Tag: drive

Affect displacement

 

In classical Freudian analysis, affect displacement (Affektverschiebung) occurs when the energy with which a particular drive or desire is endowed with a view to its realization, is displaced to an alternative object (an alternative purposive schema) under the action of the censoring activity of the superego.

Freud mainly considers sexual or aggressive drives and their unconscious repression, which results in observed behavior which draws on the energy associated with the taboo object for purposes which sedate or partially realize the drive while avoiding the taboo content. For example, the unconscious desire to kill the father may be expressed in sadistic behavior towards others in the environment where such behavior is more tolerated by social norms. Nevertheless, the Freudian schema would seem to operate wherever, and for whatever reason, drive gratification is unavailable, including in cases where the rationale for repression is conscious or, at least, represented to the consciousness in some form. This need not cover only supposed social taboos, but also complex ethical nexuses of the subject which draw energy from a variety of sources, some being drive repression but others including compassion, collaborative behavior or perceived self-interest. In other words, I may decline to do things based on grounds which I can rationalize to myself as being ethical, and that rationalization may indeed not be entirely without merit: on occasion it may even be fully merited; it is still the case that drives will seek gratification and that the affect will be displaced onto a cognitive schema which is available to the mind and in some way superficially resembles the censored course of action. When a given situation arises repeatedly, habitual pathways are formed in the mind which automatically direct the energy towards the displacement object. In clinically observed contexts this may lead to what is qualified as obsessive-compulsive behavior but in reality such behavior is a matter of degree and characterizes all of us.

The Freudian schema is simple to understand and, together with its extensions as I have suggested, seems to shed light on much observed behavior. Nevertheless, from my perspective there is also something deeply unsatisfying about it, for it offers no account of the origin of drives or of their legitimate role in our lives, encouraging us to treat psychic material as suspect and failing to recognize that the good life is unlivable on the basis of reason alone. Freud seems to view most instinctive activity as at best catastrophically naïve and at worst as decidedly sinister. This is why repression is not only justified from the standpoint of the reality principle, but often, he would seem to suggest, wise and desirable. Although he is often credited with killing the philosophical concept of the self, it seems to me that he does no more than displace the Cartesian body/mind dichotomy into the mind itself; descriptively, primary processes overdetermine behavior, yet normatively he would rather they did not. All he seeks to do is moderate the worst excesses of a repression which remains imperative and inevitable.

This Hobbesian account of drive formation needs, it seems to me, to be unmasked and to be challenged, since it matches in no particular the knowledge of the human psyche we have from anthropology or experimental psychology, never mind any spiritual insights we may have into the question. In short, if drives are to be mistrusted then their repression is likely to be advantageous in many instances. What we see, however, is that we frequently repress drives which should be trusted (or which at least should be interpreted and prompt some kind of action) simply because of an irrational or at least cowardly fear of their consequences. That we do so is an obvious consequence of (and at the same time the generative precondition for) what Foucault called the social construction of subjectivity.

In repressing drives, often we lose touch with our inner voice. When what we do is habitually conditioned to the prompting we receive, we dissipate the energy which sought to guide our steps and render ourselves insensitive to basic callings of our heart. In this way, we frustrate not only desires which we are perhaps well advised to reconsider; we frustrate our whole life’s purpose. We may, in fact, be well aware that what we are doing is only a poor substitute for what we really want; we do it regardless and we are continually dissatisfied with ourselves, sometimes truly burdened with shame or self-hatred. When the prospect of drive fulfilment becomes more manifest and we continue to deny it to ourselves, this tension may become unbearable. These are moments of existential crisis and of decisions which will have ramifications for many lifetimes. It seems to me that, however scary it may be to move your life into alignment with your soul’s purpose, the alternative is, or should be, more scary still.

Smartphonitis

I just read this article on WebMD which discusses the endemic compulsive use of smartphones in modern society, its possible reasons, consequences, and how to deal with it. Here is a summary sentence: “the smartphone, more than any other gadget, steals from us the opportunity to maintain our attention, to engage in contemplation and reflection, or even to be alone with our thoughts.”

I believe this is true and it is a matter about which we should be concerned. Yet the question of why this compulsion arises is not satisfactorily answered in the article, though it gives a few clues. Therefore I would like to put forward an alternative explanation. Continue reading “Smartphonitis”

The Will to Power

I have recently been thinking about what Nietzsche referred to as the Will to Power.

