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Psychiatrists practice in a wide array of ways. We approach our work and our patients with beliefs and preconceptions that develop over time. Our training has significant influence, though our own personalities and biases also affect our understanding.
Psychiatrists have philosophical lenses through which they see patients. We can reflect and see some standard archetypes. We are familiar with the reductionistic pharmacologist, the somatic treatment specialist, the psychodynamic ‘guru,’ and the medicolegally paralyzed practitioner. It is without judgment that we lay these out, for our very point is that we have these constituent parts within our own clinical identities. The intensity with which we subscribe to these clinical sensibilities could contribute to a biased orthodoxy.
Orthodoxy can be defined as an accepted theory that stems from an authoritative entity. This is a well-known phenomenon that continues to be visible. For example, one can quickly peruse psychodynamic literature to find one school of thought criticizing another. It is not without some confrontation and even interpersonal rifts that the lineage of psychoanalytic theory has evolved. This has always been of interest to us. A core facet of psychoanalysis is empathy, truly knowing the inner state of a different person. And yet, the very bastions of this clinical sensibility frequently resort to veiled attacks on those in their field who have opposing views. It then begs the question: If even enlightened institutions fail at a nonjudgmental approach toward their colleagues, what hope is there for the rest of us clinicians, mired in the thick of day-to-day clinical practice?
It is our contention that the odds are against us. Even the aforementioned critique of psychoanalytic orthodoxy is just another example of how we humans organize our experience. Even as we write an article in argument against unbridled critique, we find it difficult to do so without engaging in it. For to criticize another is to help shore up our own personal identities. This is especially the case when clinicians deal with issues that we feel strongly about. The human psyche has a need to organize its experience, as “our experience of ourselves is fundamental to how we operate in the world. Our subjective experience is the phenomenology of all that one might be aware of.”1
In this vein, we would like to cite attribution theory. This is a view of human behavior within social psychology. The Austrian psychologist Fritz Heider, PhD, investigated “the domain of social interactions, wondering how people perceive each other in interaction and especially how they make sense of each other’s behavior.”2 Attribution theory suggests that as humans organize our social interactions, we may make two basic assumptions. One is that our own behavior is highly affected by an environment that is beyond our control. The second is that when judging the behavior of others, we are more likely to attribute it to internal traits that they have. A classic example is automobile traffic. When we see someone driving erratically, we are more likely to blame them for being an inherently bad driver. However, if attention is called to our own driving, we are more likely to cite external factors such as rush hour, a bad driver around us, or a faulty vehicle.
We would like to reference one last model of human behavior. It has become customary within the field of neuroscience to view the brain as a predictive organ: “Theories of prediction in perception, action, and learning suggest that the brain serves to reduce the discrepancies between expectation and actual experience, i.e., by reducing the prediction error.”3 Perception itself has recently been described as a controlled hallucination, where the brain makes predictions of what it thinks it is about to see based on past experiences. Visual stimulus ultimately takes time to enter our eyes and be processed in the brain – “predictions would need to preactivate neural representations that would typically be driven by sensory input, before the actual arrival of that input.”4 It thus seems to be an inherent method of the brain to anticipate visual and even social events to help human beings sustain themselves.
Having spoken of a psychoanalytic conceptualization of self-organization, the theory of attribution, and research into social neuroscience, we turn our attention back to the central question that this article would like to address.
When we find ourselves busy in rote clinical practice, we believe the likelihood of intercollegiate mentalization is low; our ability to relate to our peers becomes strained. We ultimately do not practice in a vacuum. Psychiatrists, even those in a solo private practice, are ultimately part of a community of providers who, more or less, follow some emergent ‘standard of care.’ This can be a vague concept; but one that takes on a concrete form in the minds of certain clinicians and certainly in the setting of a medicolegal court. Yet, the psychiatrists that we know all have very stereotyped ways of practice. And at the heart of it, we all think that we are right.
We can use polypharmacy as an example. Imagine that you have a new patient intake, who tells you that they are transferring care from another psychiatrist. They inform you of their medication regimen. This patient presents on eight or more psychotropics. Many of us may have a visceral reaction at this point and, following the aforementioned attribution theory, we may ask ourselves what ‘quack’ of a doctor would do this. Yet some among us would think that a very competent psychopharmacologist was daring enough to use the full armamentarium of psychopharmacology to help this patient, who must be treatment refractory.
When speaking with such a patient, we would be quick to reflect on our own parsimonious use of medications. We would tell ourselves that we are responsible providers and would be quick to recommend discontinuation of medications. This would help us feel better about ourselves, and would of course assuage the ever-present medicolegal ‘big brother’ in our minds. It is through this very process that we affirm our self-identities. For if this patient’s previous physician was a bad psychiatrist, then we are a good psychiatrist. It is through this process that our clinical selves find confirmation.
