Abstract
The social unconscious is an idea primarily linked to group analysis. This article argues that the unconscious is socially constructed and it is essential that we recognize the power of social forces on our psyche. While Freud’s concept of the super-ego implies the existence of a socially constructed aspect of the unconscious, I propose that if the unconscious is inherently social then the anxieties we experience and defend against are based on our need to belong rather than our fear of annihilation. Tracing these ideas through three individual case examples, I demonstrate that the cultural and societal roots of the unconscious are crucial to our understanding of the workings of individuals and of the groups to which they belong.
Introduction
A few weeks ago I was assessing a new patient: a Scottish man who has had a lifelong struggle with chronic anxiety and psychosomatic illness. On checking his details I noticed that he was born in 1940. I mentioned this to him during this first session, saying that I wondered if it was significant that he was born at the start of the war. We began to discuss his earliest memories—his father’s frequent absences and dangerous work on the docks—his awareness of his mother’s fear and isolation—the continual sounds of air-raid sirens. He said that he had always felt responsible for his mother, and that this feeling had never really left him. He had worked hard and built a successful career, but he had struggled to build relationships with women, feeling that he continually needed to please and protect them, but that he had never felt adequately loved and cared for in return. He had always avoided conflict and would walk away rather than confront angry feelings.
We realized that in a way the terrifying circumstances in which he had grown up had remained within him and that many of his deeply held attitudes and beliefs were shared by others in his community. Especially relevant was a sense that feelings could not and should not be shared, and that fear should never be acknowledged. This had left him and probably many others in his generation deeply anxious, ashamed of feelings and consequently very emotionally isolated.
As a psychodynamically trained individual therapist I have tended to focus my attention on close family relationships rather than social context, so this session took a different direction from the start. It seemed to make real sense, and led us to recognizing that some of his most deeply held attitudes and feelings had their roots not only in his family, but in the cultural and societal circumstances in which he grew up, and had unconsciously affected his relationships and choices very profoundly.
In this article I intend to explore the development of ideas about the social unconscious and how these impact on my work. I propose not only that the social unconscious has been overlooked in psychotherapy, but that the unconscious is inherently and essentially ‘social’, and therefore the idea of a specific ‘social unconscious’ is actually unnecessary.
The Development of the Idea of the Social Unconscious
The concept of the social unconscious is first mentioned by Foulkes in his book Therapeutic Group Analysis (1964) where he discusses how a group and its leader discover the nature of the problem behind a symptom. Whilst acknowledging the traditional Freudian concept of the unconscious, he introduces a new aspect of unconscious life, which he links particularly to the group setting. He writes:
Moreover, the individual is as much compelled by these colossal forces as by his own id and defends himself as strongly against their recognition without being aware of it, but in quite different ways and modes. One might speak of a social or interpersonal unconscious. (Foulkes, 1964: 52)
This is a very bold statement, and by implying that social factors could be thought of as colossal forces, Foulkes is potentially making a hugely important step away from Freud’s instinct and drive theory. Yet Foulkes does not expand on this idea, focussing his attention more on his concept of the matrix. Despite acknowledging the impact of interpersonal influences on shaping groups and societies, the matrix does not sufficiently embrace the idea of an unconscious being socially formed within individuals and groups.
Freud had already recognized the importance of social influences, which he located primarily in the super-ego, but he adhered to a theory which at its heart embodied an instinctual id struggling for survival in a hostile external world. However, in the light of the profound societal changes which took place in the mid 20th-century, I wonder whether he would eventually have developed a more socially based theory?
