Copyright 2008 David Harford
www.harfordtherapy.com
Objectives
An explanation of why I have chosen this topic and its importance to me at the present time.
An overview of the theory of parallel process, including critique of each theorist’s particular stance and a number of personal innovations.
Consideration of the application of parallel process theory to clinical practice, together with several hypothetical examples.
Introduction
In terms of my personal growth, the concept of parallel process is particularly important to me in my current context of commencing practice as a newly endorsed practitioner and, therefore, experiencing formal supervision of my therapeutic work for the first time. In making this transition, I am conscious that my Adult awareness of patterns of interaction must necessarily expand to integrate this newfound level of relational complexity in my work. Where once I was primarily concerned with, ‘the interpersonal pattern of the dyadic therapeutic relationship’1- itself an intricate relational structure with many superimposed levels of communication- I am now mindful of the triadic relationship of client, therapist and supervisor with its attendant network of transactional and transferential interaction, mutual expectation and various contractual and ethical responsibilities. As Keith Tudor notes in his outline of ‘An Organising Framework for Supervision’ (2002):
‘The relational and three-handed nature of supervision clearly emerges: The implications for the supervisee / therapist and the therapeutic relationship both parallel and are paralleled by the supervisory relationship....as regards “Okness”, autonomy, respect, open communication, etc.’2
In addition, prior to encountering parallel process, my understanding of the therapeutic relationship had largely been limited to Mothersole’s ‘micro level of attention’ (1998), with an emphasis on, ‘the minutia of particular interventions….looking closely at the work transaction by transaction’3 and the bilateral exchange of client transference versus therapist countertransference. However, on an intuitive level, I have always thought this too simplistic a vision and, by applying the theory of parallel process to my thinking, have arrived at a much more global view of the multiplicity of transactional and transferential interactions both within and outwith the therapeutic-supervisory triad; concurring with Mothersole that, as therapists, ‘we are as much a part of the systemic field as the [supervisor] or the client. We are a subsystem within the treatment system’, and that, what is going on reflects aspects of all concerned’4.
The Theory of Parallel Process: A Critical Review
It was the psychiatrist Harold Searles (1955) who first observed that, ‘psychotherapists often behave in supervision in the same way the patient behaves in psychotherapy’5, but, crucially, M.J.G. Doehrman (1976) introduced the notion that the client was not solely responsible for initiating this unconscious dynamic; ‘that themes can pass from the supervisory relationship to the therapeutic relationship as well as the other way round’6. As Clarkson notes, Eric Berne (1972) was not slow to notice this bidirectional play of ulterior level communication and his account of, ‘the common form of transference reaction as it occurs in psychotherapy’7 and its corresponding countertransferential reaction hints at an ‘intuitive understanding of the interdependence of transference and countertransference’8, though he never went as far as to extrapolate this idea to the corresponding interaction of the therapeutic and supervisory relationships. Indeed, as far as TA theorists are concerned, we have to wait until Petrūska Clarkson’s work (1991/1992) for a detailed examination of this phenomenon.
After a cumbersome and, in my view, somewhat confused division of transference and countertransference into client-initiated and therapist-initiated categories and then, again, into complementary, constructive, facilitative and destructive subtypes, Clarkson (1992) finally offers a definition of parallel process as, ‘the interactional field of the psychotherapist / client field replicated in the psychotherapist / supervisor field’9, unfortunately, with typical repetitiousness and circularity of language. A similar, though clearer definition is offered by William Cornell and Michel Landaiche (2006) in:
‘Parallel process is a form of transference in which the practitioner enacts with a third party (typically a supervisor) dynamics that originally arose with a client….the supervisor and the therapist can also create a parallel process that is then conveyed back to the patient’10.
Rather better are Clarkson’s diagrammatic representations of parallel process, which capture the essence of these complex interactions quite effectively in a straightforward visual framework, though, again, not without a certain degree of inconsistency and confusion. Of the two diagrams reproduced in both Transactional Analysis Psychotherapy: An Integrated Approach (1992) and her earlier TAJ article (1991), the first example is probably the most successful, based as it is on a simple metaphor of mirroring.
Less successful is Clarkson’s portrayal of ‘The Interactional Field in Context’, where she attempts to delineate the cyclical system of transference and countertransference continually in operation between therapist and client in order to demonstrate that, ‘Any combination of patient and therapist reactions to each other thus forms a dynamic field which is manifested in the supervisory relationship and referred to as parallel process’11. Strangely, Clarkson neglects to include representation of the supervisory relationship in her diagram and, most puzzling of all, arranges her arrowed vectors of unconscious interaction so that they connect therapist and client transferences and countertransferences respectively, rather than the expected transference-countertransference pairings.
A further peculiarity in Clarkson’s otherwise valuable work arises in her uncritical reference to Moldawsky’s (1980) distinction between ‘parallel process’ and ‘parallel process phenomena’12; the former alluding to the characteristic system of transference and countertransference manifested in the supervisory relationship and the latter identifying its mirror image in therapy. Interestingly, this needless division is absent from her later book (1992), as it appears to contradict her subsequent assertion that, ‘To seek first causes in such a complex, dynamically interactive situation seems futile. It is more fruitful to recognize the co-occurrence of such phenomena’13. Indeed, Clarkson proceeds to debunk the notion of original causation altogether by invoking the quantum physics of Danah Zohar (1990) in order to posit the phenomenological similarity of parallel process and fractal theory in that any single transferential transaction within the therapeutic-supervisory triad is representative of the entire system, or as she puts it:
‘Parallel process [is] a fractal of the field….representing (even though in minute form) the structure of the larger whole….No matter how small the size to which it is reduced, the essential features of the field will remain present and available for inspection’14.
Not least among Geoff Mothersole’s (1998) contributions to the evolution of parallel process theory is his percipient awareness of the myriad social and cultural factors impinging on the therapeutic dyad- and, by implication, the therapeutic-supervisory triad- when he says of the ‘Macro’ level of observation:
‘The supervisor bears an important responsibility for seeing that issues of culture and ethnicity are a part of the supervisory agenda and that what Kareem (Kareem & Littlewood, 1992) described as “societal transference” (p.22) issues are explored’15.
