Having recorded our discussion on Buddhism but still feeling obligated here to plumb the depths of the web further for Freud-related material, I did a search for "Buddhist Psychotherapy" and came up with this site (part of "the complementary health information service at Metta.org.uk") that demonstrates that, as Wes said, all of your talking cures come out approximately the same (given an equally decent therapist) no matter what their theoretical basis.
Much like Alcoholics Anonymous begins with a requirement to accept your helplessness compared to a God from which you must beseech health, this kind of therapy begins by accepting the religion's view of the world:
The Buddhist framework begins with the central acceptance of the four noble truths. These represent the reality or bedrock of human experience (and indeed universal existence) and it is perhaps the acceptance and understanding of the nature and existence of suffering which can make a Buddhist based psychotherapy so much more than “simple” cognitive psychotherapy, by going beyond pure cognitive skills and assessments which tend to go through the categorisation of client states and their diagnosis.
If I sound skeptical here, it's about the claim that it's "so much more" than regular cognitive psychotherapy. Rather than just treating you like a scientific subject as Freudian thereapy does, this (and many other types of) therapy claims to deal with your actual metaphysical status in the world through the four noble truths, i.e. that life is suffering (even if things seem to be going well for you now, it'll suck eventually) but that you can detach from the sources of your suffering, your addiction to your own desires, and attain a higher state of consciousness beyond your petty problems with your mother and the fact that no one likes you and your bed wetting and all by strictly adhering controlling your actions, speech, intentions, efforts, concentration, and even your views (this is the Eightfold Path I'm paraphrasing here, which the fourth Noble Truth tells you to follow).
You can imagine Freud's response here. Tightly controlling yourself to avoid your problems? That's called repression, and frankly, you probably can't pull it off successfully without having a lot of neurotic symptoms. But hey, maybe some people can do it: habits, which are what Buddhism wants you to develop in a certain direction, are powerful things, and maybe you can quiet your inner demons this way and live a life of peace. Give it a shot. But, really, don't be surprised if you Enlightened people don't end up screaming at some slow person in front of you at the supermarket checkout line or lashing out with unexpected vehemence at someone whom you have long suspected has it in for you.
My snarkiness aside, I'd be grateful to hear from anyone here who has first (or second) hand experience with this kind of therapy, as I do wonder if it works just as well as all the other kinds. And if this equalization is correct, could Dianetics actually work too given a decent therapist of that stripe? Egad!
Inspired by this plenitude, I would like to announce my new kind of Dismiss-O therapy, wherein you sit with me and start talking and I interrupt you and say "blah blah blah! Get to the point!" and then you talk some more and I say "whatever!" and you say more things and I say "that's what she said!" and then we play Chutes and Ladders and I say "this is you, going down, down, down! Eat it!" and you are all better after twelve years or so of this. If you are interested in Dismiss-O therapy and cannot afford my personal services, you can just play this video blog episode that I found via a quick web search over and over and over again until you are dead.
-Mark Linsenmayer
I am not a Buddhist and have never undergone “Buddhist psychotherapy,” but I did read extensively about Buddhism when I was going through a personal crisis, and found the insights I encountered incredibly useful.
One important difference between the Buddhist approach and Western therapies (as I understand them) is that Buddhists depersonalize suffering. When confronted with a major loss, many people in the West tend to cry, “Why me?” The Buddhists would say, “Why not you? We all experience pain in life. You are not so special.” This can take a lot of sting out the feeling that you, personally, were singled out for misfortune.
And advising people to detach from the source of suffering, rather than wallowing in it, also strikes me as a useful strategy. After all, once you have acknowledged that your mother neglected you, what good is to comb endlessly over the details? Why not detach with love?
Reminding people that all that all events in life, both good and bad, are transient, and that these temporary victories or defeats do not form the core of existence, is also potentially helpful. Some people spend their lives trying to achieve their goals, and never learn to enjoy the ride. Buddhism says go ahead and strive, but why not strive for what will actually make you happy? That promotion or trophy spouse may not be all that you imagine. Noticing the beauty of the world that is already around you might.
