A Freud contretemps in the Guardian

August 21, 2017 • 12:30 pm

The other day I gave a positive take on Fred Crews’s new book, Freud: The Making of an Illusion, which pretty much demolishes—if it weren’t already wrecked—the image of Freud as a relentless truth seeker who remade our view of humanity. Crews has been examining Freud and his “science” for years, and this is his latest and last attempt to show that the man was a fraud: a greedy, idea-stealing, ambitious confector of bad ideas.

What really irks me about Freud is the profoundly pseudoscientific nature of his “discoveries”, which were not based on on consistent research that was tested, criticized, and then affirmed by others, but comprised mere anecdotes from his case studies, forced into the Procrustean bed of  “science”. Ideas such as repression and the Oedipus and Elektra complexes were unsubstantiated fantasies, yet for years were integral parts of psychoanalytic therapy. How many people paid lots of money for no help at all, or were even damaged by this junk?

Even the Guardian, in a new published dialogue between Crews and Susie Orbach, a British writer and psychoanalytical psychotherapist (h/t reader Diki), admits this at the outset:

Since Freud’s death in 1939, however, a growing number of dissenting voices have questioned his legacy and distanced themselves from his ideas. Now Freud is viewed less as a great medical scientist than as a powerful storyteller of the human mind whose texts, though lacking in empirical evidence, should be celebrated for their literary value.

Well, “powerful storytelling” is just that: storytelling. It’s not science, just as the “powerful storytelling” of the Bible is neither science nor fact.  And really, should we “celebrate” stories that were used in attempted cures of the mentally disturbed, but had no effect—or detrimental ones?

The email give-and-take between Crews and Orbach is enlightening, with Crews relentlessly hurling at Orhbach a single repeated question: what was true about Freud’s theories? Orbach evades, saying that, well, Freud did initiate the “talking cure”, regardless of the efficacy of his methods. (Crews points out that “a better candidate for empathic talk therapy would be the Swiss Paul Dubois”.)

And Freud wasn’t very “empathic”. He hectored and was mean to his patients, often didn’t listen to them or even fell asleep when they were speaking, and instead of really trying to understand them, shoehorned their free-associations into his own fallacious ideas, regarding patients as cash cows and springboards to his own renown.

Here’s a sampling of the dialogue:

Orbach:  You [Crews] claim you left Freud 30 years ago but your continued obsession with the man, with his work, with proving that Freud was contradictory, goes to show the continuing significance, not of Freud the man per se, but of his ideas and impact on a wider, cultural level. His work has had an impact of such magnitude that it’s not possible for us to think about what it means to be human, what motivates us, what we yearn for, without those very questions being Freudian.

Freud’s conceptions of the human mind and its complexity, whether exactly accurate, are not at issue here.

But Crews’s examination and demolishing of Freud doesn’t show that Freud’s ideas were right, only that they were influential and need reexamination. Psychoanalysts and cultural studies professors, infatuated with Freud, are loath to give him up, even though, as a scientist, he was a miserable failure. Crews bores in:

If, as you say, psychoanalytic theory has functioned as a powerfully shaping “explanatory tool”, surely it matters whether Freud’s explanations ever made empirical sense. If they didn’t, the likelihood is considerable that he raised false hopes, unfairly distributed shame and blame, retarded fruitful research and education, and caused patients’ time and money to be needlessly squandered. Indeed, all of those effects have been amply documented.

In your writings, you assert that Freud’s emphasis on the Oedipus complex was androcentric and wrong; that he misrepresented female sexual satisfaction and appears to have disapproved of it; that envy of the penis, if it exists at all, is not a key determinant of low self-esteem among women; and that his standard of normality was dictated by patriarchal bias, thus fostering “the control and subjugation of women”.

This list, which could be readily expanded, constitutes an indictment not only of harmful conclusions but also of the arbitrary, cavalier method by which they were reached. Yet elsewhere in your texts, you refer to Freud’s “discovery of the unconscious” and to his “discovery of an infantile and childhood sexuality”. Were those alleged breakthroughs achieved in a more objective manner than the “discovery” of penis envy? What are the grounds on which any of Freud’s claims deserve to be credited?