Although Mothersole neglects to provide any clinical evidence of socio-cultural parallel process in action and, as yet, I have no examples in practice myself, it is not difficult to envisage numerous hypothetical situations in which such dynamics might arise. Consider, for instance, the arrival of a black client in the consulting room, which triggers a negative countertransference reaction in a white therapist with a deep-seated mistrust of the ethnic minorities deriving from introjected parental values which have yet to be integrated into Adult awareness. Consider, in turn, the countertransferential discomfort experienced by a white supervisor upon hearing of this new client; a supervisor who happens to share some of that same unconscious prejudice. And what of the male supervisor who discounts a young female therapist’s concern for her client with a snort of Critical Parent derision in the same way that he discounts his daughter’s anxieties over school? What if that inexperienced therapist were to adopt a conciliatory Adapted Child stance in response to her supervisor’s transference- an unconscious identification reinforced by the way that he resembles her late father- and then pass some of that same Critical Parent derision onto her female client? Without prompt Adult intervention, the possibilities for counter-therapeutic, ‘games based on: ‘Since I am a healer, if you don’t get better it’s your fault (e.g. ‘I’m Only Trying to Help You’)’16 and other ‘Games that are tenaciously played in the therapeutic [and supervisory] situation’17 are potentially limitless.
Submitting to the categorising imperative evident in so much TA theory and appearing to return, too, to the precept of original causation in spite of Clarkson’s co-option of quantum physics, Mothersole goes on to outline three types of parallel process based on the source of the initial ulterior transaction. Type 1 is identified as, ‘the aspect of the process that can be seen as emanating from the client and is replicated by the supervisee in the supervision’18; the classic clinical illustration being the client with a Don’t Think injunction, whose helplessness in therapy is reproduced in supervision by a therapist confused as to how to progress their treatment19. ‘Type 2’ and ‘Type 3’ are ascribed to the therapist and supervisor respectively, before Mothersole again demonstrates a shrewd appreciation of external socio-cultural influences on parallel process through the concept of, ‘Lateral Seepage….emanating from outside the current triad, e.g. relating to another client or reflect[ing] organizational dynamics’20.
Keith Tudor (2002) further enriches the stock of available approaches to the study of parallel process in clinical practice by advocating:
‘The use of transactional analysis proper (i.e. analysis of transactions) and applying Berne’s….criteria for ego state diagnosis to situations in supervision when a process- whether the client’s, the supervisee’s, or the supervisor’s- is being presented, discussed, and analyzed as a possible parallel process’21.
After providing this simple, yet effective diagnostic model, Tudor borrows further from Berne’s work- on this occasion, adopting his first rule of communication (1964/1968), which states that, ‘as long as the transactions are complementary, communication [and, by extension, parallel process] can, in principle, proceed indefinitely’23, and the natural corollary that, ‘communication is broken off when a crossed transaction occurs’24- in order to hint at a possible means of intervention. Though he foregrounds the strategy only very briefly, Tudor suggests that a supervisor, or indeed a therapist, might confront the ongoing transferential and countertransferential chain of complementary transactions by responding, ‘from integrating Adult, thus cutting across the parallel process’25.
Despite the obvious applications of such an elegant illustration within both clinical and supervisory practice, Tudor’s account of parallel process is not without its problems. Most notably, his confident assertion that, ‘the supervisor is more separate from the client and the therapeutic relationship and thus more able….to identify such processes and, in reflecting on them, to generate options for therapeutic responses [and] interventions’26, though true in the sense of physical separateness, contradicts Clarkson’s established quantum view of the therapeutic-supervisory triad, where, ‘the idea that the observer can remain “neutral” and not influence the observational field is quite disproved’27. There seems to be an implicit reluctance in Tudor’s argument to admit the possibility that, ‘supervisees may be part of a projective identification process initiated by supervisors, outside the conscious awareness of either’28, as though a supervisor, by virtue of ‘superior’ skills and experience, might somehow be able to operate beyond the influence of the interactional field. Personally speaking, I believe Mothersole’s reflections on ‘mutual influencing and intersubjectivity’29 to be a much more accurate assessment of the all-inclusive narrative of parallel process, where:
‘As supervisors we are as much a part of the systemic field as the supervisee or the client. We are a subsystem within the treatment system….We are in a web of mutual cocreation of the story and of the frame within which that story is understood from the moment that the system emerges’30.
Conclusion
Drawing inspiration from Mothersole’s constructivist view of the therapeutic and supervisory relationships as fluid intersubjective spaces, where complex, multilayered narratives are created by the continuous interplay of social and ulterior level transactions, transferences and countertransferences, I have come to understand parallel process as the manifestation of recurrent script motifs running contrapuntally through those narratives beneath the level of conscious awareness. If not firmly confronted from the Adult ego state by a watchful therapist, or supervisor, these counter-therapeutic motifs can serve to reinforce damaging script beliefs and rackety behaviour for all three participants in the therapeutic-supervisory triad and, ultimately, produce the ‘well-defined, predictable outcome31’ of a game payoff, which, in the worst case scenario, could potentially bring the pathological narrative of an individual’s life script closer to its tragic finale ‘in the surgery, the courtroom or the morgue’32.
That said, given the ‘figure-ground nature of human perception and psychological processes’33 identified by Gestalt psychology, it is clearly impossible for any therapist, or supervisor- no matter what their degree of skill or experience- to be simultaneously aware of all aspects of ‘the interactional field of the therapist / patient field [as] replicated in the therapist / supervisor field’34. Furthermore, as Clarkson (1991) sagely observes from her quantum, co-creative perspective, there is little value in trying to attribute responsibility for initiating the chain of parallel process to either the client, therapist, or supervisor, as, ‘To seek first causes in such a complex, dynamically interactive situation seems futile’35. Consequently, there is a very real danger for the therapist, or supervisor who wishes to tackle manifestations of parallel process in the consulting room of becoming entangled in the ‘web of mutual cocreation’36, of getting stuck in ‘a form of articulate paralysis’37, where the complexity of conscious and unconscious interaction in any one moment is beyond human comprehension; a trap to which a beginning practitioner like myself, with a tendency towards exhibiting ‘Be Perfect’ driver behaviour in professional settings, is particularly susceptible.