We do not mean to reduce the complexities of human behavior to quick stereotypes. However, it is our belief that when confronted with clinical or philosophical disputes with our colleagues, the basic rules of human behavior will attempt to dissolve and override efforts at mentalization, collegiality, or interpersonal sensitivity. For to accept a clinical practice view that is different from ours would be akin to giving up the essence of our clinical identities. It could be compared to the fragmentation process of a vulnerable psyche when confronted with a reality that is at odds with preconceived notions and experiences.
While we may be able to appreciate the nuances and sensibilities of another provider, we believe it would be particularly difficult for most of us to actually attempt to practice in a fashion that is not congruent with our own organizers of experience. Whether or not our practice style is ‘perfect,’ it has worked for us. Social neuroscience and our understanding of the organization of the self would predict that we would hold onto our way of practice with all the mind’s defenses. Externalization, denial, and projection could all be called into action in this battle against existential fragmentation.
Do we seek to portray a clinical world where there is no hope for genuine modeling of clinical sensibilities to other psychiatrists? That is not our intention. Yet it seems that many of the theoretical frameworks that we subscribe to argue against this possibility. We would be hypocritical if we did not here state that our own theoretical frameworks are yet other examples of “organizers of experience.” Attribution theory, intersubjectivity, and social neuroscience are simply our ways of organizing the chaos of perceptions, ideas, and intricacies of human behavior.
If we accept that psychiatrists, like all human beings, are trapped in a subjective experience, then we can be more playful and flexible when interacting with our colleagues. We do not have to be as defensive of our practices and accusatory of others. If we practice daily according to some orthodoxy, then we color our experiences of the patient and of our colleagues’ ways of practice. We automatically start off on the wrong foot. And yet, to give up this orthodoxy would, by definition, be disorganizing and fragmenting to us. For as Nietzsche said, “truth is an illusion without which a certain species could not survive.”5
Dr. Khalafian practices full time as a general outpatient psychiatrist. He trained at the University of California, San Diego, for his psychiatric residency and currently works as a telepsychiatrist, serving an outpatient clinic population in northern California. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Khalafian have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Buirski P and Haglund P. Making sense together: The intersubjective approach to psychotherapy. Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson; 2001.
2. Malle BF. Attribution theories: How people make sense of behavior. In Chadee D (ed.), Theories in social psychology. pp. 72-95. Wiley-Blackwell; 2011.
3. Brown EC and Brune M. The role of prediction in social neuroscience. Front Hum Neurosci. 2012 May 24;6:147. doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2012.00147.
4. Blom T et al. Predictions drive neural representations of visual events ahead of incoming sensory information. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA. 2020 Mar 31;117(13):7510-7515. doi: 10.1073/pnas.1917777117.
5. Yalom I. The Gift of Therapy. Harper Perennial; 2002.
Psychiatrists practice in a wide array of ways. We approach our work and our patients with beliefs and preconceptions that develop over time. Our training has significant influence, though our own personalities and biases also affect our understanding.
Psychiatrists have philosophical lenses through which they see patients. We can reflect and see some standard archetypes. We are familiar with the reductionistic pharmacologist, the somatic treatment specialist, the psychodynamic ‘guru,’ and the medicolegally paralyzed practitioner. It is without judgment that we lay these out, for our very point is that we have these constituent parts within our own clinical identities. The intensity with which we subscribe to these clinical sensibilities could contribute to a biased orthodoxy.
Orthodoxy can be defined as an accepted theory that stems from an authoritative entity. This is a well-known phenomenon that continues to be visible. For example, one can quickly peruse psychodynamic literature to find one school of thought criticizing another. It is not without some confrontation and even interpersonal rifts that the lineage of psychoanalytic theory has evolved. This has always been of interest to us. A core facet of psychoanalysis is empathy, truly knowing the inner state of a different person. And yet, the very bastions of this clinical sensibility frequently resort to veiled attacks on those in their field who have opposing views. It then begs the question: If even enlightened institutions fail at a nonjudgmental approach toward their colleagues, what hope is there for the rest of us clinicians, mired in the thick of day-to-day clinical practice?
