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386 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1985
It is all too easy to equate not-knowing with ignorance. This can lead therapists to seek refuge in an illusion that they understand. But if they can bear the strain of not-knowing, they can learn that their competence as therapists includes a capacity to tolerate feeling ignorant or incompetent, and a willingness to wait (and to carry on waiting) until something genuinely relevant and meaningful begins to emerge. Only in this way is it possible to avoid the risk of imposing upon the patient the self-deception of premature understanding, which achieves nothing except to defend the therapist from the discomfort of knowing that he does not know.
By listening too readily to accepted theories, and to what they lead the practitioner to expect, it is easy to become deaf to the unexpected. When a therapist thinks that he can see signs of what is familiar to him, he can become blind to what is different and strange.
In summary, therapists have to be able to interpret as well as contain. Passive containment is not enough, as it feeds a phantasy of the therapist being made unable to continue functioning as therapist. Interpretation alone is not enough, particularly if it can be experienced as the therapist maintaining a protective distance from what the patient is needing to communicate. Psychotherapeutic technique has to be able to bring together these two functions, in such a way that the patient can experience a real feeling-contact with the therapist and yet find that the therapist is able to continue functioning.
If theory is to remain alive, rather than being repeatedly demonstrated in relation to each patient, there has to be adequate room for the patient to play with what is around in the session. It is important, therefore, that the therapist does not dominate the analytic work or monopolize insight in the therapy.
If too much certainty is employed by a therapist, this offers a patient what appears to be a short-cut to ‘knowing’. The dangers here are that insight is intellectualized, that understanding rests on a false basis, and that the therapist appears more all-knowing than anyone really can be. There are no short-cuts to pyschoanalytic experience. There is no other path to it than patience, the therapist holding onto the caution of still not-knowing – alongside the dawning sense of beginning to understand.
If only we can wait, the patient arrives at understanding creatively and with immense joy, and I now enjoy this joy more than I used to enjoy the sense of having been clever. I think I interpret mainly to let the patient know the limits of my understanding. The principle is that it is the patient and only the patient who has the answers.
(Winnicott 1971: 86–7)