One possible route out of this perceptual bind is offered by the very same Gestalt thinking that, in a sense, presented the quandary in the first place. As Clarkson (1991) suggests towards the end of her article, when we seek to confront parallel process and restore Adult-Adult interaction in the therapeutic-supervisory triad:
‘It is certainly more pragmatic to place the emphasis on those areas where it is possible to achieve the maximum leverage or most efficient resolution….In other words, at the moment of therapeutic engagement in the relationship, it may be most useful to consider that patient [or therapist] transference and therapist [or supervisor] countertransference are most likely to provide the richest and most accurate options for intervention’38.
This treatment approach represents an innovative combination of the figure-ground model of human perception, the fractal theories of quantum physics and more traditional TA interventions around confronting games and rackets in that it is proposed that by interrupting the interactive chain of parallel process at any point ‘within the treatment system’39, by crossing a single ulterior transaction in the cycle of transference and countertransference, a client, or therapist can be invited back into Adult awareness and the entire character of the therapeutic-supervisory interactional field changed from a system that reinforces script and pathology to one that promotes psychological good health for all concerned, or as Berne (1964 / 1968) would describe it, ‘The attainment of autonomy [as] manifested by the release or recovery of three capacities: awareness, spontaneity and intimacy’40. In this way, Clarkson manages to transform what might seem to be an insurmountable task, that of perceiving and effectively confronting the myriad transferential and countertransferential possibilities extant in any particular therapeutic-supervisory triad, into the comparatively simple matter of crossing a transaction- which is both ‘useful and empowering’41 for a beginning practitioner like myself.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Petrūska Clarkson, Transactional Analysis Psychotherapy: An Integrated Approach
(Routledge, London, 1992)
2. Eric Berne, Games People Play (Penguin, London, 1968)
3. Eric Berne, What Do You Say After You Say Hello? (Corgi, London 1975)
4. Petrūska Clarkson, ‘Therapeutic ‘Further Through The Looking Glass: Transference,
Countertransference, and Parallel Process in Transactional Analysis Psychotherapy and Supervision’, TAJ 21:3 (1991)
5. Geoff Mothersole, ‘Levels of Attention in Clinical Supervision’, TAJ 28:4 (1998)
6. Keith Tudor, ‘Transactional Analysis Supervision or Supervision Analysed
Transactionally?’, TAJ 32:1 (2002)
7. William F. Cornell & N. Michel Landaiche, ‘Impasse and Intimacy: Applying Berne’s
Concept of Script Protocol’, TAJ 36:3 (2006)
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Rubberbands: A Theoretical Synthesis and Exploration of Treatment
Copyright David Harford 2007
www.harfordtherapy.com
Abstract
Drawing from diverse theoretical approaches from the Classical, Cathexis and Redecision schools of TA, I offer a fresh perspective on the rubberband in terms of how it coincides with various conceptual models of ego state function and script. A new classification of rubberbands into the ‘interpersonal’ and ‘environmental’ is presented, combined with a number of diagrams with potential uses in teaching and treatment. Making use of personal experience of the rubberband phenomenon, I then move on to consider various possible treatment approaches, again incorporating elements from several schools of TA and placing special emphasis on the therapist’s use of self.
The concept of the rubberband appears to have been somewhat overlooked in recent TA writing. Barring sporadic references in the Transactional Analysis Journal, this striking analogy has remained a minor footnote to the fundamentals of script, ego states and life position that compose the Classical TA paradigm. Why this might be is not immediately apparent. It is not that the rubberband has been discredited by subsequent generations of practitioners. Ironically enough (considering its meaning), it appears to have been left behind in TA history; one suspects for no greater sin than being considered a rather quaint idea devised by the American pioneers of the movement; an anachronistic throwback to the populist, post-Woodstock cultural specificity of its Californian origins. Certainly, those early articles by Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) and Erskine (1974) rather play into the hands of potential detractors by way of their superficial explanation of the model and slightly glib suggestions for intervention, which for the former pair, ‘depends on the therapist’s hunches’. 1
On the other hand, having personally experienced the phenomenological reality of rubberbands during numerous trips back to my family home, of being yanked back to earlier unhappy times apparently by the house itself, I consider the concept as worthy of further analysis, especially as it seems to correspond very closely with certain features of the Racket System (1979), transference and the Schiffian models of symbiosis (1971) and frame of reference (1975). Could the rubberband have suffered, then, at the hands of its own simplicity and universality?
But what exactly is a rubberband?
Comparing the few accounts available in the literature, I noticed a marked schism between the early TA understandings of the 1970s and the more precise reconfigurations to be found in the work of later theorists. Where the former talk of affect, the latter foreground process.
From the outset, Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) run the risk of blurring rubberbands with racket feelings in suggesting that:
‘When something in the present situation triggers a response in the patient which appears out-of-place….the feeling may be archaic; a snap-back or “Rubberband” to an old, familiar, childhood feeling, which is being expressed here and now’.2
The muddle is compounded by a later mention of rubberbands as ‘ties to the past- archaic feelings- which may prevent a person from functioning fully in the NOW’3. These rather loose descriptions sound very similar to Stewart and Joines’ 1987 definition of a racket feeling as:
‘A familiar emotion, learned and encouraged in childhood, experienced in many different stress situations, and maladaptive as an adult means of problem-solving’4.
Now, obviously, English, Erskine and Zalcman’s detailed analyses of racket feelings had yet to be published and TA theory evolved rapidly in subsequent years. However, with the privilege of hindsight, Kupfer and Haimowitz appear guilty of confusing an intrapsychic mechanism of association- the rubberband in its true sense, by which certain aspects of reality are unconsciously perceived, or ‘hooked onto’, at the expense of others, so as to conform to and reconfirm established script beliefs about self, others and the world- with the phenomenological outcome of that mechanism; the payoff of racket feelings. To put it succinctly, they had confused cause with effect.