His description of the super-ego in his lecture The Dissection of the Psychical Personality (1964) clearly acknowledges the importance of the social:
. . . a child’s super-ego is in fact constructed on the model not of its parents but of its parents’ super-ego; the contents which fill it are the same and it becomes the vehicle of tradition and of all the time-resisting judgements of value which have propagated themselves in this manner from generation to generation . . . The past, the tradition of race and of the people, lives on in the ideologies of the super-ego, and yields only slowly to the influences of the present and to new changes; and so long as it operates through the super-ego it plays a powerful part in human life. (Freud, 1964: 99)
Here Freud is making some very important points. Not only is he suggesting that unconscious beliefs can be held and transmitted trans-generationally, but he is also acknowledging that cultural and societal ideologies and ideas reside in a part of the unconscious which is innately social. But, as Ormay points out, the fact that psychoanalysts continue to locate the social in the super-ego has been restricting:
What is missing in psychoanalysis is a direct representation of the bigger human context. The superego goes towards it to some extent, but it falls short because it is only part of the ego . . . a genuine shared social function is missing. (Ormay, 2001: 172)
In recent years, and particularly in the last decade, the idea of the social unconscious has been widely explored in group analytical theory. This coincides not only with recent developments in more relational models of psychoanalysis (e.g. Mitchell, 1988), but also with major new discoveries in neuroscience and brain development. Stacey (2005) summarises current research showing how social interaction is essential to both body regulation and brain development. In the light of these scientific discoveries, the essentially social nature of man cannot be ignored. As Stacey writes:
. . . the body requires and will therefore provoke, attachment and separation actions for the purpose of physiological regulation and it is in this sense that we can say that the human body is a social body. Evolution has produced humans whose physiological states can only be maintained by certain kinds of social behaviour. (Stacey, 2005: 3)
Writers such as Hopper (2001; 2003; 2007; 2011), Dalal (1998; 2001), Weinberg (2007) and Stacey (2003; 2005) have been developing a lively discourse on the idea of the social unconscious, basing much of their thinking on the ideas of sociologists contemporary with Foulkes, who seemed less constrained by Freudian theory and were able to embrace new ideas such as Marxist philosophy with more freedom.
Interestingly, Foulkes’ term ‘social unconscious’ is not original. In his book Chains of Freedom (1962) Erich Fromm devotes a whole chapter to the concept—two years before it is mentioned by Foulkes. Fromm’s ideas are certainly referred to by group analysts, in particular Hopper (2001; 2003; 2007b), but I am intrigued that Fromm’s contribution has not been better acknowledged. Fromm brings Freud’s theory of the unconscious into the context of Marxist philosophy, which emphasizes the essentially social nature of man. Citing Marx’s dictum ‘It is not the consciousness of men that determines his existence, but on the contrary, it is their social existence that determines consciousness’, Fromm concludes that: ‘While man believes that his thoughts mould his social existence, the facts are the reverse: his social reality moulds his thought (1962: 98).’ Essentially Fromm’s notion of the social unconscious is based on Freud’s idea of an unconscious determined by repression. He suggests that individuals not only repress parts of themselves, but also that which is unconsciously repressed by society. In a footnote comparing his ideas with those of Jung, Fromm gives us a useful definition:
The concept of the social unconscious starts out with the notion of the repressive character of society and refers to that specific part of human experience which a given society does not permit to reach awareness; it is that part of humanity in man which his society has estranged from him; the social unconscious is the socially repressed part of the universal psyche. (Fromm, 1962: 108)
The most prominent contemporary exponents of the social unconscious such as Dalal (1998), Stacey (2003; 2005) and Hopper and Weinberg (2011) seem to have been less influenced by Marxist ideas and more inclined to turn to the work of the social psychologists Mead (1934) and Elias (2001), who were exploring ideas which saw the individual and the group as a more dichotomous interrelated entity.
Mead believed that the notion of a self arises in the process of communication and interaction—‘the individual possesses a self only in relation to the selves of other members of his social group (1934: 164)’. He suggested that humans shape their actions through a continual process of gesture and response and that the sense of a mind is co-constructed by society through the medium of language, so that even our most private thoughts are socially formed. It is therefore inevitable that both our conscious and unconscious lives are continually being formed and influenced by our experience in relation to others.
