A Rebel Psychiatrist Calls Out to His Profession
by Claudie Dreifus, New York Times, August 27, 2002
When Dr. J. Allan Hobson, 69, a Harvard psychiatrist and dream researcher, arrived for an interview, he had a notebook
filled with his writings, photographs of his extended family and
renderings of his summer house in Italy.
"This will help introduce me," Dr. Hobson said.
"I believe you need to get to know about me quickly," he
added, demonstrating an easy informality and perhaps belying the
stereotypes about uptight psychiatrists.
But then, Dr. Hobson, director of the Laboratory of
Neurophysiology at the Massachusetts Mental Health Center, is known as a
convention-defying psychiatry rebel.
His books include "The Dreaming Brain," "The Dreaming
Drugstore" and "Dreaming as Delirium." His latest work, "Out of Its Mind:
Psychiatry in Crisis: A Call for Reform," written with Jonathan A.
Leonard, (Perseus, $17) and just published in paperback, is an
exhortation to reorganize the profession he has practiced more than 40
years.
Q. In a nutshell, why has psychiatry gone "out of its
mind"?
A. Because it's lost its way. In 1960, when I first went
into it, the specialty felt very coherent. But psychiatry,
at the time, was being held together by psychoanalysis.
Over the years, psychoanalysis became "the god that
failed." At the same time that many psychiatrists
became
disillusioned with psychoanalysis, they failed to pick up on its
humanistic implications, the idea that
people, on a one-to-one basis,
could help each other. Finally, there's been the unwitting success of
medication, which enabled psychiatrists to empty the mental hospitals
without really caring for patients.
Q. Has psychiatry "lost its way" partly because of the
economics of mental health financing?
A. Oh, absolutely. The states no longer take responsibility
for the mentally ill. There's a constant call for
privatizing the care of these people, which is impossible.
No one will ever be able to make any money off of
this kind of business. It's silly. These people have severe
handicaps. Even if they're walking around the
streets on Thorazine or whatever, they're still very impaired people.
When I began my training, I couldn't have anticipated the
emptying of the mental hospitals and seeing
people on the streets. But
these are the most disenfranchised of the disenfranchised, and almost
no one speaks up for their interests. My own institution,
Massachusetts Mental Health Center, which is located on a
very prime piece
of medical real estate, is constantly threatened with closure.
Q. Why did psychoanalysis become "the god that failed"?
A. I think people became disillusioned with psychoanalysis,
because it was, ultimately, a strange way of
caring for people. There was this tendency in the psychoanalytic world
to imply that everything was psychodynamic.
In my own training, I saw things that seemed cruel and that
I believe, partly, led to the downfall of
psychoanalysis.
Very strange, for instance, was this business of distancing
oneself from patients in order to obtain what was thought of as a crucial objectivity. Even stranger was the idea of blaming mothers
for what happened to their kids. Or worse, blaming the patients
themselves.
This notion that everything was psychodynamic, I think, led
to poor patient care. During my years of training,
I was told, for
instance, to control psychosis with psychoanalysis, which couldn't
work.
I was told that I shouldn't give anyone medication, because
it would muck up transference. I mean, I was
dealing with catatonic schizophrenia people who were really, really crazy.
Then came the revolution of psychopharmacology, and
suddenly the pendulum swung the other way.
Psychotherapy was down the drain, including the more useful parts, like
humanistic psychology and an understanding of the unconscious.
At the same time the field was declining, there have been
tremendous breakthroughs in the brain sciences. I
want to say to
medical educators, "We've finally got what Freud always wanted, the
chance to make a psychology based on brain science."
Q. How would you reorganize medical training so that you'd
attract better and more students to your
speciality?
A. I'd tell
them that they have a chance to work on one of the last great medical
frontiers, which psychiatry could be. This is a field where they'll
have license to talk about psychology and physiology and
philosophy, all together. Where else can you do that?
I'd make the courses exciting. There was a professor named
Fred Barnes at Brown University who's always
said it is astonishing the
way psychiatrists had managed to mess up the field and make it
unexciting. In his psychiatry courses, he had actors come in and act out
these little dramas for medical students. The students
got hooked, emotionally, by what they saw. The rest was easy.
Q. Let's return to the clinical part of your work.
Considering the state of mental health care, if you were an
ordinary citizen with run-of-the-mill health insurance and
a teenager showing schizophrenic symptoms,
where would you go for help?
A. I would be at a loss. It's devastating. The families
watch their kids founder because, in most cases,
there's no place for them to go.
I've got a brain-damaged son. He's 40 now, and we've
managed well. Part of the reason is that we found
good
outside help. Ian lives in a group home. He supports himself completely.
And he's a happy man. He comes to see my younger children, 6-year-old
twins, and he's very involved with them.
Of course, I would have liked a different scenario for Ian,
but I feel ennobled by this boy. Every time I see
him, I feel better.
And this is a feeling that I believe should be engendered in
psychiatrists as they care for their patients.
I still have patients that I saw in the beginning of my
career. With the seriously ill patients, on
the whole, they don't stop
being mentally ill, but they can do well. They can do better
because a doctor cares for them. And you can be clever with the
medications, restrained about their use. Probably the most
important
thing you can do is to give them a sense of human place with you.
Q. The recent film "A Beautiful Mind" has brought issues of
mental illness into the public consciousness. As a
therapist, have you found it a useful tool?
A. I suspect a lot of people have taken to this movie
because it appears in some ways to simplify, even
romanticize, mental illness. I know, for instance, someone
whose own personal history is very troubled.
She's just rhapsodic about it. She thinks of herself as miraculously
cured, and she's not.
Most people don't like the reality of mental illness. You
can't just say, as some do, that being straightforward
with patients
will get them well. They don't get well easily, and sometimes they
don't at all. What psychiatrists and the patients' families need to
do is be straightforward, not abandon the person, not get
impatient,
not feel like we're a failure if we don't cure them. We're dealing
with chronic long-term disability,
and nobody likes it. You don't want
to have it. And you don't want a family member to have it.
But it happens.
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