In this regard, Stewart and Joines were a little closer to the mark when they summarised a rubberband as:
‘A point of similarity between a here-and-now stress situation and a painful situation from the person’s own childhood, usually not recalled in awareness, in response to which the person is likely to go into script’5.
Again, though, I feel this later definition falls short on two counts. First of all, there is no mention of the discounting by the person experiencing a rubberband of those aspects of the current situation which do not resemble the past; the unconscious filtering out of data which might conflict with their script beliefs and which effectively prevents them from ‘making a clear assessment of their internal and external realities’6. In Stewart and Joines’ phrasing, the person undergoing a rubberband is passive in the Schiffian sense. They do not ‘use information relevant to [the] situation’7 and, instead, adopt the Victim position of someone helpless in the face of an apparently irresistible connection between present and past.
Secondly, they fail to account for the transferential nature of some rubberbands in that the point of similarity may indeed reside in a ‘stress situation’, but it may also be a resemblance between an actual person in the present with an equally real figure from the past. There may be a coincidental likeness of speech, for instance, a familiar body odour, or the fact that both figures happen by chance to be tall, bearded men in a position of authority- say a headmaster in the past and a therapist in the present. To borrow from Carlo Moiso’s account of P2 transference, in this interpersonal form of rubberband:
‘The patient projects the ego states of the real parents [or, here, the headmaster] onto a screen in front of the therapist….He then feels and acts out toward the therapist those feelings, manifests those needs and puts into action those kinds of rackets and games which are an example of his original relationship with the [headmaster]’8.
Interpersonal rubberbands can also be portrayed as an unconscious mechanism by which one person invites another into a symbiotic relationship. The hypothetical male client referred to above, rooted firmly in his Child ego state, projecting an old headmaster onto his therapist, discounting the fact that he is no longer a schoolboy and has many other Adult options (in Karpman’s sense10) at his disposal, can be seen as issuing an ulterior invitation to the therapist to effectively become that headmaster and either admonish him from the Persecutor’s position on Karpman’s Drama Triangle (1968), or else supply Rescuing answers to the presenting problem and, thereby, stroke his maladaptive helplessness. In this way, unless consistently confronted, the client’s rubberband is a route into pathological dependency, an outdated ‘attempt to get taken care of’11 and stroke the unthinking carer into keeping that care coming- in short, symbiosis.
Of course, it is perfectly feasible for someone to experience the rubberband phenomenon when alone; a regression into archaic modes of functioning seemingly induced by a return to old haunts, or a striking similarity between different contexts entirely separate in space and time. This purely intrapsychic method of replaying the past- thereby reconfirming any maladaptive decisions about self, others and the world and moving towards the payoff demanded by a person’s chosen life script- I have labeled an ‘environmental rubberband’; the repetitious, unproductive action of which parallels not only the internal recycling of ‘all the Parent and Child contaminations of the Adult based upon and supporting script decisions’13 outlined in the Script Beliefs ‘column’14 of Erskine and Zalcman’s Racket System (1979), but also recalls Bob and Mary Goulding’s concept of impasse, where a stalemate develops ‘between the Parent ego state of the individual and his Child ego state’15 at the expense of Adult awareness of the uniqueness of each moment in external reality.
Like the interpersonal variant, the environmental rubberband is an unconscious mechanism of association whereby a person ‘hooks on to some feature of the present’16- in my case, the view from my bedroom window as seen while propped up on pillows on my bed- discounting all other features of the scene, including the various differences of self and external reality in time and space. The person then phenomenologically re-experiences painful episodes from the past linked to those familiar surroundings, effectively reverting to the person they were at the time, with a corresponding shrinkage in the Adult-maintained portion of their frame of reference, the options and personal resources they perceive as open to them and a simultaneous escalation of grandiosity, passivity and the intrapsychic reaffirmation of negative script beliefs about themselves and others.
So much for the nature and function of rubberbands- how might a therapist approach their treatment?
The solution to my own problem with an environmental rubberband in my old bedroom was simply to alter the position of the bed, so that I no longer faced that familiar view through the window with all its archaic, ‘script-bound’17 associations of loneliness, racket anger and general teenage ennui. This visual shift in perspective allowed me to cathect sufficient Adult to ‘understand how present ineffective behavior was once not only effective, but even essential to [my] existence’18 and then redecide to make full use of my present Adult resources and enjoy some healthy Free Child fun.
Of course, not all rubberbands are resolved by a client rearranging their furniture, or a therapist altering some feature of the consulting room. For the client to make lasting changes towards a more autonomous future, the passive, symbiotic and transferential aspects of their rubberbanding need to be addressed by a potent and protective therapist19 who uses their self ‘in a directed way to assist the client’s process of developing and integrating contact and satisfying relational needs’20.
Twenty-two years previously, Richard Erskine had offered a concise, if somewhat cursory outline of his redecision approach when he suggested that:
‘Disconnecting the Rubberbands involves the patient in: re-experiencing past feelings which are the same as the current ones; receiving Permission and Protection to feel and express those feelings which are not expressed in the original situation….recognizing how early decisions have and are still affecting life; and finally, making a new decision’21.
Expanding this early recommendation in the light of Erskine’s later work with Rebecca Trautmann (1996) and drawing, in addition, on the diverse schools of TA thought represented by Holtby (1975), the Schiffs (1971), Moiso (1985) and Hay (2000) yields a much more comprehensive methodology of rubberband treatment.
There is no better way for any such treatment to begin, though, than from a solid ‘I’m OK, You’re Ok’ philosophy and a respectful ‘assumption that the therapist knows nothing about the client’s [rubberband] experience and therefore must continually strive to understand the subjective meaning of the client’s behaviour and intrapsychic process’22. Following the mutual agreement of a specific, measurable and achievable contract, the client is then invited to explore their rubberband; the therapist resisting any countertransferential impulse to interpret, or hastily explain away the client’s narrative, instead, only asking those questions that permit the client to phenomenologically re-experience the rubberband and its resultant negative emotions in a compassionate and empathic environment they perceive as secure from their Child ego state, thereby avoiding triggering any scripty resistance. In Elizabeth Mintz’s words, as quoted in Holtby’s ‘TA And Psychodrama’ (1975), the therapist seeks to encourage, ‘a regression to childlike ways of feeling and a repetition of a traumatic childhood experience in an atmosphere of warmth and safety, followed by a reintegration of the childhood trauma on a mature level’23.
