on her wedding dress and to the despair of the dressmaker only
remembered it later in the evening. He adds in connection with this
forgetfulness the fact that she divorced her husband soon after. I know
a lady now divorced from her husband, who, in managing her fortune,
frequently signed documents with her maiden name, and this many years
before she really resumed it. I know of other women who lost their
wedding rings on their honeymoon and also know that the course of the
marriage gave a meaning to this accident. And now one more striking
example with a better termination. It is said that the marriage of a
famous German chemist did not take place because he forgot the hour of
the wedding, and instead of going to the church went to the laboratory.
He was wise enough to rest satisfied with this one attempt, and died
unmarried at a ripe old age.
Perhaps the idea has also come to you that in these cases mistakes have
taken the place of the _Omina_ or omens of the ancients. Some of the
_Omina_ really were nothing more than mistakes; for example, when a
person stumbled or fell down. Others, to be sure, bore the
characteristics of objective occurrences rather than that of subjective
acts. But you would not believe how difficult it sometimes is to decide
in a specific instance whether the act belongs to the one or the other
group. It so frequently knows how to masquerade as a passive experience.
Everyone of us who can look back over a longer or shorter life
experience will probably say that he might have spared himself many
disappointments and painful surprises if he had found the courage and
decision to interpret as omens the little mistakes which he made in his
intercourse with people, and to consider them as indications of the
intentions which were still being kept secret. As a rule, one does not
dare do this. One would feel as though he were again becoming
superstitious via a detour through science. But not all omens come true,
and you will understand from our theories that they need not all come
true.
FOURTH LECTURE
THE PSYCHOLOGY OF ERRORS--(_Conclusion_)
We may certainly put it down as the conclusion of our labors up to this
point that errors have a meaning, and we may make this conclusion the
basis of our further investigations. Let me stress the fact once more
that we do not assert--and for our purposes need not assert--that every
single mistake which occurs is meaningful, although I consider that
probable. It will suffice us if we prove the presence of such a meaning
with relative frequency in the various forms of errors. These various
forms, by the way, behave differently in this respect. In the cases of
tongue slips, pen slips, etc., the occurrences may take place on a
purely physiological basis. In the group based on forgetfulness
(forgetting names or projects, mislaying objects, etc.) I cannot believe
in such a basis. There does very probably exist a type of case in which
the loss of objects should be recognized as unintentional. Of the
mistakes which occur in daily life, only a certain portion can in any
way be brought within our conception. You must keep this limitation in
mind when we start henceforth from the assumption that mistakes are
psychic acts and arise through the mutual interference of two
intentions.
Herein we have the first result of psychoanalysis. Psychology hitherto
knew nothing of the occurrence of such interferences and the possibility
that they might have such manifestations as a consequence. We have
widened the province of the world of psychic phenomena quite
considerably, and have brought into the province of psychology phenomena
which formerly were not attributed to it.
Let us tarry a moment longer over the assertion that errors are psychic
acts. Does such an assertion contain more than the former declaration
that they have a meaning? I do not believe so. On the contrary, it is
rather more indefinite and open to greater misunderstanding. Everything
which can be observed about the psychic life will on occasion be
designated as a psychic phenomenon. But it will depend on whether the
specific psychic manifestations resulted directly from bodily, organic,
material influences, in which case their investigation will not fall
within the province of psychology, or whether it was more immediately
the result of other psychic occurrences back of which, somewhere, the
series of organic influences then begins. We have the latter condition
of affairs before us when we designate a phenomenon as a psychic
manifestation, and for that reason it is more expedient to put our
assertion in this form: the phenomena are meaningful; they have a
meaning. By "meaning" we understand significance, purpose, tendency and
position in a sequence of psychic relations.
There are a number of other occurrences which are very closely related
to errors, but which this particular name no longer fits. We call them
_accidental and symptomatic_ acts. They also have the appearance of
being unmotivated, the appearance of insignificance and unimportance,
but in addition, and more plainly, of superfluity. They are
differentiated from errors by the absence of another intention with
which they collide and by which they are disturbed. On the other side
they pass over without a definite boundary line into the gestures and
movements which we count among expressions of the emotions. Among these
accidental acts belong all those apparently playful, apparently
purposeless performances in connection with our clothing, parts of our
body, objects within reach, as well as the omission of such
performances, and the melodies which we hum to ourselves. I venture the
assertion that all these phenomena are meaningful and capable of
interpretation in the same way as are the errors, that they are small
manifestations of other more important psychic processes, valid psychic
acts. But I do not intend to linger over this new enlargement of the
province of psychic phenomena, but rather to return to the topic of
errors, in the consideration of which the important psychoanalytic
inquiries can be worked out with far greater clarity.
