The Search for Bridey Murphy (32 page)

There has been much ado about the question of whether hypnotism treats only symptoms and not original motivations and basic organic causes, Several medical hypnotists, notably some well-known English specialists, have attacked this argument. They point out that when this therapeutic method is properly used the results are permanent and no new symptoms appear.

But even if we consider only symptom removal, should any apologies be necessary? Should a stutterer be left with his irksome speech difficulty on the theory that his problem really goes much deeper? Must a victim of hysterical paralysis be compelled to remain in that state, satisfied only with the argument that the symptom is really only the sign of a more deeply rooted personality conflict? Why argue? Why not just remove the painful symptom thus relieving the distress of the patient and rendering him, at the same time, fit for further therapy and progress?

Another way to regard this problem is to consider the plight of a man hanging from a window ledge. Upon encountering someone in this position, it would be preposterous to react by leaning out and quizzing the unfortunate fellow as to how he happens to be in such a situation—or to rush out for a psychoanalyst. No, first the poor man must be promptly pulled in.

The unfortunate fact about hypnotism is that the “dangers” have been dramatically overplayed, while the benefits have either been glossed over or entirely concealed. I have read scores of articles, the headlines of which glaringly proclaim the horrors of hypnotism. Boiled down, however, these commentaries usually constitute a simple statement: Hypnotism can effect amazing cures, but maybe it’s dangerous!

But just what are these dangers? We have already seen that the subject, far from being a helpless automaton, can break the trance whenever the suggestions are sufficiently adverse to his fundamental principles. Obviously, then, he is not nearly so much at the mercy of the operator as a person under an anesthetic.

Nobody would consider doing away with the science of medicine simply because there are each year a number of unfortunate results engendered by inaccurate diagnoses or improper treatment. Nor would anyone advocate the prohibition of surgery owing to the few cases in which lack of knowledge or skill aggravated, rather than improved, the condition of the patient. Quite the contrary. Indeed, we find a full measure of literature describing the progress, contributions, and miracles of modern medicine and surgery, just as these fields so decidedly merit. This printed material does not dwell upon and exaggerate the dangers; instead, it justifiably points up the benefits.

Now hypnotism deserves the same break. It is time that the “scare articles” taper off and be replaced by clear-cut exposition of the truth. This wonderful science of the mind has been too long buried under superstition, misunderstanding, and neglect. Within the next few decades we may at last, there is good reason to believe, see hypnotism take its rightful place as one of the most important sciences.

At this stage, then, a logical question appears: If hypnotism is entirely safe in the right hands, and if it has such an extensive application, why is it not more widely used? Some of the answers have already suggested themselves. Now let’s consider still other salient factors.

To get the proper perspective, let’s survey a segment of the historical outline. The first thing that strikes us in the story of modern hypnotism is its cyclical nature; it has bobbed up and down like a yo-yo. There has been a high point of interest roughly every thirty years, followed by a decline.
Time
magazine (March 30, 1953), in it’s usual pithy style, takes a broader look at these peaks and valleys:

During all these ups and downs of hypnosis bitter battles were incessantly being waged. Franz Anton Mesmer, the grandfather of modern hypnosis, published his discoveries regarding “animal magnetism”—
his name for what later was to be known as hypnosis—in 1779. As a result, he was ultimately forced out of Vienna and then out of Paris. John Elliotson, one of the most brilliant men in the history of medicine, was compelled to resign his position at London’s University College Hospital because he would not give up his interest in mesmerism.
The Lancet
, a British medical publication, summed up the feeling of Elliotson’s opposition in 1846 as follows:

“Does he himself [Elliotson] treat the harlotry, which he dares to call science, with any respect?”

A young Scottish surgeon practicing in India, James Esdaile, performed three hundred major and thousands of minor operations with patients under hypnosis. Yet he was criticized by the Calcutta Medical College; medical journals refused to print accounts of his findings, and the Medical Board never even so much as acknowledged his letter on the subject.

Lafontaine, a Swiss magnetizer (hypnotist) traveling in Italy, was ordered by King Ferdinand to leave Naples unless “he made no more blind people to see nor deaf ones to hear.” But Pope Pius IX was more enlightened; he commented, “Well, Monsieur Lafontaine, let us hope that, for the good of humanity, magnetism may soon be generally employed.”
¹
(Hypnotism was then known as magnetism.)

James Braid, who coined the word “hypnotism,” offered in 1842 to read a paper on the subject before the British Medical Association. His offer was rejected and his reports of cures termed ridiculous.

A French doctor, Liebault, who was obtaining excellent results with hypnosis, was attacked as a quack by Professor Bernheim. And when one of the latter’s patients was quickly cured by Liebault, it was too much for the professor! Bernheim went to investigate Liebault with the intention of exposing him once and for all. Instead, he was so astounded by what he learned that he himself promptly undertook the study of hypnosis.

In 1886 Bernheim published a book,
Suggestive Therapeutics
, and hypnosis reached the zenith of its glory. But now the scene was set for a man in Vienna who was to send it skidding downward once again. The man was Sigmund Freud.

In order to study hypnotism Freud visited Bernheim and Liebault at Nancy, France. Freud learned, as have all hypnotists, that not every patient can be hypnotized. He was aware, however, that there was one thing every patient could do—talk about himself: He reasoned that, via this “talking out” process, satisfactory therapeutic results
could be obtained, given plenty of time, without hypnosis. And so psychoanalysis was born.