Of great significance in this early treatment phase of contactful inquiry is the subtle tactic, alluded to by Moiso, of allowing the client to ‘establish a transference relationship with the therapist’ and the therapist’s use of self in giving themselves ‘permission to have a countertransference and to analyze it’24. Much can be learned by both practitioner and client from the transferential aspects of any interpersonal rubberband occurring during therapy. Erskine and Trautmann stress the importance of these phenomena as a rich source of therapeutic information that can be integrated into the Adult ego states of both parties, reframing them as:
‘1. the means whereby the client can describe his or her past, the developmental needs that have been thwarted, and the defenses that were created to compensate; 2.…an unaware enactment of childhood experiences (the repeated relationship); 3. the expression of….the desire to achieve the satisfaction of relational needs and intimacy in relationships (the therapeutically needed relationship)25’
Critical, too, at this juncture is the notion that the therapist’s sensitive use of self- the timing of interventions carefully attuned to the level and pace of the client’s understanding; the empathic mirroring of the client’s posture; the Protection and Permission implicit in the compassionate acceptance and the holding, or containment of the client’s emotional state- demonstrates to the client that the therapist is not a reincarnation of that dreaded figure at the other end of their interpersonal rubberband. The therapist is, instead, modelling for the client the genuine possibility of Berne’s ideal of autonomy in a contactful relationship; that any restrictive script beliefs about self and others are inconsistent with reality as found in the therapy room and that all those familiar maladaptive attempts to get unresolved needs met by symbiotic dependency, ‘repetitive and stylized’26 rackets and games are no longer necessary, as the client’s relational needs are being met by the therapist.
In subsequent phases of ‘disconnecting rubberbands’, the practitioner may employ more challenging treatment approaches; the requisite rapport, or therapeutic bond between therapist and client having been firmly established by the preceding empathic inquiry and attunement.
One such technique is confrontation- an element of the therapist’s use of self that for Erskine comprises part of ‘acknowledgement’27. In particular, I mean the careful confrontation of all those discounts of self, others and external reality that collectively facilitate the associative mechanism of a rubberband, or as the Schiffs described it, ‘consistently confronting the discount at a level which cannot be ignored or acted on symbiotically’28; the last clause of which refers to the need to avoid encouraging unhelpful over-adaptation, or withdrawal in a client in their Child ego state who favours the Victim position, or else a defensive rejection of the therapist from a client in Parent who prefers a Persecutory stance (Karpman 1968).
In our previous example of an interpersonal rubberband, confrontation might mean inviting the client to integrate into their Adult the knowledge that, despite resemblance in two, or three characteristics, the therapist is not their old headmaster and won’t inflict punishment, or expose them to humiliation should they renege on their contract commitments. The client is encouraged to take on board the ‘juxtaposition between the attuned contact offered by the therapist and the emotional memories of previous misattunements’29. In the case of an environmental rubberband, a therapist might confront a client with the logical truth that a particular room is not of itself ‘depressing’- an evasion of responsibility symptomatic of a ‘Be Strong’ driver arrived at by unconscious association with an early traumatic experience in that setting- and that the client is, in fact, choosing to depress themselves. By recognizing their tendency to operate from the Schiffs’ ‘external frame of reference’- holding grandiose opinions on ‘the reality situation and [discounting] aspects of him or herself’30- and integrating this new information into their neopsyche, the client can expand the Adult portion of their frame of reference and redecide to feel something different in that room (Diagram 3).
Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) hint at a further strategy for dealing with these ‘ties to the past’ when they suggest, albeit in passing, that ‘Not all Rubberbands are negative or painful. Some may be very stimulating and encouraging’31. This positive reinterpretation is echoed much later in Julie Hay’s article on organizational applications of TA, where, harnessing her training in neurolinguistic programming, with its emphasis on the client devising ‘a neurological strategy that leads [them] to adopt a specific resource state’32- in TA language, empowering the client to use all their current Adult resources- Hay proffers the therapeutic potential of ‘positive rubberbanding: bringing a good feeling from the past into the present’ and ‘reverse rubberbanding: taking a good feeling from the present into the past’33.
Still another alternative for intervention is offered by consideration of the Racket System (1979), particularly with respect to how the mechanism of environmental rubberbands parallels that model’s intrapsychic recycling of archaic beliefs about self, others and external reality, and, also, the prior justification provided by ‘Reinforcing Memories’, which, ‘serve as feedback to the Script Beliefs’34. As Erskine and Zalcman explain in their account of how to ‘interrupt the flow’ of this self-perpetuating cycle, ‘A direct question, “Is this belief really true in your life today?” frequently produces the insight that he/she is operating from old perceptions or misconceptions’35 and the integrative power of this new awareness is enough to sever the rubberband and permit here-and-now Adult functioning. Equally, a therapist might support their client to examine those Reinforcing Memories of ostensible similar experiences triggered by the rubberband and, by sensitive inquiry and confrontation, help them identify which aspects of past situations they discount so as to conform to their scripty frame of reference and bring them a step closer to their chosen payoff.