The most interesting questions which we formulated while considering
errors, and which we have not yet answered, are, I presume, the
following: We said that the errors are the result of the mutual
interference of two different intentions, of which the one can be called
the intention interfered with, and the other the interfering intention.
The intentions interfered with give rise to no further questions, but
concerning the others we want to know, firstly, what kind of intentions
are these which arise as disturbers of others, and secondly, in what
proportions are the interfering related to the interfered?
Will you permit me again to take the slip of the tongue as
representative of the whole species and allow me to answer the second
question before the first?
The interfering intention in the tongue slip may stand in a significant
relation to the intention interfered with, and then the former contains
a contradiction of the latter, correcting or supplementing it. Or, to
take a less intelligible and more interesting case, the interfering
intention has nothing to do with the intention interfered with.
Proofs for the first of the two relations we can find without trouble in
the examples which we already know and in others similar to those. In
almost all cases of tongue slips where one says the contrary of what he
intended, where the interfering intention expresses the antithesis of
the intention interfered with, the error is the presentation of the
conflict between two irreconcilable strivings. "I declare the meeting
opened, but would rather have it closed," is the meaning of the
president's slip. A political paper which has been accused of
corruptibility, defends itself in an article meant to reach a climax in
the words: "Our readers will testify that we have always interceded for
the good of all in the most _disinterested_ manner." But the editor who
had been entrusted with the composition of the defence, wrote, "in the
most _interested_ manner." That is, he thinks "To be sure, I have to
write this way, but I know better." A representative of the people who
urges that the Kaiser should be told the truth "_rueckhaltlos_," hears an
inner voice which is frightened by his boldness, and which through a
slip changes the "_rueckhaltlos_" into "_rueckgratlos_."[17]
In the examples familiar to you, which give the impression of
contraction and abbreviation, it is a question of a correction, an
addition or continuation by which the second tendency manifests itself
together with the first. "Things were revealed, but better say it right
out, they were _filthy_, therefore, things were _refiled_."[18] "The
people who understand this topic can be counted on the _fingers of one
hand_, but no, there is really only _one_ who understands it; therefore,
counted _on one finger_." Or, "My husband may eat and drink whatever
_he_ wants. But you know very well that _I_ don't permit him to want
anything; therefore he may eat and drink whatever _I want_." In all
these cases, therefore, the slip arises from the content of the
intention itself, or is connected with it.
The other type of relationship between the two interfering intentions
seems strange. If the interfering intention has nothing to do with the
content of the one interfered with, where then does it come from and how
does it happen to make itself manifest as interference just at that
point? The observation which alone can furnish an answer here,
recognizes the fact that the interference originates in a thought
process which has just previously occupied the person in question and
which then has that after-effect, irrespective of whether it has already
found expression in speech or not. It is therefore really to be
designated as perseveration, but not necessarily as the perseveration of
spoken words. Here also there is no lack of an associative connection
between the interfering and the interfered with, yet it is not given in
the content, but artificially restored, often by means of forced
connecting links.
Here is a simple example of this, which I myself observed. In our
beautiful Dolomites, I meet two Viennese ladies who are gotten up as
tourists. I accompany them a short distance and we discuss the
pleasures, but also the difficulties of the tourist's mode of life. One
lady admits this way of spending the day entails much discomfort. "It is
true," she says, "that it is not at all pleasant, when one has tramped
all day in the sun, and waist and shirt are soaked through." At this
point in this sentence she suddenly has to overcome a slight hesitancy.
Then she continues: "But then, when one gets _nach Hose_, and can
change...."[19] We did not analyze this slip, but I am sure you can
easily understand it. The lady wanted to make the enumeration more
complete and to say, "Waist, shirt and drawers." From motives of
propriety, the mention of the drawers (Hose) was suppressed, but in the
next sentence of quite independent content the unuttered word came to
light as a distortion of the similar word, house (Hause).
Now we can turn at last to the long delayed main question, namely, what
kind of intentions are these which get themselves expressed in an
unusual way as interferences of others, intentions within whose great
variety we wish nevertheless to find what is common to them all! If we
examine a series of them to this end, we will soon find that they divide
themselves into three groups. In the first group belong the cases in
which the interfering tendency is known to the speaker, and which,
moreover, was felt by him before the slip. Thus, in the case of the slip
"_refilled_," the speaker not only admits that he agreed with the
judgment "_filthy_," on the incidents in question, but also that he had
the intention (which he later abandoned) of giving it verbal expression.