Orbach’s response, that she and Crews are on “different planets”, is pretty much on the mark, for she sees Freud as some kind of unspecified humanist even if lacking empirical achievement, and indeed, somehow finds merit in Freud being part of the great tradition of science that becomes passé:

Orbach: Knowledge is provisional. It is not static, and the kinds of knowledge of the consulting room exquisitely express this. This is not to say we don’t know anything. Therapists build up considerable knowledge about the way the human mind deals with the indigestible. People don’t come because they are happy, they come because their life has stalled. They perceive themselves to have got stuck, they feel emotionally constipated. They suffer with intrusive self-critical thoughts. Addressing these things is the meat and potatoes of our work. It is out of this engagement that our understandings emerge. Subjectivity, particularly in the process of self-reflection and potential change, is not empirical per se. It is a lived experience, and analysis provides a frame for the individual to investigate their modes of being, feeling and thinking. Psychoanalysis is the study of human subjectivity. It is a clinical practice. It theorises the vicissitudes of human attachment, of the psychological development of mind and body that occur within a relational, cultural field.

But of course that says nothing about Freud, and Crews reminds her “But weren’t we talking about Sigmund Freud?” He then zeroes in on empiricism again:

Crews: I find it striking that Freud vanished from your discourse as soon as I asked you to say why we ought to believe any of his propositions. That issue is crucial to an assessment of his legacy. His unsupported claims – for example, that repressed incidents from the first years of life can be reliably unearthed; that, thanks to phylogenetic programming, all toddlers wish to kill their same-sex parent and copulate with the other one; that women are biologically inferior, childlike, devious and masochistic – have yielded many noxious consequences.

One such consequence has been an ongoing disregard, by psychoanalysts and their academic allies, of the principle that hypotheses ought to be held accountable to a preponderance of evidence. Freud’s psychological writings contain not a single item of raw data. We meet only “psychoanalytic findings”, suave stories, evasions and heroic posturing. That charade has seduced many an unwary professor, including yours truly 50 years ago. Even today, regrettably, the Freudian vogue in its least rational (Lacanian) form remains entrenched in the humanities.

Freud, though not on hand to defend himself, has a lot to answer for. What can you enter on the other side of the ledger?

Orbach has nothing to enter except a few mutterings about Freud’s contribution to our understanding of bisexuality, which turns out not to be the concept Orbach actually uses, and even one that wasn’t Freud’s own idea, but was stolen from his friend Wilhelm Fliess.

I found this dialogue illuminating, for it shows the conflict over Freud between a hard-nosed empiricist and (to my mind) a soft-brained psychoanalyst.  By now I’ve read a fair amount by and about Freud, and I have to say that I can’t see a substantial “contribution”. It’s time to pass the man by and try to clean up the mess he left in cultural studies and psychotherapy.

Not a joke: Atlantic article notes that eclipse path moves over many white areas, uses path of totality to indict America for racism

August 21, 2017 • 10:00 am

UPDATE: There are now over 500 comments on Ristroph’s piece, virtually all of them critical, and some quite funny. I actually feel sorry for the poor woman, but maybe she doesn’t read comments. Here are a few I selected quickly.

_____________________

The present ideological climate in America is such that almost anything can serve as a reason to hammer on America’s racist past and the racism that our country still harbors. That’s fine when we’re discussing Confederate statues or white supremacy, but today’s eclipse? Granted, at least Atlantic author Alice Ristroph, a white professor at Brooklyn Law School, didn’t say that the laws of physics were racist, moving the shadow of today’s eclipse over mostly white areas of the U.S., but she uses that fact to emphasize the whiteness of the areas traversed by the shadow, and to rehash things that we already know. Her lesson (see below) is that the eclipse itself gives poignant reminders of America’s racism.

Click on the screenshot to see the article:

The piece is so contrived, so ridiculous, that at first I thought it was a joke.  But it wasn’t. As a writer friend of mind noted:

I am just as shocked, dismayed, and wearied by the idiocy of this piece as you.  It seems like some sort of sick, virtue-signaling satire, but it’s not.  The author is a law professor!  She’s supposed to teach her students how to think straight!