One thing is certain: whatever the therapist’s preferred method of treating rubberbands, ‘it must be consistently practiced in order to establish new associational patterns’36 and any sign of autonomy from the client vigorously reinforced by positive strokes. After all, if a client is to finally ‘disconnect’ their rubberbands, they require not only the protection and permission to cathect Child and re-experience the origin of their script beliefs. Once they have acknowledged their discounts and redecided from Adult to change those archaic decisions, they also need a therapist with a potent Parent, who can lavish them with praise and cement those changes, forming a new affirmatory introject.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Ian Stewart & Vann Joines, TA Today
(Lifespace Publishing, Nottingham, 1987)
2. Stan Woollams & Michael Brown, Transactional Analysis
(Huron Valley Institute Press, 1978)
3. Bob Goulding & Mary Goulding, Changing Lives Through Redecision Therapy
(Grove Press, New York, 1979)
4.Pat Crossman, ‘Permission and Protection’, TAB 5:19 (1966)
5. David Kupfer & Morris Haimowitz, ‘Therapeutic Interventions Part 1: Rubberbands Now’,
TAJ 1:1 (1971)
6.Jacqui Schiff & Aaron Schiff, ‘Passivity’, TAJ 1:1 (1971)
7.Stephen Karpman, ‘Options’, TAJ 1:1 (1971)
8. Richard Erskine, ‘Therapeutic Intervention: Disconnecting Rubberbands’,
TAJ 4:1 (1974)
9. Michael Holtby, ‘TA and Psychodrama’, TAJ 5:2 (1975)
10.Jacqui Schiff & Aaron Schiff, ‘Frames Of Reference’, TAJ 5:3 (1975)
11. Richard Erskine & Marilyn Zalcman, ‘The Racket System’, TAJ 9:1 (1979)
12. Carlo Moiso, ‘Ego States and Transference’, TAJ 15:3 (1985)
13. Richard Erskine & Rebecca Trautmann, ‘Methods Of An Integrative Psychotherapy’,
TAJ 26:4 (1996)
14. Julie Hay, ‘Organizational Transactional Analysis: Some Opinions and Ideas’,
TAJ 30:3 (2000)
www.harfordtherapy.com
Abstract
Drawing from diverse theoretical approaches from the Classical, Cathexis and Redecision schools of TA, I offer a fresh perspective on the rubberband in terms of how it coincides with various conceptual models of ego state function and script. A new classification of rubberbands into the ‘interpersonal’ and ‘environmental’ is presented, combined with a number of diagrams with potential uses in teaching and treatment. Making use of personal experience of the rubberband phenomenon, I then move on to consider various possible treatment approaches, again incorporating elements from several schools of TA and placing special emphasis on the therapist’s use of self.
The concept of the rubberband appears to have been somewhat overlooked in recent TA writing. Barring sporadic references in the Transactional Analysis Journal, this striking analogy has remained a minor footnote to the fundamentals of script, ego states and life position that compose the Classical TA paradigm. Why this might be is not immediately apparent. It is not that the rubberband has been discredited by subsequent generations of practitioners. Ironically enough (considering its meaning), it appears to have been left behind in TA history; one suspects for no greater sin than being considered a rather quaint idea devised by the American pioneers of the movement; an anachronistic throwback to the populist, post-Woodstock cultural specificity of its Californian origins. Certainly, those early articles by Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) and Erskine (1974) rather play into the hands of potential detractors by way of their superficial explanation of the model and slightly glib suggestions for intervention, which for the former pair, ‘depends on the therapist’s hunches’. 1
On the other hand, having personally experienced the phenomenological reality of rubberbands during numerous trips back to my family home, of being yanked back to earlier unhappy times apparently by the house itself, I consider the concept as worthy of further analysis, especially as it seems to correspond very closely with certain features of the Racket System (1979), transference and the Schiffian models of symbiosis (1971) and frame of reference (1975). Could the rubberband have suffered, then, at the hands of its own simplicity and universality?
But what exactly is a rubberband?
Comparing the few accounts available in the literature, I noticed a marked schism between the early TA understandings of the 1970s and the more precise reconfigurations to be found in the work of later theorists. Where the former talk of affect, the latter foreground process.
From the outset, Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) run the risk of blurring rubberbands with racket feelings in suggesting that:
‘When something in the present situation triggers a response in the patient which appears out-of-place….the feeling may be archaic; a snap-back or “Rubberband” to an old, familiar, childhood feeling, which is being expressed here and now’.2
The muddle is compounded by a later mention of rubberbands as ‘ties to the past- archaic feelings- which may prevent a person from functioning fully in the NOW’3. These rather loose descriptions sound very similar to Stewart and Joines’ 1987 definition of a racket feeling as:
‘A familiar emotion, learned and encouraged in childhood, experienced in many different stress situations, and maladaptive as an adult means of problem-solving’4.
Now, obviously, English, Erskine and Zalcman’s detailed analyses of racket feelings had yet to be published and TA theory evolved rapidly in subsequent years. However, with the privilege of hindsight, Kupfer and Haimowitz appear guilty of confusing an intrapsychic mechanism of association- the rubberband in its true sense, by which certain aspects of reality are unconsciously perceived, or ‘hooked onto’, at the expense of others, so as to conform to and reconfirm established script beliefs about self, others and the world- with the phenomenological outcome of that mechanism; the payoff of racket feelings. To put it succinctly, they had confused cause with effect.
In this regard, Stewart and Joines were a little closer to the mark when they summarised a rubberband as:
‘A point of similarity between a here-and-now stress situation and a painful situation from the person’s own childhood, usually not recalled in awareness, in response to which the person is likely to go into script’5.
Again, though, I feel this later definition falls short on two counts. First of all, there is no mention of the discounting by the person experiencing a rubberband of those aspects of the current situation which do not resemble the past; the unconscious filtering out of data which might conflict with their script beliefs and which effectively prevents them from ‘making a clear assessment of their internal and external realities’6. In Stewart and Joines’ phrasing, the person undergoing a rubberband is passive in the Schiffian sense. They do not ‘use information relevant to [the] situation’7 and, instead, adopt the Victim position of someone helpless in the face of an apparently irresistible connection between present and past.
Secondly, they fail to account for the transferential nature of some rubberbands in that the point of similarity may indeed reside in a ‘stress situation’, but it may also be a resemblance between an actual person in the present with an equally real figure from the past. There may be a coincidental likeness of speech, for instance, a familiar body odour, or the fact that both figures happen by chance to be tall, bearded men in a position of authority- say a headmaster in the past and a therapist in the present. To borrow from Carlo Moiso’s account of P2 transference, in this interpersonal form of rubberband:
‘The patient projects the ego states of the real parents [or, here, the headmaster] onto a screen in front of the therapist….He then feels and acts out toward the therapist those feelings, manifests those needs and puts into action those kinds of rackets and games which are an example of his original relationship with the [headmaster]’8.