A second group is made up of those cases in which the interfering
tendency is immediately recognized by the subject as his own, but in
which he is ignorant of the fact that the interfering tendency was
active in him just before the slip. He therefore accepts our
interpretation, yet remains to a certain extent surprised by it.
Examples of this situation can perhaps more easily be found among errors
other than slips of the tongue. In a third group the interpretation of
the interfering intention is energetically denied by the speaker. He not
only denies that the interfering tendency was active in him before the
slip, but he wants to assert that it was at all times completely alien
to him. Will you recall the example of "hiccough," and the absolutely
impolite disavowal which I received at the hands of this speaker by my
disclosure of the interfering intention. You know that so far we have no
unity in our conception of these cases. I pay no attention to the
toastmaster's disavowal and hold fast to my interpretation; while you, I
am sure, are yet under the influence of his repudiation and are
considering whether one ought not to forego the interpretation of such
slips, and let them pass as purely physiological acts, incapable of
further analysis. I can imagine what it is that frightens you off. My
interpretation draws the conclusion that intentions of which he himself
knows nothing may manifest themselves in a speaker, and that I can
deduce them from the circumstances. You hesitate before so novel a
conclusion and one so full of consequences. I understand that, and
sympathize with you to that extent. But let us make one thing clear: if
you want consistently to carry through the conception of errors which
you have derived from so many examples, you must decide to accept the
above conclusion, even though it be unpleasant. If you cannot do so, you
must give up that understanding of errors which you have so recently
won.
Let us tarry a while over the point which unites the three groups, which
is common to the three mechanisms of tongue slips. Fortunately, that is
unmistakable. In the first two groups the interfering tendency is
recognized by the speaker; in the first there is the additional fact
that it showed itself immediately before the slip. In both cases,
however, _it was suppressed. The speaker had made up his mind not to
convert the interfering tendency into speech and then the slip of the
tongue occurred; that is to say, the suppressed tendency obtains
expression against the speaker's will, in that it changes the expression
of the intention which he permits, mixes itself with it or actually puts
itself in its place._ This is, then, the mechanism of the tongue slip.
From my point of view, I can also best harmonize the processes of the
third group with the mechanism here described. I need only assume that
these three groups are differentiated by the different degrees of
effectiveness attending the suppression of an intention. In the first
group, the intention is present and makes itself perceptible before the
utterance of the speaker; not until then does it suffer the suppression
for which it indemnifies itself in the slip. In the second group the
suppression extends farther. The intention is no longer perceptible
before the subject speaks. It is remarkable that the interfering
intention is in no way deterred by this from taking part in the
causation of the slip. Through this fact, however, the explanation of
the procedure in the third group is simplified for us. I shall be so
bold as to assume that in the error a tendency can manifest itself which
has been suppressed for even a longer time, perhaps a very long time,
which does not become perceptible and which, therefore, cannot be
directly denied by the speaker. But leave the problem of the third
group; from the observation of the other cases, you most draw the
conclusion that _the suppression of the existing intention to say
something is the indispensable condition of the occurrence of a slip_.
We may now claim that we have made further progress in understanding
errors. We know not only that they are psychic acts, in which we can
recognize meaning and purpose, and that they arise through the mutual
interference of two different intentions, but, in addition, we know that
one of these intentions must have undergone a certain suppression in
order to be able to manifest itself through interference with the other.
The interfering intention must itself first be interfered with before it
can become interfering. Naturally, a complete explanation of the
phenomena which we call errors is not attained to by this. We
immediately see further questions arising, and suspect in general that
there will be more occasions for new questions as we progress further.
We might, for example, ask why the matter does not proceed much more
simply. If there is an existing purpose to suppress a certain tendency
instead of giving it expression, then this suppression should be so
successful that nothing at all of the latter comes to light; or it could
even fail, so that the suppressed tendency attains to full expression.
But errors are compromise formations. They mean some success and some
failure for each of the two purposes. The endangered intention is
neither completely suppressed nor does it, without regard to individual
cases, come through wholly intact. We can imagine that special
conditions must be existent for the occurrence of such interference or
compromise formations, but then we cannot even conjecture what sort they
may be. Nor do I believe that we can uncover these unknown circumstances
through further penetration into the study of errors. Rather will it be
necessary thoroughly to examine other obscure fields of psychic life.