First, here the New York Times‘s map of the full and 75% totality shadow. As you see, the shadow passes over much of the South.

Now I don’t want to enact the emotional labor to provide a full dissection of this piece, but it pretty much dissects itself when quoted. Yes, I think racism is evil, but I’m weary of people using things like eclipses to point out once again how evil we white people are and how complicit in racial injustice. A straight article about the topic with a genuine hook would have been better, but Ristroph more or less has to force the astronomical facts to fit her ideology. I’ll give some quotes (indented) to show how the article indicts itself:

It has been dubbed the Great American Eclipse, and along most of its path, there live almost no black people.

Presumably [JAC: ??], this is not explained by the implicit bias of the solar system. It is a matter of population density, and more specifically geographic variations in population density by race, for which the sun and the moon cannot be held responsible. Still, an eclipse chaser is always tempted to believe that the skies are relaying a message. At a moment of deep disagreement about the nation’s best path forward, here comes a giant round shadow, drawing a line either to cut the country in two or to unite it as one.

At this point my kishkes began tying themselves in knots. But wait! There’s more! Here’s where she comes very close to blaming the eclipse for giving white people the best view of totality:

Oregon, where this begins, is almost entirely white. The 10 percent or so of state residents who do not identify as white are predominantly Latino, American Indian, Alaskan, or Asian. There are very few black Oregonians, and this is not an accident. The land that is now Oregon was not, of course, always inhabited by white people, but as a U.S. territory and then a state, Oregon sought to get and stay white. Among several formal efforts at racial exclusion was a provision in the original state constitution of 1857 that prohibited any “free Negro or Mulatto” from entering and residing in the state.

But wait! There’s still more:

From Oregon, the Great American Eclipse will travel through Idaho and Wyoming. (It will catch a tiny unpopulated piece of Montana, too.) Percentage-wise, Idaho and Wyoming are even whiter than Oregon. And as in Oregon, but even more so, the few non-white residents of Idaho and Wyoming are not black—they are mostly Latino, American Indian, and Alaskan.

She shoehorns in a lot of stuff taken from history books, but, sadly, the tedious piece goes on as the eclipse moves East:

After Wyoming, the eclipse will go through Nebraska, Kansas, and Missouri. This is America’s heartland, and also, literally, the land of compromise. When Missouri sought statehood in 1819, the United States consisted of 22 states, equally divided between those that permitted slavery and those that did not. Missouri’s request to enter as a slave-holding state threatened to upset the balance, but a kind of unity was preserved with the Missouri Compromise. The deal allowed Missouri its slaves but drew a line across the nation, east-west to the Pacific Ocean, and mandated that slavery would be illegal in all other territories north of the line. Nebraska and Kansas, bordering Missouri to the west and lying just north of the compromise line, were thus to remain slavery-free. But the Missouri Compromise was repealed by the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, which allowed the (white) people of those territories to decide for themselves whether to have slavery.

Had enough? But wait—there’s still more! With all that you get this free juicer disquisition on how the path of totality unfairly goes through white areas:

The total eclipse will be visible from Lincoln, Nebraska, the state’s capital, which reports a black population of 3.8 percent. The city of Omaha has a greater black population, about 14 percent. It is home to many of the refugees from Africa and elsewhere that Nebraska has welcomed in recent years, many of whom now work in slaughterhouses and meatpacking plants. But Omaha is about 50 miles northeast of the path of totality.

More?

From Kansas, the eclipse goes to Missouri, still mostly bypassing black people, though now much more improbably. About a third of Kansas City, Missouri, is black, but most of the city lies just south of the path of totality. To get the full show, eclipse chasers should go north to St. Joseph, almost 90 percent white and about 6 percent black, the place where Jesse James died and where Marshall Mathers, a.k.a. Eminem, was born.

. . . Moving east, the eclipse will pass part of St. Louis, whose overall population is nearly half black. But the black residents are concentrated in the northern half of the metropolitan area, and the total eclipse crosses only the southern half. Eight miles north of the path of totality is Ferguson, where Officer Darren Wilson shot Michael Brown three summers ago.

