Reading Ogden: On Psychoanalytic Virtues

Part 1 of a 3-part series by Adam Rodriguez on the work of Thomas Ogden

Adam J. Rodríguez, PsyD is a psychoanalytic psychologist in private practice in Portland, OR. He is the editor and a contributor to “Know That You Are Worthy: Experiences from First-Generation College Graduates” (2023) with Rowman & Littlefield. He can be reached at adam@dradamrodriguez.com.

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Thomas H. Ogden is a writer, as well as a psychoanalyst. What I mean by this is not just that he has written numerous articles and books on psychoanalysis and other topics. I mean that literature and writing, as a form of expression and art, is central to his personality. Ogden is dedicated to the styles and techniques of how we express ourselves through the written word. The volume of his work is prolific and his articles are among the most heavily cited in the psychoanalytic literature. He has written or co-written 13 books and over 60 articles.¹ He also written 3 novels.   

Beyond the volume, diversity, and clinical value of his psychoanalytic writing, is a writer with a unique voice. It is a voice that evokes Miles Davis. It is clean, warm, elegant, and erudite, with an immaculate tone. For comparison, Adam Phillips, equally brilliant, to my ear evokes John Coltrane: a torrent of sophisticated, stream-of-consciousness notes that pound against the senses with a flood of intense activity. Ogden’s voice uses language playfully but with great purpose. He reminds the reader that “if we cannot sense something human, however faint, in the experience of reading an analytic paper, a poem, an essay, or a novel, then we come away empty-handed” (Ogden, 1997a, p. 6). It is perhaps Ogden’s greatest strength that a soulful connection to humanity is abundant and rich throughout his writings. 

In this paper, I will discuss his 2005 article What I Would Not Part With. It is a personal essay in which Ogden describes those values which are “at the core of how [he] practice[s] psychoanalysis, and who [he is] as a psychoanalyst” (Ogden, 2005b, p. 8). Even more significantly, I believe that the chapter meets an important criterion as articulated by Ogden (2011): “What makes for a timeless paper in any discipline is the way in which it is not only an original statement of present understandings, but also constitutes a memoir of the future” (p. 926). What I Would Not Part With appears to exist in a transitional space of Ogden’s work, between what I call “early Ogden” and “later Ogden” describing what Ogden believed as essential to his work while foretelling important aspects of his future work.

Early Ogden is epistemological, richly theoretical, and primarily focused on thinking and one’s internal object world. It includes detailed analyses of such theoretical concepts as projective identification (Ogden, 1979), the introduction of the autistic-contiguous position (Ogden, 1988, 1989), the resolution of the oedipal complex (Ogden, 1987), the paranoid-schizoid and depressive positions (Ogden, 1988), intersubjectivity and the analytic third (Ogden, 1994), and the use of reverie in interpretation (Ogden, 1997b). Later Ogden is primarily focused on the ontological, or how we come to be more fully ourselves. It includes an elaboration of the “art” of psychoanalysis (Ogden, 2004a), rediscovering and reinventing psychoanalysis anew with each patient (Ogden, 2009), intuition, memory, and desire (Ogden, 2015), language and truth in psychoanalysis (Ogden, 2016), dreaming the analytic session (Ogden, 2017), and how we come into being as subjects (Ogden, 2019). 

Ogden warns us against attempts to understand the writings of an author through bits and fragments of their work. He tells us that “to simply discuss a paraphrased version of some of the ideas developed in an analytic paper is to lose touch with the fact that the paper is a piece of writing. The words, syntax, voice, sentence and paragraph structure, and so on, together contribute to the effects created and the ideas conveyed in the medium of language” (Ogden, 2006, p. 1070-1071). This paper, flying in the face of Ogden’s warning, will look at one of Ogden’s many pieces of writing, to say something about what it means to read Ogden overall. Or, it may be more accurate to say what it is like for me to read Ogden and how that relates to how I imagine him as an author, theorist, and clinician. The reader then must interpret what I have written through their own understanding to imagine Ogden, and me. Ogden (1992) opens his third book, The Primitive Edge of Experience, with a quotation that captures this idea well: 

“This book, having been written, has become part of the given and must now be overcome in the minds of its reader and its author. Having been written, it is static and no longer becoming anything other than itself. The potential value of this book lies in the degree to which it creates a possibility for the given (of which it is now a part) to be overcome through interpretation by the reader in a new and more generative way.” (p. 1) 

The sentiment captured in this paragraph speaks to the intersubjective interpretation of experience. Meaning is jointly created. What Ogden has written cannot be anything in and of itself. It must be created anew by the reader and utilizable by them in some form, consciously and unconsciously, to create and re-create, something alive in the mind of that reader.