Only the analogies which we there encounter can give us the courage to
draw those assumptions which are requisite to a more fundamental
elucidation of errors. And one thing more. Even working with small
signs, as we have constantly been in the habit of doing in this
province, brings its dangers with it. There is a mental disease,
combined paranoia, in which the utilization of such small signs is
practiced without restriction and I naturally would not wish to give it
as my opinion that these conclusions, built up on this basis, are
correct throughout. We can be protected from such dangers only by the
broad basis of our observations, by the repetition of similar
impressions from the most varied fields of psychic life.
We will therefore leave the analysis of errors here. But may I remind
you of one thing more: keep in mind, as a prototype, the manner in which
we have treated these phenomena. You can see from these examples what
the purposes of our psychology are. We do not wish merely to describe
the phenomena and to classify them, but to comprehend them as signs of a
play of forces in the psychic, as expressions of tendencies striving to
an end, tendencies which work together or against one another. We seek a
dynamic conception of psychic phenomena. The perceived phenomena must,
in our conception, give way to those strivings whose existence is only
assumed.
Hence we will not go deeper into the problem of errors, but we can still
undertake an expedition through the length of this field, in which we
will reencounter things familiar to us, and will come upon the tracks of
some that are new. In so doing we will keep to the division which we
made in the beginning of our study, of the three groups of tongue slips,
with the related forms of pen slips, misreadings, mishearings,
forgetfulness with its subdivisions according to the forgotten object
(proper names, foreign words, projects, impressions), and the other
faults of mistaking, mislaying and losing objects. Errors, in so far as
they come into our consideration, are grouped in part with
forgetfulness, in part with mistakes.
We have already spoken in such detail of tongue slips, and yet there are
still several points to be added. Linked with tongue slips are smaller
effective phenomena which are not entirely without interest. No one
likes to make a slip of the tongue; often one fails to hear his own
slip, though never that of another. Tongue slips are in a certain sense
infectious; it is not at all easy to discuss tongue slips without
falling into slips of the tongue oneself. The most trifling forms of
tongue slips are just the ones which have no particular illumination to
throw on the hidden psychic processes, but are nevertheless not
difficult to penetrate in their motivation. If, for example, anyone
pronounces a long vowel as a short, in consequence of an interference no
matter how motivated, he will for that reason soon after lengthen a
short vowel and commit a new slip in compensation for the earlier one.
The same thing occurs when one has pronounced a double vowel unclearly
and hastily; for example, an "eu" or an "oi" as "ei." The speaker tries
to correct it by changing a subsequent "ei" or "eu" to "oi." In this
conduct the determining factor seems to be a certain consideration for
the hearer, who is not to think that it is immaterial to the speaker how
he treats his mother tongue. The second, compensating distortion
actually has the purpose of making the hearer conscious of the first,
and of assuring him that it also did not escape the speaker. The most
frequent and most trifling cases of slips consist in the contractions
and foresoundings which show themselves in inconspicuous parts of
speech. One's tongue slips in a longer speech to such an extent that the
last word of the intended speech is said too soon. That gives the
impression of a certain impatience to be finished with the sentence and
gives proof in general of a certain resistance to communicating this
sentence or speech as a whole. Thus we come to borderline cases in which
the differences between the psychoanalytic and the common physiological
conception of tongue slips are blended. We assume that in these cases
there is a tendency which interferes with the intention of the speech.
But it can only announce that it is present, and not what its own
intention is. The interference which it occasions then follows some
sound influences or associative relationship, and may be considered as a
distraction of attention from the intended speech. But neither this
disturbance of attention nor the associative tendency which has been
activated, strikes the essence of the process. This hints, however, at
the existence of an intention which interferes with the purposed speech,
an intention whose nature cannot (as is possible in all the more
pronounced cases of tongue slips) this time be guessed from its effects.
Slips of the pen, to which I now turn, are in agreement with those of
the tongue to the extent that we need expect to gain no new points of
view from them. Perhaps we will be content with a small gleaning. Those
very common little slips of the pen--contractions, anticipations of
later words, particularly of the last words--again point to a general
distaste for writing, and to an impatience to be done; the pronounced
effects of pen slips permit the nature and purpose of the interfering
tendency to be recognized. One knows in general that if one finds a
slip of the pen in a letter everything was not as usual with the writer.
What was the matter one cannot always establish. The pen slip is
frequently as little noticed by the person who makes it as the tongue
slip. The following observation is striking: There are some persons who
have the habit of always rereading a letter they have written before
sending it. Others do not do so. But if the latter make an exception and
reread the letter, they always have the opportunity of finding and
correcting a conspicuous pen slip. How can that be explained? This looks
as if these persons knew that they had made a slip of the pen while
writing the letter. Shall we really believe that such is the case?