Elias’s theories really embrace the idea that individuals are embedded in their cultural roots. Stacey suggests that Elias’s notion of the unconscious is therefore completely different to the ideas of Freud:
. . . the key distinction relates to the use of the spatial metaphor of mind inside and social outside a person. This distinction is fundamental to Freudian thought . . . but it is completely rejected by Elias in his process theory of mind and society. (Stacey, 2003: 20)
Especially relevant is Elias’s suggestion (2001) that individuals are continually constrained by the demands of their social milieu and by the necessity of conforming and belonging. He believes that identity is therefore based not on instinctual elements such as greed and envy, but on feelings such as shame, repugnance, embarrassment and self-control, which are more socially constructed. These constraints form an inherent part of the structures of power, and develop into what Elias calls the social ‘habitus’ of particular groups and cultures and the basis for individual identities. It is therefore impossible to talk of a separate ‘I’ or a separate ‘we’—they are merely aspects of one another.
The Social Unconscious and Object Relations Theory
These social theorists were proposing a concept of an unconscious which is very different to the ideas developed by Freud’s followers in the psychoanalytic tradition.
Melanie Klein’s (1975) theories for example are inherently based on the idea of internal versus external aspects of the psyche. She sees the infant as the primary source of its emotional world, viewing the first and most primitive experience of life and of unconscious phantasy as emanating from the inner experience. The belief is that an infant only gradually develops the capacity to have a more realistic relationship with its environment and as it does so will have to cope with the disillusionment of the depressive position.
Winnicott (1971), somewhat more ‘relationally’ oriented, still views development in terms of a gradual separation and relinquishment of omnipotent control within the mother/baby dyad. Group analytical theories however emphasize a more synonymous link between external and internal experiences. As Dalal (1998) suggests, this does not mean that splitting does not take place, but that an infant is born into an environment already containing socially formed ideas of what is good and bad/ safe or unsafe. Anxiety is therefore experienced as a consequence of a socially formed internal phantasy, based on what is perceived to be dangerous. These ‘judgements of value’ arise through the social environment. They are ingested in all processes of thought, experience and language, becoming the basis of our deepest psyche. These are the constraints and restraints to which Hopper refers (Hopper, 2001; Hopper and Weinberg, 2011).
We defend ourselves in order to prevent anxiety, so that if we regard ourselves as essentially social beings we are not so much afraid of annihilation or of our own destructiveness as Kleinians believe, but of being abandoned, ostracised and helpless. From this perspective defence mechanisms such as denial, projection and splitting are constructed to keep us together, rather than just protect us internally, prompting us to develop feelings such as shame, embarrassment, disgust, contempt and also superiority and disdain. We are not naturally ashamed of ourselves, but we ingest ideas which help to keep us safe as a group entity and as individuals within our social grouping. As Hopper suggests:
The motivation for remaining unconscious of social objects is the need to regulate the anxiety that would follow from recognition of them and from understanding the nature of their constraints especially in connection with a sense of helplessness and powerlessness. (Hopper, 2011: li)
I recently had an interesting example of this in my work with a 40-year-old man whom I shall call Edmund.
Example
Edmund is the son of a local landowner, and has begun to take over the management of the family farm and of a tenanted village, which he is due to inherit. He is extremely self-conscious when we first meet, and can barely look at me. For many months he struggles to allow himself to walk into the consulting room and can hardly bear to start speaking.
He feels enormously burdened by his inheritance, but has also been resentful of his father’s inability to let go and allow him take charge. He has been frustrated by his father’s sense of duty to farm the land ‘ethically’ and not exploit his tenants. The rents have not been raised for decades, and Edmund feels that the family are often exploited and put under moral pressure. Recently Edmund has made significant strides to extricate himself from his father’s influence and make his own decisions. Yet he is puzzled to find himself similarly embarrassed and confused by his position, also struggling to assert his authority as the landowner. Recently we have been reflecting on why he should find himself behaving so similarly to his father, despite recognizing the problems this has caused.