With reference to the title², Ogden (2005b) clarifies precisely what he means when referring to what he would not part with:

“When I speak of analytic values, what I have in mind is not a psychoanalytic morality nor a code of ethical conduct; neither am I referring to a set of concepts that I believe to be essential to psychoanalysis (for example, the notion of the dynamic unconscious, transference, and defense). Rather, in speaking of psychoanalytic values, I am referring to those ways of being and ways of seeing that characterize the distinctive manner in which each of us practices psychoanalysis.” (p. 8) 

Ogden is consistently contending with how our words and sentences are inexact and unable to fully express what it means to be human. Yet, the endeavor of psychoanalysis and psychoanalytic therapy exists in a space of words and language and our attempts to think, feel, and express through them. They are ephemeral, slippery, sometimes static and sometimes dynamic, and fluid. We contend with attempting to communicate our subjectivity to others within the bounds of an imperfect and finite system. Ogden regularly not only acknowledges this tension but writes and speaks from within it. The result is sometimes a maddening sense of confusion, but the reader in that way, as is true of reading Bion, gains something of a subjective experience of the ideas being conveyed. They are confusing and confounding, just as psychoanalysis can be, just as being human is. 

In this quotation, however, Ogden wishes to be clear in what he suggests. He is invested in the reader understanding precisely what he means. He continues: “In this chapter I will attempt to convey to the reader values that lie at the core of the way I practice psychoanalysis, and of who I am as a psychoanalyst” (p. 8). This is a personal paper. Ogden is sharing something of himself and what is meaningful to him. It is not proselytizing a way to be a psychoanalyst, although at times there are elements of such conviction. Rather, he acknowledges that each analyst has a “distinctive” way they practice, stating quite clearly that what Ogden is about to elaborate is what is true for him.

I – Being Humane

The first value that Ogden articulates is that of Being Humane. Ogden is clear that each aspect of one’s value system is inseparable from another; however, he does acknowledge a hierarchy. For him, “what is most fundamental to psychoanalysis is the principle that an analyst treats his patient - and all those his patient’s life impinges upon - in a humane way, in a way that at all times honors human dignity” (p. 8). He describes this value as the “North Star” of psychoanalysis and extends its importance, saying “when an analyst is not being humane, what he is doing with the patient is not recognizable to me as psychoanalysis” (p. 8). Ogden is stating clearly and unequivocally that being inhumane negates being psychoanalytic. The two are mutually exclusive concepts for him. The guiding principle and foundation of the work requires that one act with humanity toward the other. Without it, there can be no psychoanalysis. 

One element of being humane with a patient means that we do not condone inhumane behavior directed at the self, like intense self-harm or self-reproach. We respond to such inhumanity not with revulsion but an understanding that the patient’s behavior is “an urgent plea for the analyst’s aid” (p. 9). In circumstances of extreme inhumanity, he provides the examples of leaving children unattended for long periods of time or torturing animals, the analyst “must treat the situation as an emergency requiring decisive action” and that, referencing Winnicott, “under such circumstances, it is incumbent upon the analyst not to cease being a psychoanalyst, but to become a psychoanalyst doing something else” (p. 9).

This aligns with Ogden’s attitudes and views on psychoanalysis as an institution. He sees psychoanalysis as a tool to help him understand what happens in the consulting room. It provides him theories and metaphors which can be utilized to explain what is happening with a patient and help shape how he may interact and respond with a patient, but the institution of psychoanalysis is not superordinate to the patient and their needs. At all times, the needs of the patient, and those impacted by the patient, take priority. We behave with patients in a manner that respects and protects their humanity.

II – Facing the Music

This value involves “the effort on the part of the analyst and the patient … to be honest with themselves in the face of disturbing emotional experience” (Ogden, 2005b, p. 10). He considers this to be at the heart of psychoanalysis and, like being humane, notes that a psychoanalysis that exists without it, cannot be true and alive. Ogden writes: “I view psychoanalysis as most fundamentally an effort by patient and analyst to put into words what is true to the patient’s emotional experience” (p. 10). Ogden continuously wrestles with the idea of truth, where we find what is alive and facilitative of growth. Truth and aliveness, and how they relate to one another, are repeated themes in Ogden’s work.