Interpersonal rubberbands can also be portrayed as an unconscious mechanism by which one person invites another into a symbiotic relationship. The hypothetical male client referred to above, rooted firmly in his Child ego state, projecting an old headmaster onto his therapist, discounting the fact that he is no longer a schoolboy and has many other Adult options (in Karpman’s sense10) at his disposal, can be seen as issuing an ulterior invitation to the therapist to effectively become that headmaster and either admonish him from the Persecutor’s position on Karpman’s Drama Triangle (1968), or else supply Rescuing answers to the presenting problem and, thereby, stroke his maladaptive helplessness. In this way, unless consistently confronted, the client’s rubberband is a route into pathological dependency, an outdated ‘attempt to get taken care of’11 and stroke the unthinking carer into keeping that care coming- in short, symbiosis.
Of course, it is perfectly feasible for someone to experience the rubberband phenomenon when alone; a regression into archaic modes of functioning seemingly induced by a return to old haunts, or a striking similarity between different contexts entirely separate in space and time. This purely intrapsychic method of replaying the past- thereby reconfirming any maladaptive decisions about self, others and the world and moving towards the payoff demanded by a person’s chosen life script- I have labeled an ‘environmental rubberband’; the repetitious, unproductive action of which parallels not only the internal recycling of ‘all the Parent and Child contaminations of the Adult based upon and supporting script decisions’13 outlined in the Script Beliefs ‘column’14 of Erskine and Zalcman’s Racket System (1979), but also recalls Bob and Mary Goulding’s concept of impasse, where a stalemate develops ‘between the Parent ego state of the individual and his Child ego state’15 at the expense of Adult awareness of the uniqueness of each moment in external reality.
Like the interpersonal variant, the environmental rubberband is an unconscious mechanism of association whereby a person ‘hooks on to some feature of the present’16- in my case, the view from my bedroom window as seen while propped up on pillows on my bed- discounting all other features of the scene, including the various differences of self and external reality in time and space. The person then phenomenologically re-experiences painful episodes from the past linked to those familiar surroundings, effectively reverting to the person they were at the time, with a corresponding shrinkage in the Adult-maintained portion of their frame of reference, the options and personal resources they perceive as open to them and a simultaneous escalation of grandiosity, passivity and the intrapsychic reaffirmation of negative script beliefs about themselves and others.
So much for the nature and function of rubberbands- how might a therapist approach their treatment?
The solution to my own problem with an environmental rubberband in my old bedroom was simply to alter the position of the bed, so that I no longer faced that familiar view through the window with all its archaic, ‘script-bound’17 associations of loneliness, racket anger and general teenage ennui. This visual shift in perspective allowed me to cathect sufficient Adult to ‘understand how present ineffective behavior was once not only effective, but even essential to [my] existence’18 and then redecide to make full use of my present Adult resources and enjoy some healthy Free Child fun.
Of course, not all rubberbands are resolved by a client rearranging their furniture, or a therapist altering some feature of the consulting room. For the client to make lasting changes towards a more autonomous future, the passive, symbiotic and transferential aspects of their rubberbanding need to be addressed by a potent and protective therapist19 who uses their self ‘in a directed way to assist the client’s process of developing and integrating contact and satisfying relational needs’20.
Twenty-two years previously, Richard Erskine had offered a concise, if somewhat cursory outline of his redecision approach when he suggested that:
‘Disconnecting the Rubberbands involves the patient in: re-experiencing past feelings which are the same as the current ones; receiving Permission and Protection to feel and express those feelings which are not expressed in the original situation….recognizing how early decisions have and are still affecting life; and finally, making a new decision’21.
Expanding this early recommendation in the light of Erskine’s later work with Rebecca Trautmann (1996) and drawing, in addition, on the diverse schools of TA thought represented by Holtby (1975), the Schiffs (1971), Moiso (1985) and Hay (2000) yields a much more comprehensive methodology of rubberband treatment.
There is no better way for any such treatment to begin, though, than from a solid ‘I’m OK, You’re Ok’ philosophy and a respectful ‘assumption that the therapist knows nothing about the client’s [rubberband] experience and therefore must continually strive to understand the subjective meaning of the client’s behaviour and intrapsychic process’22. Following the mutual agreement of a specific, measurable and achievable contract, the client is then invited to explore their rubberband; the therapist resisting any countertransferential impulse to interpret, or hastily explain away the client’s narrative, instead, only asking those questions that permit the client to phenomenologically re-experience the rubberband and its resultant negative emotions in a compassionate and empathic environment they perceive as secure from their Child ego state, thereby avoiding triggering any scripty resistance. In Elizabeth Mintz’s words, as quoted in Holtby’s ‘TA And Psychodrama’ (1975), the therapist seeks to encourage, ‘a regression to childlike ways of feeling and a repetition of a traumatic childhood experience in an atmosphere of warmth and safety, followed by a reintegration of the childhood trauma on a mature level’23.
Of great significance in this early treatment phase of contactful inquiry is the subtle tactic, alluded to by Moiso, of allowing the client to ‘establish a transference relationship with the therapist’ and the therapist’s use of self in giving themselves ‘permission to have a countertransference and to analyze it’24. Much can be learned by both practitioner and client from the transferential aspects of any interpersonal rubberband occurring during therapy. Erskine and Trautmann stress the importance of these phenomena as a rich source of therapeutic information that can be integrated into the Adult ego states of both parties, reframing them as:
‘1. the means whereby the client can describe his or her past, the developmental needs that have been thwarted, and the defenses that were created to compensate; 2.…an unaware enactment of childhood experiences (the repeated relationship); 3. the expression of….the desire to achieve the satisfaction of relational needs and intimacy in relationships (the therapeutically needed relationship)25’
Critical, too, at this juncture is the notion that the therapist’s sensitive use of self- the timing of interventions carefully attuned to the level and pace of the client’s understanding; the empathic mirroring of the client’s posture; the Protection and Permission implicit in the compassionate acceptance and the holding, or containment of the client’s emotional state- demonstrates to the client that the therapist is not a reincarnation of that dreaded figure at the other end of their interpersonal rubberband. The therapist is, instead, modelling for the client the genuine possibility of Berne’s ideal of autonomy in a contactful relationship; that any restrictive script beliefs about self and others are inconsistent with reality as found in the therapy room and that all those familiar maladaptive attempts to get unresolved needs met by symbiotic dependency, ‘repetitive and stylized’26 rackets and games are no longer necessary, as the client’s relational needs are being met by the therapist.