When the eclipse finally hits the South, Ristroph sees its path as highlighting racism all the more:

Former slave-holding states are still the home to most of America’s black population. In Kentucky, Tennessee, and eventually South Carolina, the eclipse will finally pass over black Americans. Even here, though, the path of totality seems to mark the legacy of slavery and the persistence of segregation more than any form of inclusion.

The problem here is Ristroph’s confirmation bias: there is no place in America where the path of total could pass where she couldn’t draw a lesson about racism. If that’s the case, then what’s the point of her article? It’s just a poorly conceived conceit for her to flaunt her virtue by indicting the rest of us.  And so, mercifully close to the piece’s end, we get this:

But after Tennessee, the shadow regains some speed and travels over white people only again for a while. It catches the northeast corner of Georgia and the western tip of North Carolina. Though both these states have substantial black populations, both also include overwhelmingly white rural areas, and it is those areas that lie in the path of totality. Rabun County, 1 percent black at the 2010 census, is the best place in Georgia to see the eclipse. Also in the path of totality are Habersham (3.4 percent black), Union (0.5 percent), and White (1.7 percent) counties.

. . . After Georgia, the eclipse will pass over a small piece of western North Carolina. The black population of these barely populated counties hovers around 1 percent, falling as low as 0.2 percent in Graham. The path of totality will narrowly miss Tryon, the birthplace of Nina Simone. In 1963, after learning of a bombing of a black church that killed four girls, Simone shut herself in a room and wrote “Mississippi Goddam” in less than an hour.

Had enough? I’ll spare you all but the end of the piece.

There are two possible conclusions: either God (or physical law) is racist, or that Ristroph is straining hernia-hard to use her metaphor. The latter is clearly the case, but in Ristroph’s last paragraph she lapses into full-on purple prose, working herself into a lather of righteousness and perhaps angling for a New Yorker article—but the New Yorker has far better writing than this:

And then the shadow goes to sea, still indifferent to the Earth below, indifferent to the little creatures here, indifferent to these people indifferent to their own histories. Or perhaps we are not indifferent, but just no more capable than butterflies and bees of seeing the long path and of deciding to change it. The Great American Eclipse illuminates, or darkens, a land still segregated, a land still in search of equality, a land of people still trying to dominate each other. When the lovely glow of a backlight fades, history is relentless, just one damn fact after another, one damning fact after another. America is a nation with debts that no honest man can pay. It is too much to ask that these debts simply be forgiven. But perhaps the strange path of the eclipse suggests a need for reorganization. We have figured out, more or less, how to count every person. [She’s referring to the census.] We have not yet found a political system in which every person counts equally.

I’m sure Dr. Ristroph’s feelings are sincere and admirable, but she has to find a better way to work against bigotry than use the eclipse as a metaphor. It’s labored to the point of being amusing which sort of undercuts her purpose. And I’m mystified that a respectable publication like the Atlantic would publish something like this. I guess it shows that in modern journalism, there’s no vehicle too bizarre to convey your anger about injustice.

Honey’s back again!

August 21, 2017 • 8:45 am

I fully anticipated that when I went to the pond this morning, laden with corn and mealworms, I would be duckless—flat out of duck. I was even going to write a post called “The bill is gone.” But Honey came back; I suspect she’s ducking with me and testing out her wings. Lord knows where she flies to. (No he doesn’t, as there’s no such Ground of Being.) At any rate, she was there this morning, I had my better camera, and I got photos of her, including gobbling the mealworms.

Daisy, her erstwhile companion, appears to be gone for good.

I’m feeding her up now; I’ll be gone in two weeks and I doubt I’ll see her after that.  Today’s photos; in the first, her loon-like red eye is from a flash:

“Tasty Mealworms™” for breakfast:

 

 

Readers’ wildlife photos

August 21, 2017 • 8:00 am

Reader Charles Spotts sent us some nice hummingbird photos; his notes are indented:

I have several hummingbird photos here that are from April and May of this year.  I keep thinking that I’ll get some better ones this summer, but I don’t think that’s going to happen now; the weather has been uncooperative to say the least.  By my count we’ve already had fifty 100+ degree days, which is unusual for this zip code.  Maybe some of the pics will meet the standards for Readers Wildlife Photos 🙂  The guy with the bright orange head staring at the camera is a Rufous (Selasphorus rufus)  and the others are Anna’s (Calypte anna).