To determine what is true in any analytic moment, we begin from the premise that what is produced in each analytic moment is an intersubjective creation of two minds/subjectivities coming together and creating a third entity, unique to that pair. The intersubjectivity of psychoanalysis is abundant throughout Ogden’s work, most notably in his concept of “the analytic third.” He frequently cites Winnicott’s, “there is no such thing as an infant [without the maternal provision]” (Winnicott, 1960, p. 39, fn), which Ogden extends to the idea that there is no such thing as an analysand apart from the relationship to the analyst. The relationship between analyst and analysand creates a new, third subject which he calls “the analytic third.” The analytic third consists of the analyst, the patient/analysand, and a third entity which is both/neither the analyst and the patient, as each individual subjectivity continuously “create[ing], negat[ing], and preserv[ing] the other” (Ogden, 1994, p.4).

Ogden frequently cites Winnicott’s, “there is no such thing as an infant [without the maternal provision]”, which Ogden extends to the idea that there is no such thing as an analysand apart from the relationship to the analyst.

The analytic third informs transference and countertransference, thoughts, feelings, and reveries of both therapist and patient. Although there are many manifestations of the analytic third in psychoanalysis, Ogden gives special attention to his own reverie during session, the seemingly mundane thoughts, feelings, and sensations we have during session which may be dismissed as irrelevant wanderings of the mind. For Ogden, in the analytic third, the content of reverie carries clinical significance. Consider, for example, a situation in which a therapist is in a minor car accident on their way to work. It may make sense and seem obvious that at times throughout that day while in session with various patients, the therapist’s mind may wander to and from the car accident. The therapist may ignore those thoughts as irrelevant distractions. In the analytic third, the therapist’s thoughts and experiences are co-created. What might be dismissed as irrelevant, when examined in detail, reveal an intersubjective influence. With one patient, the therapist may start to experience somatic discomfort and become anxious that perhaps they have neck or back soreness from the accident. With another patient, the therapist may worry about the hassle of contacting their insurance company and worry if their premium may increase. With another patient, the focus may be on the restoration of the vehicle and worry that the vehicle may never be the same. When therapists dismiss reverie as irrelevant, it may be because they think of the thought as a static entity. “Of course I am thinking about my car accident, that’s a significant and unusual event that just occurred today.” The “car accident” however is simply the manifest topic of the thought. The details of the reverie and manner in which the thoughts emerge, along with accompanying affect and somatic experience, are intersubjectively informed. When we are in contact with another, our own subjectivity is shaped and altered. Each different manifestation of the same theme, co-created with the patient, contain relevance to the patient’s psyche. We do not, however, (typically) speak about our reverie any more than we reveal our countertransference. Rather, we speak from our reverie and countertransference. The task of the therapist is to consider the thoughts in conjunction with and as they would any other clinical material, including the patient’s manifest and latent content, transference and countertransference, process, and all other content.

Truth, and what is true, is not something that therapists create for the patient. Ogden (2003) says:

“As a starting point for thinking about what we mean when we say an idea is true, let us return to the idea that there are things that are true about the universe (including the emotional life of human beings) that pre-exist and are independent of the thinking of any individual thinker. In other words, thinkers do not create the truth, they describe it. Thinkers from this perspective are not inventors, they are participant observers and scribes.” (p. 596; emphasis added)

Therapists do not create truths for patients through interpretation, diagnosis, or any other method. We may be able to understand patients on a level that allows us to say something about what is true, but in doing so we are only observing something that exists with or without us. It is not uncommon for a patient to express to me, after I have said something to them about how I imagine their experience, some shock or awe that I was able to say something to them which felt true, (and often uncomfortable). Of course, I am not a mystic. I could not have said to them what I did without them having conveyed that content in some form or another. Through the conditions of the analytic frame and treatment, we remain attuned to our experiences, the experiences of the patient, and the mutually informed and re-enforced co-created analytic third to attempt to identify what appears to be true.