In subsequent phases of ‘disconnecting rubberbands’, the practitioner may employ more challenging treatment approaches; the requisite rapport, or therapeutic bond between therapist and client having been firmly established by the preceding empathic inquiry and attunement.
One such technique is confrontation- an element of the therapist’s use of self that for Erskine comprises part of ‘acknowledgement’27. In particular, I mean the careful confrontation of all those discounts of self, others and external reality that collectively facilitate the associative mechanism of a rubberband, or as the Schiffs described it, ‘consistently confronting the discount at a level which cannot be ignored or acted on symbiotically’28; the last clause of which refers to the need to avoid encouraging unhelpful over-adaptation, or withdrawal in a client in their Child ego state who favours the Victim position, or else a defensive rejection of the therapist from a client in Parent who prefers a Persecutory stance (Karpman 1968).
In our previous example of an interpersonal rubberband, confrontation might mean inviting the client to integrate into their Adult the knowledge that, despite resemblance in two, or three characteristics, the therapist is not their old headmaster and won’t inflict punishment, or expose them to humiliation should they renege on their contract commitments. The client is encouraged to take on board the ‘juxtaposition between the attuned contact offered by the therapist and the emotional memories of previous misattunements’29. In the case of an environmental rubberband, a therapist might confront a client with the logical truth that a particular room is not of itself ‘depressing’- an evasion of responsibility symptomatic of a ‘Be Strong’ driver arrived at by unconscious association with an early traumatic experience in that setting- and that the client is, in fact, choosing to depress themselves. By recognizing their tendency to operate from the Schiffs’ ‘external frame of reference’- holding grandiose opinions on ‘the reality situation and [discounting] aspects of him or herself’30- and integrating this new information into their neopsyche, the client can expand the Adult portion of their frame of reference and redecide to feel something different in that room (Diagram 3).
Kupfer and Haimowitz (1971) hint at a further strategy for dealing with these ‘ties to the past’ when they suggest, albeit in passing, that ‘Not all Rubberbands are negative or painful. Some may be very stimulating and encouraging’31. This positive reinterpretation is echoed much later in Julie Hay’s article on organizational applications of TA, where, harnessing her training in neurolinguistic programming, with its emphasis on the client devising ‘a neurological strategy that leads [them] to adopt a specific resource state’32- in TA language, empowering the client to use all their current Adult resources- Hay proffers the therapeutic potential of ‘positive rubberbanding: bringing a good feeling from the past into the present’ and ‘reverse rubberbanding: taking a good feeling from the present into the past’33.
Still another alternative for intervention is offered by consideration of the Racket System (1979), particularly with respect to how the mechanism of environmental rubberbands parallels that model’s intrapsychic recycling of archaic beliefs about self, others and external reality, and, also, the prior justification provided by ‘Reinforcing Memories’, which, ‘serve as feedback to the Script Beliefs’34. As Erskine and Zalcman explain in their account of how to ‘interrupt the flow’ of this self-perpetuating cycle, ‘A direct question, “Is this belief really true in your life today?” frequently produces the insight that he/she is operating from old perceptions or misconceptions’35 and the integrative power of this new awareness is enough to sever the rubberband and permit here-and-now Adult functioning. Equally, a therapist might support their client to examine those Reinforcing Memories of ostensible similar experiences triggered by the rubberband and, by sensitive inquiry and confrontation, help them identify which aspects of past situations they discount so as to conform to their scripty frame of reference and bring them a step closer to their chosen payoff.
One thing is certain: whatever the therapist’s preferred method of treating rubberbands, ‘it must be consistently practiced in order to establish new associational patterns’36 and any sign of autonomy from the client vigorously reinforced by positive strokes. After all, if a client is to finally ‘disconnect’ their rubberbands, they require not only the protection and permission to cathect Child and re-experience the origin of their script beliefs. Once they have acknowledged their discounts and redecided from Adult to change those archaic decisions, they also need a therapist with a potent Parent, who can lavish them with praise and cement those changes, forming a new affirmatory introject.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
1. Ian Stewart & Vann Joines, TA Today
(Lifespace Publishing, Nottingham, 1987)
2. Stan Woollams & Michael Brown, Transactional Analysis
(Huron Valley Institute Press, 1978)
3. Bob Goulding & Mary Goulding, Changing Lives Through Redecision Therapy
(Grove Press, New York, 1979)
4.Pat Crossman, ‘Permission and Protection’, TAB 5:19 (1966)
5. David Kupfer & Morris Haimowitz, ‘Therapeutic Interventions Part 1: Rubberbands Now’,
TAJ 1:1 (1971)
6.Jacqui Schiff & Aaron Schiff, ‘Passivity’, TAJ 1:1 (1971)
7.Stephen Karpman, ‘Options’, TAJ 1:1 (1971)
8. Richard Erskine, ‘Therapeutic Intervention: Disconnecting Rubberbands’,
TAJ 4:1 (1974)
9. Michael Holtby, ‘TA and Psychodrama’, TAJ 5:2 (1975)
10.Jacqui Schiff & Aaron Schiff, ‘Frames Of Reference’, TAJ 5:3 (1975)
11. Richard Erskine & Marilyn Zalcman, ‘The Racket System’, TAJ 9:1 (1979)
12. Carlo Moiso, ‘Ego States and Transference’, TAJ 15:3 (1985)
13. Richard Erskine & Rebecca Trautmann, ‘Methods Of An Integrative Psychotherapy’,
TAJ 26:4 (1996)
14. Julie Hay, ‘Organizational Transactional Analysis: Some Opinions and Ideas’,
TAJ 30:3 (2000)
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