The estate was purchased by his great grandfather, who was a businessman, so has belonged to the family for little more than a century. We have begun to wonder whether the fact that his family were not part of the ‘landed gentry’ meant that they did not really feel ‘entitled’ to their wealth and are uncomfortable and ashamed of the position that they hold.
Edmund says that he does not really know where he fits in. At his public school he felt different to the others. ‘It was like being an island.’ He also feels that he does not belong amongst the locals. He wants to be ‘ordinary’ but has to ‘prove his worth’ by working harder than his employees. Through our discussions he has begun to appreciate how these powerful attitudes have been transmitted through generations of his family and he has started to explore how he can take ownership of his life more consciously and proactively.
It has been interesting to recognize that privilege does not necessarily bring power, and that in many ways Edmund and his family have felt constrained rather than enabled by their wealth. Certainly Edmund seems quite envious of the villagers and their sense of belonging and entitlement. This brings to mind Elias and Scotson’s study, cited by Stacey (2003) and Dalal (1998), showing the impact of inclusion and exclusion in terms of unconsciously held group identity. Edmund’s family essentially view themselves as ‘outsiders’ and therefore unconsciously feel disadvantaged despite their obvious advantage. What is pertinent in my work with Edmund is the idea that his self-consciousness and embarrassment relate not to his individual personality structure, nor to an inherent fear of others, but to a deeper sense of unease transmitted through generations of his family who feel ashamed and uncomfortable about being associated with a class of society to which they do not inherently belong. It brings to the fore the extent to which issues of class and social standing are buried in the social unconscious and are, as Brown describes, ‘taken in with mother’s milk (2001: 31).’ This would assume that at the very deepest level we are fundamentally socially structured.
Hopper (2003) proposes that analysis of the social unconscious involves adding a fourth area to Malan’s ‘triangle of insight’ (Malan, 1979), to include a ‘there and then’ aspect to interpretations; in other words including an awareness of the importance of what has preceded a patient’s own experience and has been trans-generationally transmitted. Certainly for Edmund, gaining a sense of how much his basic attitudes and beliefs may be embedded in the social history of his family has helped him understand himself from a very important additional perspective.
The Social Unconscious and Group Life
A question which has caused much debate in group analytical circles is whether groups inherently possess an unconscious life. Hopper (2007b) argues that if groups do not have brains and bodies they cannot share minds. But although he disregards the notion of a group mind, Hopper does believe that groups have very specific responses to extreme trauma, which prompts them to act as one organism. This has led him to conceive of a fourth ‘Basic Assumption’ in addition to Bion’s three ‘Basic Assumptions’ (1961) of dependency, fight/flight and pairing. Hopper (2007a) proposes that under severe pressure groups develop primitive inter-personal defences to cope with the threat of annihilation. He suggests that if the very existence of the group is in peril, a phenomenon occurs which protects it from extinction. Under such conditions a group will either ‘massify’—behave as a single mass, or ‘aggregate’—divide and separate. He calls this Fourth Assumption Incohesion: aggregation/massification (I: A/M).
This is an extremely important idea, but I think it adds confusion to Hopper’s notion that groups do not have minds. Surely to suggest that in certain circumstances groups act unconsciously as a unit, but generally cannot be conceived of as a single organism weakens his argument. I also believe that if group analysis is to be a truly ‘social’ theory, then groups and individuals have to be conceived of as a dichotomous entity; as two sides of the same coin.
Recently I have been working with a number of members of a local ‘traveller’ community made up of several inter-related family groups. Over the years I have noticed some fundamental attitudes held by the group which have a huge impact on their lives. For example, every family member has to concede to their elders without question. In addition they are intensely loyal; they are expected to marry within the community and are shunned and disowned by their families and the community if they leave. My growing awareness of the idea of the social unconscious has helped me to understand the attitudes and difficulties experienced by this particular group much more clearly, especially in my recent work with a patient whom I shall call Tracey:
Example
Tracey is the mother of two young children and has had a lifelong struggle with debilitating anxiety. She also seems very strong and is determined that her children should become well educated and confident. In a recent session she told me that she has recently managed with great effort to go for a walk with a friend but that she had been overwhelmed by the fear that if she had been alone she would not have been able to get back.