It is our contention that the odds are against us. Even the aforementioned critique of psychoanalytic orthodoxy is just another example of how we humans organize our experience. Even as we write an article in argument against unbridled critique, we find it difficult to do so without engaging in it. For to criticize another is to help shore up our own personal identities. This is especially the case when clinicians deal with issues that we feel strongly about. The human psyche has a need to organize its experience, as “our experience of ourselves is fundamental to how we operate in the world. Our subjective experience is the phenomenology of all that one might be aware of.”1
In this vein, we would like to cite attribution theory. This is a view of human behavior within social psychology. The Austrian psychologist Fritz Heider, PhD, investigated “the domain of social interactions, wondering how people perceive each other in interaction and especially how they make sense of each other’s behavior.”2 Attribution theory suggests that as humans organize our social interactions, we may make two basic assumptions. One is that our own behavior is highly affected by an environment that is beyond our control. The second is that when judging the behavior of others, we are more likely to attribute it to internal traits that they have. A classic example is automobile traffic. When we see someone driving erratically, we are more likely to blame them for being an inherently bad driver. However, if attention is called to our own driving, we are more likely to cite external factors such as rush hour, a bad driver around us, or a faulty vehicle.
We would like to reference one last model of human behavior. It has become customary within the field of neuroscience to view the brain as a predictive organ: “Theories of prediction in perception, action, and learning suggest that the brain serves to reduce the discrepancies between expectation and actual experience, i.e., by reducing the prediction error.”3 Perception itself has recently been described as a controlled hallucination, where the brain makes predictions of what it thinks it is about to see based on past experiences. Visual stimulus ultimately takes time to enter our eyes and be processed in the brain – “predictions would need to preactivate neural representations that would typically be driven by sensory input, before the actual arrival of that input.”4 It thus seems to be an inherent method of the brain to anticipate visual and even social events to help human beings sustain themselves.
Having spoken of a psychoanalytic conceptualization of self-organization, the theory of attribution, and research into social neuroscience, we turn our attention back to the central question that this article would like to address.
When we find ourselves busy in rote clinical practice, we believe the likelihood of intercollegiate mentalization is low; our ability to relate to our peers becomes strained. We ultimately do not practice in a vacuum. Psychiatrists, even those in a solo private practice, are ultimately part of a community of providers who, more or less, follow some emergent ‘standard of care.’ This can be a vague concept; but one that takes on a concrete form in the minds of certain clinicians and certainly in the setting of a medicolegal court. Yet, the psychiatrists that we know all have very stereotyped ways of practice. And at the heart of it, we all think that we are right.
We can use polypharmacy as an example. Imagine that you have a new patient intake, who tells you that they are transferring care from another psychiatrist. They inform you of their medication regimen. This patient presents on eight or more psychotropics. Many of us may have a visceral reaction at this point and, following the aforementioned attribution theory, we may ask ourselves what ‘quack’ of a doctor would do this. Yet some among us would think that a very competent psychopharmacologist was daring enough to use the full armamentarium of psychopharmacology to help this patient, who must be treatment refractory.
When speaking with such a patient, we would be quick to reflect on our own parsimonious use of medications. We would tell ourselves that we are responsible providers and would be quick to recommend discontinuation of medications. This would help us feel better about ourselves, and would of course assuage the ever-present medicolegal ‘big brother’ in our minds. It is through this very process that we affirm our self-identities. For if this patient’s previous physician was a bad psychiatrist, then we are a good psychiatrist. It is through this process that our clinical selves find confirmation.
We do not mean to reduce the complexities of human behavior to quick stereotypes. However, it is our belief that when confronted with clinical or philosophical disputes with our colleagues, the basic rules of human behavior will attempt to dissolve and override efforts at mentalization, collegiality, or interpersonal sensitivity. For to accept a clinical practice view that is different from ours would be akin to giving up the essence of our clinical identities. It could be compared to the fragmentation process of a vulnerable psyche when confronted with a reality that is at odds with preconceived notions and experiences.
While we may be able to appreciate the nuances and sensibilities of another provider, we believe it would be particularly difficult for most of us to actually attempt to practice in a fashion that is not congruent with our own organizers of experience. Whether or not our practice style is ‘perfect,’ it has worked for us. Social neuroscience and our understanding of the organization of the self would predict that we would hold onto our way of practice with all the mind’s defenses. Externalization, denial, and projection could all be called into action in this battle against existential fragmentation.
Do we seek to portray a clinical world where there is no hope for genuine modeling of clinical sensibilities to other psychiatrists? That is not our intention. Yet it seems that many of the theoretical frameworks that we subscribe to argue against this possibility. We would be hypocritical if we did not here state that our own theoretical frameworks are yet other examples of “organizers of experience.” Attribution theory, intersubjectivity, and social neuroscience are simply our ways of organizing the chaos of perceptions, ideas, and intricacies of human behavior.