There has never yet been a full-scale truce in the dispute involving hypnosis, and the dissension continues even today. And out of this hodgepodge of misunderstanding, acrimony, fear, charges, and countercharges, there has emerged a genuine problem of semantics: Hypnosis has become a distasteful name. Perhaps, therefore, if hypnosis is to be fully accepted, it must make its debut under a new name.

The very word “hypnosis” is a signal for a train of prejudices in the public mind—misconceptions, obsolete traditional beliefs, propaganda. There are some subjects about which we can never think clearly because we are blinded by the negative connotations called forth by certain words. In this case the mind is immediately influenced by pictures of the hocus-pocus variety: Svengali-Trilby; the ridiculous antics of stage performers; witchcraft and sorcery.

With these delusions infecting the public mind, should a doctor be blamed if he shuns any association with this word? He runs the risk of arousing suspicion and damaging his own practice. And can the fault be attributed entirely to the public if this word is genuinely misunderstood? The real problem is semantic and psychological; the old worn-out word should go!

A word like “tranceolcgy” (the science of the trance) would be somewhat more palatable. It goes down without regurgitating the old unsavory connotations.

So the name “hypnotism” itself embodies most of the objectionable elements. It is tied up with all the old taboos, a battle-scarred background, popular misconceptions, stage demonstrations, and with fear.

In this respect, the name is also related to objections put forth by some religious sects. Their opposition is understandable in view of the general impression that the hypnotist usurps the free will of the subject, that one mind completely dominates the mind of another. Far from depriving subjects of their free will, hypnosis can actually be instrumental in “giving back” a healthy power of will to those who have become so distressed, so burdened by worry, that they have lost the ability to exert their normal will.

Here again misconceptions need to be eradicated through re-education. And this new education would be much more easily ushered in behind a new name. Indeed, full enlightenment might even be impossible under the shade of the hoary scare word “hypnotism.”

As far as doctors and psychologists are concerned, there are two other obstacles in the way of their professional use of hypnosis. One concerns the fact that their medical qualifications, however imposing, have little bearing on their ability to become proficient hypnotists.
The qualities essential to a skilled hypnotherapist are somewhat different from those demanded of a good doctor. In short, an excellent doctor might turn out to be a poor hypnotist. This is, to be sure, a field for specialization.

The other factor is the possibility of embarrassment. Doctors and psychologists are, after all, human beings; as such they can hardly relish the possibility of failing to make a favorable impression during the first meeting with the patient. They well know the impact of the doctor-patient relationship. Until an easy, sure-fire technique is developed, the best professional therapists will be stopped cold in some cases. Understandably, a dignified doctor cannot be expected to welcome the prospect of assuring his patient, while inducing a trance, that he cannot possibly open his eyes—and then suddenly find himself looking into the patient’s wide-open eyes. This is a brand of embarrassment to which doctors and psychologists need not submit in their ordinary practice.

This objection, however, can be obviated to a considerable extent by avoiding all direct challenges and utilizing only positive, curative suggestions. Even so, a few patients will remain unimpressed by a light trance and may therefore lose interest. So, regardless of how this problem is approached, there is still a need for an unfailing, more effectual method of trance induction.

A further obstacle is exemplified by a personal experience. A man with a speech difficulty asked whether I would accept him as a subject. I explained that, in the first place, I was taking only those cases which were referred to me by doctors; and secondly, since I made no charges of any kind, I usually had more to do than I could manage. I suggested, however, that he see a medical hypnotist or psychologist, as he was soon to spend several months in a large city where professional therapists were available.

Almost a year later I encountered the same man, and I immediately observed that his old speech difficulty was still very much with him. “Did you ever see a medical hypnotist?” I asked.

“Well, no,” he admitted. “I telephoned my doctor and asked him what about this hypnotism business, and he answered in no uncertain terms, ‘Stay away from hypnotism. It’s dangerous! Besides, I don’t know anything about it!’ ”

Aside from the obvious fact that anyone with no knowledge has not the right to make the charge of “dangerous,” it is clear that the semantic problem pops up even in the professional field. Some medical men, including those who have never even witnessed hypnosis, will unhesitatingly condemn it. And since the very first act of a layman, before submitting to hypnotherapy, often is to ask his doctor’s advice on the
matter, the upshot sometimes takes this pattern: Both the doctor and the patient erroneously regard hypnotism as “dangerous”; the patient never submits to hypnotherapy; the patient retains his affliction. Fortunately, though, most medical men now recognize the merits of hypnosis.

In summing up the current status of hypnosis, these points tell the story:

There are numerous complaints for which hypnosis is the ideal treatment; and in an even greater number of conditions it is a powerful adjunct to ordinary medical methods.

Already the list of what hypnosis has actually accomplished is imposing in length and equally impressive in content. It must be admitted that it was long ago forgotten that this science was supposed to be confined to functional disorders; time and again it has been applied in the field of organic disease with extraordinary results.

What may finally be achieved by hypnosis once science has turned its full attention to it can only be surmised. Even now there are indications of its potentials—such as the fish-scale disease (ichthyosis) cure, cases of organic changes, and the electrifying possibilities of age-regression work. But if the nervous system actually has the faculty for “listening” to direct suggestion, then where are the boundaries of this science?

Despite wondrous attainments, hypnosis is still forced to fight for existence.

Just as soon as a quick, universal method of inducing a trance of impressive depth is developed and the most antagonistic, unyielding subject can be rapidly and decisively hypnotized, then hypnosis will automatically become a therapeutic instrument of paramount importance.