We discuss the possibility that she is afraid that she might act on a wish to run away, but I also suggest that she might believe that if she is alone she will not be able to keep herself safe. This resonates profoundly with her.
As a child she had never been allowed to go out alone; even when she was old enough to go out with boys she always had to be chaperoned by her sister. In fact, she said, this was the case for everyone in the community—if she had disobeyed she would have been shunned and shamed. She did spend some years married to an ‘outsider’ which had meant leaving the community altogether and being ostracized by everyone, including her family. She was able to return once her marriage dissolved, but although she was glad to be accepted again, she also felt trapped and resentful.
A few weeks before, a friend who is not from the community failed to turn up at a pre-arranged meeting. When Tracey made a distressed call to her friend’s husband, she could not understand why he was not worried, criticizing him for being ‘uncaring’. Discussing this, she said that she had always believed that if you worried about someone it meant that you loved them, but she realized that although this made her feel close and ‘safe’, it also contributed to her sense of being trapped, and was probably another device used unconsciously by the community to keep everyone interdependent and close.
Being able to reflect on her fears in terms of deeply held communal attitudes and beliefs has helped Tracey to challenge some deep assumptions and realize that she may not be as inherently anxious as she believes.
It could be helpful to consider the ghettoized defensive system which has been created by this community in terms of Hopper’s (2007a) basic assumption of ‘massification’. I wonder whether in groups such as travellers who have been marginalized by society over countless generations, the community does behave as a traumatized entity, so that their belief that they have to protect one another will be unconsciously transmitted as a crucial part of their group identity. In which case, it is fascinating to see how these constructed beliefs can become so embedded in the unconscious lives of its individual members. As Volkan suggests, groups who have experienced severe threat are almost frozen in their trauma, and this becomes an integral part of their shared identity:
Within virtually every large group there exists a shared mental representation of a traumatic past event during which the large group suffered loss and/or experienced helplessness, shame and humiliation in a conflict with a larger group. The transgenerational transmission of such a shared traumatic event is linked to the past generation’s inability to mourn losses of people, land or prestige and indicates the large group’s failure to reverse narcissistic injury and humiliation in a conflict with another large group. (Volkan 2001: 87)
What is pertinent is that this traveller group appear to have co-constructed a complete belief system. Much of this is clearly conscious; they are aware of their pride, their moral sense, their attitudes and code of conduct. However, as seen so clearly in Tracey’s case, there is much that is also held in the unconscious life of the individual members of the group, especially regarding issues of separation and attachment. I would suggest that these attitudes have been both consciously and unconsciously constructed by the group as a whole and would therefore agree with Weinberg:
When I use the term ‘social unconscious’ I do not mean to say that social systems have brains, or that they behave as an organism. What I mean is that they behave as if their members have similar elements in their unconscious. They share anxieties, fantasies, defences, myths, and national memories. They co-construct a shared unconscious . . . The idea of the social unconscious assumes that some specific hidden myths and motives guide the behaviour of a certain society or culture. It also assumes that a large group or society might use some shared defences. In the same manner that unconscious forces drive an individual without knowing it, a group, an organization or the entire society can act upon unconscious forces too. (Weinberg, 2007: 309)
Conclusion
What I think is poignant about these ideas is whether we really ever have independent agency. If all our thoughts and actions originate from our social experience, can we call ourselves ‘individuals’ at all? If our unconscious is innately ‘social through and through’ it is already a social unconscious, and to use the term is not only unnecessary, but reinforces a dichotomy that is unhelpful.
I do believe that if the intention of psychotherapy is to allow us to make choices with greater freedom and consciousness, then it is absolutely essential that we are aware of the sociality of our unconscious; crucial both to our understanding of ourselves, of the groups to which we belong and the attitudes and thoughts with which we frame our lives.