Nietzsche’s concept expresses, glossed in modern terms, the intuition that there is, in our biological constitution, a source of self-becoming which is identifiably and subjectively moral and yet individual and innate.

Nietzsche was dissatisfied with Schopenhauer’s concept of the will to live and with the Darwinian concept of the survival of the fittest. For all that he challenged in German moral philosophy, he remained convinced that man had an innate, if often latent, moral drive and that this was biological in nature. Had Nietzsche lived later, he would surely have found Freud’s “pleasure principle” just as reductionist. The Will to Power itself is amoral in nature and its biological foundations are not really explored: morality is a second order effect that Nietzsche expects to emerge from affirming this basic drive rather than repressing it. What a world would look like in which people lived in accordance with the will to power is not Nietzsche’s concern, and at first sight the notion seems as compatible with altruism and benevolence as it does with despotism and misanthropy. On closer reflection though, the charge of misanthropy must be a misunderstanding, because the superman derives no benefit or pleasure from subjugation of others; he speaks “badly of man but not ill of him”. As for subjugation of nature, Nietzsche views it as an intrinsic folly.

So the question is, what is the biological basis of the will to power? It seems to me that Nietzsche misunderstood Darwin in imputing to him a necessary dependence on utilitarian notions. From at least a modern perspective, this seems not really to underlie Darwin’s discoveries. All that really would seem to matter is that I pass my genes on, and not that I am happy with my life.

Nietzsche posits that vitality is the root of man’s creativity and the best of which he is capable. As such, the will to power seems to rest, biologically speaking, upon the drive to procreate. It is this, seemingly so basic, drive, and which can undeniably also be experienced as entirely trivial, that at the same time is so inextricably linked to our most compelling experiences of dissolution and ecstasy. Whereas Freud thought that moral effort was needed to channel sexual energy into the achievements of civilization, Nietzsche is much more trusting in the natural propensity of this creative energy to overflow into the entirety of man’s social and inner experience: it does not need to be directed, it only needs to be unleashed.

The will to power and the drive to procreate or to experience dissolution are not, however, precisely the same thing. If this were so, the will to power would be everywhere; it is hard to imagine how societal forces would keep it in check. Descriptively however, few people seem to embark on the journey to which their vitality invites. For those people, and I count myself among them, allowing societal forces to prevail over ones inner sense is simply an impossibility; it is inherently immoral, however noble might be that to which one is exhorted.  The only moral being one possibly can be is the one that one is. Of course one exercises judgment, discernment, in practical action but this is really not very difficult because one is not at war with the outer order of things, one is simply awake to the opportunities to change it that may arise. All else is tension, and counter-reactions to it are assured. If morality arises from the natural state of man, moral crusades can never lead anywhere. All I need to do and all I can do is to take you, if you are ready, by the hand and lead you to places which can trigger your own awakening. Force is available to me, but it is useless. As I have written before, meditation is my only moral imperative.

But, you may protest, if I see injustices of which I am not the author, do I not have to act?

No. But at least I may. If I embrace the will to power, I am no longer powerless, no longer trapped in knee-jerk reactions to external events, reactions which are almost entirely determined by my own inner struggles. I am serene. I can act. My power is available to me and I have clarity as to the potential rewards of my action. And as such, I am finally a moral subject. Certainly, good deeds may contribute to mankind’s well-being, but they do so proportionately to the inner serenity of their authors.

Ultimately, it remains a mystery why most of mankind, like the animals from which we are descended, is in a state of more or less deep sleep. The will to power, in conscious form, seems to characterize only the few and at this stage of our social and perhaps biological evolution it is a pure leap of faith to imagine it as potentially characterizing the many. We are left with the mystery of consciousness, this quality which suffuses nature and yet is distinct from it, seemingly, in an evasive sense, superordinate to it; which erupts into human minds and human history more as a messenger from another realm than as an expected basis for our being. It is alien to us, yet our deepest nature; we long for it, but have mostly no idea where to look. Humanity as animal plus consciousness is an aspirational equation, even a self-delusion at times. Grounded in our biological nature, the will to power necessarily impels us not simply to recreate the conditions of a more natural life, although this is a precondition, but to be something which, so far and with rare exceptions, humanity has not been.