The sense of “aliveness” and “deadness” in the transference and countertransference is a major indicator of what is true between patient and therapist (Ogden, 1995). When we can speak something true to the patient, when we are able to uncover something that feels open and expansive, it is experienced, by both patient and therapist, as alive. Deadness is often found in moments which are rote, manufactured, cliché, and formulaic, and therefore, disengaged. Aliveness is created through attempts to identify with a patient something which appears to be true, and to communicate it to the patient in a way that they can utilize, in a fresh way. The therapist is not, however, “inserting himself - his cleverness, his agility of the mind, his capacity for empathy, his unerring choice of le mot juste - between the patient and the interpretation” (Ogden, 2003, p. 598). To speak to what is true is to offer something to the patient for their use, unobtrusively. We foreclose such opportunities if we crowd the analytic space with our own needs and desires, because we want to feel clever or important, or because we are anxious and act out of that anxiety. Ogden (2003) says:

“We offer interpretations not for the purpose of changing the patient (which would be to attempt to create the patient in our own image), but to offer the patient something that has some truth to it, which the patient may find useful in doing conscious, preconscious and unconscious psychological work. Accompanying any psychological growth achieved in this way, we find not the signature of the analyst (i.e., his presence), nor his absence (which marks his presence in his absence), but traces of him as someone who was present and has become absent, leaving traces. The most important traces the analyst leaves are not the patient’s identifications with him as a person, but traces of the experience of making psychological use of what the analyst has said and done and been.” (p. 598)

One can easily draw a parallel to parenting. As parents, we strive to allow our children to grow to become their own individuals. We have helped them come into being through our holding and containing and other parental forces, but once they have grown the traces of the parent are present only in their absence. I believe that quality clinical supervision is very similar. 

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Part 2 of this essay will be published on Dec 17, 2023 and Part 3 on Dec 18, 2023.

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References

• Ogden, T.H. (1979). On projective identification. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 60, 357-373.

• Ogden, T.H. (1988). On the dialectical structure of experience – Some clinical and theoretical implications. Contemporary Psychoanalysis, 24, 17-45.

• Ogden, T. H. (1992). The Primitive Edge of Experience. Jason Aronson, Inc.

• Ogden, T. H. (1994) The Analytic Third: Working with Intersubjective Clinical Facts. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 75, 3-19.

• Ogden, T.H. (1995). Analysing forms of aliveness and deadness of the transference-countertransference. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 76, 695-709.

• Ogden, T.H. (1997a). Reverie and Interpretation: Sensing something human. Routledge.

• Ogden, T. H. (1997b). Reverie and Interpretation. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 66, 567-595.

• Ogden, T. H. (2003) What's true and whose idea was it? International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 84, 593-606.

• Ogden, T. H. (2004a). This art of psychoanalysis: Dreaming undreamt dreams and interrupted cries. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 85, 857-877.

• Ogden, T. H. (2005b). What I Would Not Part With. Fort Da, 11, 8-17.

• Ogden, T.H. (2006). On teaching psychoanalysis. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 87, 1069-1085.

• Ogden, T. H. (2009). Rediscovering Psychoanalysis. Psychoanalytic Perspectives 6:22-31

• Ogden, T.H. (2011). Reading Susan Isaacs: Toward a radically revised theory of thinking. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 92, 925-942.

• Ogden, T. H. (2015). Intuiting the Truth of What's Happening: On Bion's “Notes on Memory and Desire”. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 84, 285-306.

• Ogden, T.H. (2016). On language and truth in psychoanalysis. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 85, 411-426.

• Ogden, T.H. (2017). Dreaming the analytic session: A clinical essay. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 86, 1-20.

• Ogden, T. H. (2019). Ontological Psychoanalysis or “What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?”. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 88, 661-684.

• Winnicott, D.W.W. (1960). The theory of the parent-infant relationship. The International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 41, 585-595.

1. His contributions to analytic thought are vast, including explorations of psychosis; projective identification; object relations theory; the autistic-contiguous, paranoid-schizoid, and depressive positions of psychological experience; intersubjectivity and the analytic third; interpretive action; reverie and interpretation; holding and containing; the initial analytic meeting; teaching and supervising psychoanalysis; what is true in psychoanalysis; a new reading on the history of object relations; articles on reading Bion, Winnicott, Searles, Fairbairn, Loewald, Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, and Jorge Luis Borges.

2. Which comes from a poem by Robert Frost