The Rufous first:

And the Anna’s:

Tongue out!

Reader Pyers sent a dragonfly photo and a question; if you’re a card-carrying insectophile, try to answer it:

Out in the Malvern Hills (just round the corner from where Annie Darwin is buried), Worcestershire, England, I saw this critter, a Southern hawker dragonfly, Aeshna cyaneaI had only my mobile so could only grab a snatched shot. 

He adds a question deriving the photo below:

A poser for you and your readers…
If you enlarge the photo of the dragonfly and look at the right wings you will see that amongst the beautiful tracery of the wing are two black areas, one on each wing, at the front tip. (They are present on the left wings but they are a bit blurred). Any idea what the significance of these areas are? Evolutionary significance? I have enlarged the area in the attached. I have also looked at other photos of the same species and they are present as well.
My own guess, if the spot is present on both males and females, is species recognition.

Eclipse today

August 21, 2017 • 7:00 am

I asked reader Rick, who a while back had sent me links to eclipse viewing, to remind me yesterday so I could post them today. So, if you want to watch it either live or livestreamed, here’s where to go (links are all from Rick):

NASA has coverage: https://eclipse2017.nasa.gov/eclipse-live-stream

Space.com has a page of info on live streams that will be available: https://www.space.com/37736-total-solar-eclipse-2017-live-streams.html

Here’s a link( time and date)  that gives the exact time parameters for any zipcode: https://www.timeanddate.com/eclipse/in/@5132147

And, Fast Company provides an extensive compendium of link. Remember: DO NOT LOOK AT THE SUN WITHOUT SPECIAL GLASSES; the one exception is during the two minutes or so of complete totality—if you’re lucky enough to be in that path.

• NASA will have not one, but two live streams of the eclipseNASA TV, the space agency’s television service, will broadcast live footage compiled from terrestrial video feeds, “eclipse jets,” spacecraft, high-altitude balloons, specially modified telescopes, and from aboard the International Space Station (ISS). Stream the eclipse on your favorite platform, including YouTubePeriscopeTwitch, and Facebook Live.

The space organization will also broadcast a live stream from NASA EDGE, its unscripted live feed, and if lizard people emerge during the eclipse, you’re probably gonna want to be watching NASA’s unscripted feed.

• Twitter and the Weather Channel will live-stream the event. Coverage will include live shots from 10 locations in the eclipse’s “path of totality,” including Nashville, Casper, Wyoming; McMinnville, Oregon; and Hopkinsville, Kentucky, the point where totality is expected to stretch out the longest.

• Virtual Telescope Project will host a free online observing session with views of the total solar eclipse beginning at 1 p.m. EDT. Watch here.

• Time and Life VR will be producing a 360-degree VR livestream of the solar eclipse on Time‘s Facebook and YouTube pages, in partnership with Mesmerise Global.

The Ballooning Project will use its high-altitude balloons to stream videos of the eclipse. Watch here.

• Slooh, a space broadcaster, will cover the eclipse as it travels from sea to shining sea, broadcasting its view of the eclipse from a perch in Idaho, capping off a three-day long-eclipse fest. Watch here.

• Exploratorium, the San Francisco science museum, will have five live streams of the eclipse filmed in Madras, Oregon, and Casper, Wyoming. They’ll have Spanish- and English-narrated eclipse feeds and a special “sonification” of the eclipse by the Kronos Quartet. You can also watch on their app. Watch here.

• Science Channel will broadcast views from Madras, Oregon, in partnership with the Lowell Observatory, while retired astronaut Mike Massimino will host the proceedings from Charleston, South Carolina. Watch here.

• CNN and Volvo will provide a 360-degree view of the eclipse from various locations along the path of totality. The stream will also be viewable in virtual reality, in case reality is too much of a bummer. The livestream begins at 12:03 p.m. EDT. Watch here.

