflicts, dynamics, or relationships. The mind as presented here is more machine than human, programmed early on and functioning largely on “automatic pilot.” It is difficult to recognize in these pages my patient who struggles with intense obsessional fears of being a pedophile, or a depressed patient who remains isolated because she fears she will destroy anyone who gets close to her. Nor does the book offer any way to comprehend the dramatic transformations that can take place in psychoanalytic patients through the experience of psychoanalytic intimacy; intersubjective recognition; the reworking of trauma; the reshaping of internal object relations; and the freedom that comes from resolution of psychic conflicts.