If we accept that psychiatrists, like all human beings, are trapped in a subjective experience, then we can be more playful and flexible when interacting with our colleagues. We do not have to be as defensive of our practices and accusatory of others. If we practice daily according to some orthodoxy, then we color our experiences of the patient and of our colleagues’ ways of practice. We automatically start off on the wrong foot. And yet, to give up this orthodoxy would, by definition, be disorganizing and fragmenting to us. For as Nietzsche said, “truth is an illusion without which a certain species could not survive.”5
Dr. Khalafian practices full time as a general outpatient psychiatrist. He trained at the University of California, San Diego, for his psychiatric residency and currently works as a telepsychiatrist, serving an outpatient clinic population in northern California. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Khalafian have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Buirski P and Haglund P. Making sense together: The intersubjective approach to psychotherapy. Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson; 2001.
2. Malle BF. Attribution theories: How people make sense of behavior. In Chadee D (ed.), Theories in social psychology. pp. 72-95. Wiley-Blackwell; 2011.
3. Brown EC and Brune M. The role of prediction in social neuroscience. Front Hum Neurosci. 2012 May 24;6:147. doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2012.00147.
4. Blom T et al. Predictions drive neural representations of visual events ahead of incoming sensory information. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA. 2020 Mar 31;117(13):7510-7515. doi: 10.1073/pnas.1917777117.
5. Yalom I. The Gift of Therapy. Harper Perennial; 2002.
Psychiatrists practice in a wide array of ways. We approach our work and our patients with beliefs and preconceptions that develop over time. Our training has significant influence, though our own personalities and biases also affect our understanding.
Psychiatrists have philosophical lenses through which they see patients. We can reflect and see some standard archetypes. We are familiar with the reductionistic pharmacologist, the somatic treatment specialist, the psychodynamic ‘guru,’ and the medicolegally paralyzed practitioner. It is without judgment that we lay these out, for our very point is that we have these constituent parts within our own clinical identities. The intensity with which we subscribe to these clinical sensibilities could contribute to a biased orthodoxy.
Orthodoxy can be defined as an accepted theory that stems from an authoritative entity. This is a well-known phenomenon that continues to be visible. For example, one can quickly peruse psychodynamic literature to find one school of thought criticizing another. It is not without some confrontation and even interpersonal rifts that the lineage of psychoanalytic theory has evolved. This has always been of interest to us. A core facet of psychoanalysis is empathy, truly knowing the inner state of a different person. And yet, the very bastions of this clinical sensibility frequently resort to veiled attacks on those in their field who have opposing views. It then begs the question: If even enlightened institutions fail at a nonjudgmental approach toward their colleagues, what hope is there for the rest of us clinicians, mired in the thick of day-to-day clinical practice?
It is our contention that the odds are against us. Even the aforementioned critique of psychoanalytic orthodoxy is just another example of how we humans organize our experience. Even as we write an article in argument against unbridled critique, we find it difficult to do so without engaging in it. For to criticize another is to help shore up our own personal identities. This is especially the case when clinicians deal with issues that we feel strongly about. The human psyche has a need to organize its experience, as “our experience of ourselves is fundamental to how we operate in the world. Our subjective experience is the phenomenology of all that one might be aware of.”1
In this vein, we would like to cite attribution theory. This is a view of human behavior within social psychology. The Austrian psychologist Fritz Heider, PhD, investigated “the domain of social interactions, wondering how people perceive each other in interaction and especially how they make sense of each other’s behavior.”2 Attribution theory suggests that as humans organize our social interactions, we may make two basic assumptions. One is that our own behavior is highly affected by an environment that is beyond our control. The second is that when judging the behavior of others, we are more likely to attribute it to internal traits that they have. A classic example is automobile traffic. When we see someone driving erratically, we are more likely to blame them for being an inherently bad driver. However, if attention is called to our own driving, we are more likely to cite external factors such as rush hour, a bad driver around us, or a faulty vehicle.
We would like to reference one last model of human behavior. It has become customary within the field of neuroscience to view the brain as a predictive organ: “Theories of prediction in perception, action, and learning suggest that the brain serves to reduce the discrepancies between expectation and actual experience, i.e., by reducing the prediction error.”3 Perception itself has recently been described as a controlled hallucination, where the brain makes predictions of what it thinks it is about to see based on past experiences. Visual stimulus ultimately takes time to enter our eyes and be processed in the brain – “predictions would need to preactivate neural representations that would typically be driven by sensory input, before the actual arrival of that input.”4 It thus seems to be an inherent method of the brain to anticipate visual and even social events to help human beings sustain themselves.
Having spoken of a psychoanalytic conceptualization of self-organization, the theory of attribution, and research into social neuroscience, we turn our attention back to the central question that this article would like to address.
