Book Review: Heart and Soul: The therapeutic face of philosophy

Philosophy offers powerful critiques of current psychological and therapeutic theories as well as providing its own insights into the human condition. But what is this 'thing' called philosophy? It is my contention that there are some important qualitative differences between 'knowing' philosophy and 'living' philosophically. Living a philosophical life is something that should be dynamically personal, as a way to be, rather than something objective and detached from the individual concerned. This is directly relevant to psychotherapists and the theory (philosophy) they espouse. Philosophy in this way goes further than the self-questioning generally talked about in therapeutic circles. This may sound very subjective, prescriptive, and posturing. However, this is in keeping with the personal nature of any philosophy worth talking about. I hope it is also relevant for a book whose title refers to the heart and soul of philosophy.

Heart and Soul is a hit and miss affair and this is understandable as it attempts a democratic account of therapeutic philosophy. I think that some of the sixteen essays do recognise the kind of philosophy outlined above and yet, ironically, the impression that this book left me with is that it needed more philosophy. Chris Mace does make the point that a philosophical collection of essays on therapy can take many forms. However, the form this collection takes omits essays on philosophical and therapeutic subjects that may well be more pertinent to the problems we face as therapists, than many of those it includes. The question of free will and responsibility, the self, personal identity, moral values, authenticity, the nature of change, issues of power, or that most fundamental of philosophical questions, the 'good life', are largely absent. Also absent are explorations of common therapeutic concepts such as transference, the unconscious, and non-judgemental attitudes: one is often left pondering on the nature of such a widely used therapeutic concept that the author seems to take for granted. If philosophy is about questioning then these essays fail too often to be philosophical enough.

So, what about the essays themselves? Subjects represented include Socratic dialogue, analytic logic, a fair smattering of psychoanalytic-related theory, existential philosophy and even Zen Buddhism. Wittgenstein is represented specifically in two essays, as is the growing area of narrative theory. Those particularly interested in existential therapy may well be disappointed with the overall tone of the book as it lies more outside than inside existential philosophy. Heidegger, Sartre, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Husserl, Merleau-Ponty, Jaspers, and others do not get the space they deserve in a book addressing this subject. This is surprising, as existentialism, more than any other philosophical approach, has had close ties with the therapeutic world. The one essay that deals explicitly with existentialism is by Emmy van Deurzen. The content may not come as a surprise to those interested in existential psychotherapy, although the way she presents her arguments result in one of the most lucid and succinct overviews of the existential therapeutic tradition that I have read.

Chris Mace's opening essay on Therapeutic Questioning and Socratic Dialogue is good at suggesting the potential power of a general philosophical questioning of the human condition. However, the book fails more often than not to live up to, and develop, the consequences of the classic Socratic slogan quoted at the beginning: 'Examining both myself and others is really the very best thing that a man can do... life without this sort of examination is not worth living.' (p. 15).

John M. Heaton's essay on a Wittgensteinian approach to scepticism and psychotherapy is a bold challenge to the attitudes of many therapeutic theories and their advocates. In fact many of the descriptions of what Heaton calls 'sceptical therapy' could also apply to, dare I say, the 'essence' of philosophy. Therefore, we need more 'attentiveness in acting, speaking, listening and reading' (p. 50), more 'wonder', more 'reflection, quietening doubts and questioning' (p. 62) and less sitting in one's study learning theories and how to apply them' (p. 63). These characteristics describe a philosophical way to make sense of one's existence as well as embodying values that could be part of living a more 'authentic' life. This 'way' is perhaps the very 'ground' from which our theories should grow. The sorts of values we find here are perhaps akin to many ideas found in existential and phenomenological philosophy.

Joady Brennan's article Wittgenstein and personal construct theory has a similar 'flavour' to Heaton's, although Brennan is more interested in the specific area of the importance of language. However, there are problems with a concentration on the power of language without an acknowledgement of what people are expressing about themselves in the language they use; the meaning of language obviously goes beyond the meaning of particular words and sentences. We still need to ask what meaning and significance do certain sentences have for the existing individual who utters them? What is at stake for that individual in their words? What values underlie the meaning of words? Who is this individual who speaks? Brennan's argument does open up the need to pay close attention to, and respect for, the individual's use of language, although the question of where we go from here still remains open.

Leaping beyond theory by Joan Hurd is a stimulating and thought-provoking attempt to look at the nature of significant change in the therapeutic encounter. Referring to Kierkegaard, Heidegger, and others, she questions the limits of, and reliance upon, therapeutic theory; there are great difficulties in putting into words some crucial aspects of therapy. We may view existential interpretations such as courage, commitment, values, anxiety, uncertainty, and responsibility, as ways of understanding the significant change that takes place for an individual, as such a profound change implies a momentous shift in attitude towards one's existence.

The connection between existentialism and Zen Buddhism has often been talked about. I like the flavour of some Buddhist writing and therefore was disappointed by Myra Thomas' essay, Seventeen syllables for the self, as it had too little on the paradoxes and the subjective elements of 'enlightenment'. It was far too rigid, and too objective, in the search for what 'enlightenment' may be. A point made particularly evident through the use of the poetic 'haiku', which did not delve enough into the nature of the failed haiku from the 'unenlightened' students at the workshop taken by the Buddhist 'master'. It therefore seemed a world away from a more questioning, humble, and existentially oriented reading of Buddhism (for example, Stephen Batchelor's Alone with Others and Buddhism without Beliefs).

A thoughtful critique of this book should itself be philosophical in nature. By asking important questions of the ideas contained within it, any 'answers' we come to may well imply another theoretical and philosophical view of human existence. From this new viewpoint we may become clearer about the nature of therapy and the really important issues involved that may inform our practise in a new and profound way. It is my belief (and of course only my reading) that these answers point towards a particular form of existentialism.

It is dangerous to separate the practise and theory of psychotherapy from philosophy, in a way that is too simple or clear and my criticisms of this book may be due to much of it making such a mistake. Chris Mace ends his conclusion by rightly espousing the virtues of philosophy's 'methods and spirit.' However, what Mace means by this needs careful examination: '...the capacity to suspend judgement and to analyse at will, while valuing diversity throughout' (p. 277). I would suggest that philosophy's 'spirit' include scrutinising our judgements and leaving them open to question, not by suspending them. It is also non-sense to value diversity throughout, for if 'anything goes' we end up lost without values that we need to give ourselves direction.

In terms of the subject matter of this book I feel that we should perhaps try to be more philosophical about our therapy in the way we question it, while at the same time concentrating on developing our philosophy as therapeutically as possible in terms of how it can help us all live 'better' lives. Just what these two prescriptions actually mean is part of the philosophical adventure that includes action as well as contemplation.

Philosophy can be seen as a tool, as a way to enquire about life. Perhaps more importantly philosophy can become less an area of knowledge (as seems to be the case generally in academia) and more a way of life, a way to be. If we are the sorts of people who can develop a way of thinking, existing, living, that perhaps manifests the real flavour, or essence, of philosophy, we will find that our theories are not cast in stone. The conflict between the spectre of doubt and uncertainty, and the need to work from passionately held values and beliefs, raises its head here. This book fails to address these sorts of issues often or thoroughly enough. However, negotiating such a hazardous path is probably a price worth paying for being honest and conscientious practitioners of the weird and wonderful art of psychotherapy.

John Pollard