If you sleep through the entire thing, lay off the Ambien and tune in to NOVA’s Eclipse Over America,  which will premiere Monday night and recap the great eclipse.

 Here’s what totality will look like; this is from Australia in 2012:

Oh, and during the last eclipse I saw the birds went nuts, singing all over the place since they thought it was dawn. Pay attention to the animals you see during the eclipse, and add a comment if they do anything weird. If I’m lucky enough to have Honey come back (she has been gone for nearly two days), I’ll be watching it with her and observing her behavior.

Monday: Hili dialogue

August 21, 2017 • 6:30 am

Good morning; it’s Monday, August 21, and exactly one month before Fall comes. And it’s ECLIPSE DAY (see the next post for details), with about 90% totality in Chicago, beginning about noon. Had I known that Amtrak was running special one-day “eclipse” trains downstate to Carbondale, where it’s a total eclipse, I would have signed up, but the two trains sold out in 24 hours.  Today’s Google Doodle is a gif of that’s now called The Great American Eclipse (“Make the eclipse great again!”; Nobody has better eclipses than we do!”; “We’re gonna have an eclipse, and we’ll make the Sun pay for it!”, etc.):

It’s also the annual National Sweet Tea Day in the U.S., and that means heavily sweetened iced tea—the perfect accompaniment of heavy Southern food or barbecue. It’s sometimes called “the table wine of the South.”

On August 21, 1770, James Cook claimed the eastern part of Australia for Great Britain (how does one “claim a land”?), and named it New South Wales. On this day in 1831, Nat Turner‘s slave rebellion took place in Virginia as both free blacks and slaves marched for the emancipation of slaves. They were brutally suppressed, Turner was hanged, and new laws were passed in the South, prohibiting among other things any education for slaves and free blacks.  In 1888 William Seward Burroughs patented the first successful adding machine in America; his grandson, writer William S. Burroughs, acquired a lot of his dosh from his grandfather’s machine.  On this day in 1957, the Soviet Union successfully tested the first intercontinental ballistic missile, the R-7 Semyorka. On August 21, 1959, President Eisenhower, in an executive order, made Hawaii America’s 50th state and, two years later, Motown Records released its first #1 hit. Can you guess what it is? (see here).

Notables born on this day include Count Basie (1904), Wilt Chamberlain (1936), Peter Weir (1944), Kim Catrall (1956), and the french cartoonist Charb (1967), who worked for Charlie Hebdo and was killed in the terrorist attack on the magazine in 2015.

I loved the old Basie big band, and the first ten minutes or so of this vintage video show the group in action. (Bonus: Duke Ellington’s band follows with a bit of “Take the A Train” and the great song “Cottontail”, with Paul Gonsalves substituting on sax for the man who made that solo famous, Ben Webster):

Those who died on this day include Leon Trotsky (1940), George Jackson (1971), Buford Pusser (1971; I love that name!), and my colleague in physics Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar (1995). Wikipedia also lists Jerry Lewis as dying on this day, but it was yesterday, August 20. Someone please correct that!

Meanwhile in Dobrzyn, Hili makes an astute observation:

Hili: Are you aware how much love of cats is on these shelves?
A: I don’t understand.
Hili: Almost all the authors of these books loved cats.
In Polish:
Hili: Czy jesteś świadomy ile jest miłości do kotów na tych półkach?
Ja: Nie rozumiem.
Hili: Prawie wszyscy autorzy tych książek kochali koty.
Her claim is true, and here’s why (h/t: Taskin):

Here’s a lovely tweet found by reader Charleen: it’s a video of two lions being reunited after two years with the woman who raised them. And yes, I watched it several times.

https://twitter.com/EarnKnowledge/status/899063982614392832

Also from Charleen:

https://twitter.com/Bajandon_7/status/878235403265769472

Finally, here’s one I swiped from Heather Hastie, who now posts a well-chosen selection of “daily tweets.” I wasn’t aware that owls bathed, much less with such alacrity:

https://twitter.com/planetepics/status/892879701324292096

En passant, we have fewer than 150 subscribers to go till we hit the Magic Goal. Is it possible?