When we find ourselves busy in rote clinical practice, we believe the likelihood of intercollegiate mentalization is low; our ability to relate to our peers becomes strained. We ultimately do not practice in a vacuum. Psychiatrists, even those in a solo private practice, are ultimately part of a community of providers who, more or less, follow some emergent ‘standard of care.’ This can be a vague concept; but one that takes on a concrete form in the minds of certain clinicians and certainly in the setting of a medicolegal court. Yet, the psychiatrists that we know all have very stereotyped ways of practice. And at the heart of it, we all think that we are right.
We can use polypharmacy as an example. Imagine that you have a new patient intake, who tells you that they are transferring care from another psychiatrist. They inform you of their medication regimen. This patient presents on eight or more psychotropics. Many of us may have a visceral reaction at this point and, following the aforementioned attribution theory, we may ask ourselves what ‘quack’ of a doctor would do this. Yet some among us would think that a very competent psychopharmacologist was daring enough to use the full armamentarium of psychopharmacology to help this patient, who must be treatment refractory.
When speaking with such a patient, we would be quick to reflect on our own parsimonious use of medications. We would tell ourselves that we are responsible providers and would be quick to recommend discontinuation of medications. This would help us feel better about ourselves, and would of course assuage the ever-present medicolegal ‘big brother’ in our minds. It is through this very process that we affirm our self-identities. For if this patient’s previous physician was a bad psychiatrist, then we are a good psychiatrist. It is through this process that our clinical selves find confirmation.
We do not mean to reduce the complexities of human behavior to quick stereotypes. However, it is our belief that when confronted with clinical or philosophical disputes with our colleagues, the basic rules of human behavior will attempt to dissolve and override efforts at mentalization, collegiality, or interpersonal sensitivity. For to accept a clinical practice view that is different from ours would be akin to giving up the essence of our clinical identities. It could be compared to the fragmentation process of a vulnerable psyche when confronted with a reality that is at odds with preconceived notions and experiences.
While we may be able to appreciate the nuances and sensibilities of another provider, we believe it would be particularly difficult for most of us to actually attempt to practice in a fashion that is not congruent with our own organizers of experience. Whether or not our practice style is ‘perfect,’ it has worked for us. Social neuroscience and our understanding of the organization of the self would predict that we would hold onto our way of practice with all the mind’s defenses. Externalization, denial, and projection could all be called into action in this battle against existential fragmentation.
Do we seek to portray a clinical world where there is no hope for genuine modeling of clinical sensibilities to other psychiatrists? That is not our intention. Yet it seems that many of the theoretical frameworks that we subscribe to argue against this possibility. We would be hypocritical if we did not here state that our own theoretical frameworks are yet other examples of “organizers of experience.” Attribution theory, intersubjectivity, and social neuroscience are simply our ways of organizing the chaos of perceptions, ideas, and intricacies of human behavior.
If we accept that psychiatrists, like all human beings, are trapped in a subjective experience, then we can be more playful and flexible when interacting with our colleagues. We do not have to be as defensive of our practices and accusatory of others. If we practice daily according to some orthodoxy, then we color our experiences of the patient and of our colleagues’ ways of practice. We automatically start off on the wrong foot. And yet, to give up this orthodoxy would, by definition, be disorganizing and fragmenting to us. For as Nietzsche said, “truth is an illusion without which a certain species could not survive.”5
Dr. Khalafian practices full time as a general outpatient psychiatrist. He trained at the University of California, San Diego, for his psychiatric residency and currently works as a telepsychiatrist, serving an outpatient clinic population in northern California. Dr. Badre is a clinical and forensic psychiatrist in San Diego. He holds teaching positions at the University of California, San Diego, and the University of San Diego. He teaches medical education, psychopharmacology, ethics in psychiatry, and correctional care. Dr. Badre can be reached at his website, BadreMD.com. Dr. Badre and Dr. Khalafian have no conflicts of interest.
References
1. Buirski P and Haglund P. Making sense together: The intersubjective approach to psychotherapy. Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson; 2001.
2. Malle BF. Attribution theories: How people make sense of behavior. In Chadee D (ed.), Theories in social psychology. pp. 72-95. Wiley-Blackwell; 2011.
3. Brown EC and Brune M. The role of prediction in social neuroscience. Front Hum Neurosci. 2012 May 24;6:147. doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2012.00147.
4. Blom T et al. Predictions drive neural representations of visual events ahead of incoming sensory information. Proc Natl Acad Sci USA. 2020 Mar 31;117(13):7510-7515. doi: 10.1073/pnas.1917777117.
5. Yalom I. The Gift of Therapy. Harper Perennial; 2002.