ABSTRACT
‘Don’t hike alone!’ the sign at the trailhead cautions me. I’m entering mountain lion territory. Solitude is what I crave after months of steady engagement. ‘Fight back if attacked!’ I pass on, picking up a long stick and pocketing some hefty stones as I set off to walk and contemplate what I want to say in honor of my friend, Andrew. A taunting charm of childhood bubbled up in my reverie. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.’ It never worked. Words always wounded and later life revealed their lasting, tender scars. But I entered midlife before I appreciated the vulnerability of a community to damage from careless, intemperate, or self-serving speech from its members. Many colleagues behaved as if they viewed community either as an omnipotent extension of their ideal analyst, who can withstand destructive attacks from an envious analysand, or as benevolent Providence herself, who should provide an ideally nourishing and creative environment. When I witnessed the turmoil and reactive anger expressed by Institute staff, analysts, and candidates alike in the wake of a few boundary-breaking members, I saw firsthand the paradox of the collective: it is both terrible in its power to exile or squelch an individual and his/her creativity; and exceedingly vulnerable to destruction from within as well as from without. Its necessary functions are easily crippled by an individual’s or a sub-group’s action and speech, whether their destructiveness is conscious or unconsciously motivated. This insight led to a quest for greater understanding of the forces that operate sub rosa and motivate individuals from behind the scene whenever they congregate in groups.