And finally, the eightfold path provides some excellent guidelines for living. To argue that people who attempt to practice these Buddhist principles walk around with repressed anger simply isn’t fair. Sure, everyone gets angry. But attempting to engage in right action and right speech–rather than allowing yourself to get involved in conflicts that probably would have passed had you paused before reacting–can actually make you less angry and reactive over time. Even if someone is trying to pick a fight with you, you can refuse to engage. This can have a dramatic effect on an otherwise contentious relationship, making it possible to move on to a constructive dialogue.
Some of this was touched upon in Philippe Goldin’s talk, which I believe you posted previously, Mark. I’m sure Goldin would not disagree that meditation, combined with an understanding of the Four Noble Truths, can reshape the brain, making the practitioner less prone to anxiety and anger. This stuff really works, especially for people who otherwise tend to see themselves as victims. There are no victims in Buddhism, only people who do not yet grasp the true power in an admission of powerlessness.
Like the previous commenter, I’m not a Buddhist, but have studied Buddhism and engaged in “buddhism-based” therapy. First of all, I think you are profoundly misunderstanding the “all life is suffering” piece. My understanding is not that it means, “everything is in flux, and if you’re happy now, just wait! It’ll get worse!” Rather, it’s pointing to the idea that desire, in and of itself, is suffering. Desire requires satisfaction, if you desire you lack satisfaction, if you lack satisfaction you are suffering, therefore if you desire you are suffering.
As for “Buddhist therapy,” it’s almost expected for cognitive behavioral therapists (CBT) to wave the Buddhist flag a bit, and to speak in the language of metaphysics, soul, fundamental well-being. Partly, I take this to be done in a Jungian sense, in which spiritual language and images are a code for the unconsciousness to process and understand events. Partly, it’s because there’s an overlap between CBT and some Buddhist ideas. For example, in CBT, unhappiness is seen as a disconnect between one’s desires/expectations and events — a person in your life may not be behaving as you would wish. One remedy is not to try and change the event, but to change your desire/expectations. In other words, you are lessening your desire, lessening your suffering. The Buddhist difference is that you ought to lessen your desire to the metaphysical point of zero. I don’t find much connection between Freudian psychotherapy and Buddhist ideas, but I may be wrong. I’m not as familiar with Freud — for some reason, your Freud episode won’t load onto my iPod.
Thanks for the fantastic podcast.
OK, I realize this post was snarky in a less than nuanced manner.
I’ll do another post on “Is life really suffering?” The actual discussion of that on a podcast will likely have to wait for Schopenhauer (who is on the list, though not immediate). Gary, you state the point well, though my interpretation is actually right from some of my reading in this area as well, i.e. yes, suffering=desire, which is inescapable, but of course if your important desires are satisfied, it would be melodramatic to call the rest “suffering” and somewhere in my Nagarjuna readings (in the Goodhearted Letter, maybe? I don’t remember) he made the point in response to an anticipated objection that yes, even if you’re in a nice realm (whether as a king now, who the letter was aimed at, or in actually one of the heavenly realms), you still need to be actively ethical or your karma will be messed up such that your next life will be crappy.
I went through a phase myself (early college) where I read a bunch of things that made me think I could change myself to get rid of my problems and take full control of my own moods, but I found it to be a mostly fruitless endeavor in the long run. At the same time, I came away from it with strong and somewhat controversial ideas about our abilities to, for example, choose whom we love and be grossly open-minded aesthetically, largely because even if something is prima facie boring or otherwise objectionable to me, I can usually be patient enough to get past it. Putting it that way, it doesn’t sound particularly Buddhist, but it’s something I still periodically argue with people about (see our Danto episode).
If you listen to the episode I just posted you’ll likely see where I was coming from with this: Depersonalizing suffering is good to the degree that it’s actually possible; “why me?” questions seem rooted in philosophical mistakes (e.g. that there’s a personal God that has it in for me or is testing me or whatever) that are better rooted out if they’re causing problems. Still, none of that to me requires recognizing “emptiness” in the way that a Buddhist like Nagarjuna talks about it.
Thanks for sharing your experiences and insights!
I read a book on Buddhism once and what struck me was how the author clarified that ‘desire is suffering’ is not correct, but ‘desire for what we cannot have is suffering’.