David O’Driscoll thinks we can learn much from taking a cup of tea with a renowned psychoanalyst whose approaches, set out in this accessible new study, could support people with learning disabilities.
Tea with Winnicott
by Brett Kahr (with illustrations by Alison Bechdel)
Published by Karnac Books 2016
ISBN: 9781782203421
Donald Winnicott is not so widely known in intellectual disability circles but in the world of psychotherapy he is a hugely significant figure. He was born in Plymouth in 1896 and died in 1971, working all his life in London. He trained in the field of child mental health and was later to become known as a pediatrician. After becoming interested in the work of Sigmund Freud, he went on to train as a psychoanalyst.
In this account, Kahr imagines conversations with Winnicott over a ‘cup of tea’; in fact, ‘ten cups of tea’. This method gives a clear, easy to read outline of his many theories in the context of mental services of the period. Winnicott was keen to bring psychoanalytic ideas to wider audiences. As Kahr notes: “You always advocated sharing knowledge with the widest possible number of people, and you readily supported the fledging psychotherapy movement in Great Britain whereby many of your (psychoanalytic) colleagues regarded the psychotherapists as a threat”. (p. 32). He did this in a number of ways, from an advice show on BBC Radio to giving talks to the widest range of audiences.
This is one of the many reasons why Winnicott is of value and interest to those in the field of learning disability. In the period he was working, there was little psychological interest in this group; as we know they were socially excluded. The psychological ‘help’ for people in the institution was of limited value, very behavioural-orientated with a punishment and reward approach. The real shame is that outside the institution there was some extraordinary thinking in the field of British psychoanalysis, particularly in the post Second World War period. Here, Winnicott was a key figure.
For example, Winnicott was highly critical of the psychiatric approach to psychosis: “They meet a patient for five minutes… three minutes even …and they know that this person has a broken brain, that one needs ECT, and so forth. There is no curiosity about patients’ history” (p. 75). While ECT is thankfully not an option today, it has been replaced by medication for many of today’s psychiatrists. This lack of curiosity about patients’ history in my experience still stands once they have a learning disability diagnosis.
Winnicott’s main expertise was in the crucial relationship the mother has with the baby. He observed children with their parents with meticulous attention at his two popular clinics – in Paddington and Hackney in London. A key contribution was his thinking on ‘hate’. Winnicott wrote a famous paper on this which focuses on the burdensome, difficult work of supporting people and how this can bring up difficult feelings, sometimes troubling, stronger, negative feelings. Winnicott discusses how we need to contain our hatred, rather then act it out. Winnicott’s most well-known concept was ‘transitional objects’. He noticed parents often gave babies something to cuddle to help them sleep or during their absence. The object is important for soothing, helping sleep and as a defence against anxiety.
However, Winnicott felt there was more meaning in it than just as a calming object. The transitional object is not given up but slowly relegated to the margins; it becomes less important, it has done its job and hopefully at such time the children will have started to develop a sense of self. These objects can reappear in our lives, maybe when we are dealing with loss or when we are stressed. I have been told that emergency services have soft toys in their vehicles, not just for children. In my work supporting people with learning disability with their grief, I often have such an object linked to the deceased person to help the bereaved individual process their loss.
This book is a wonderful introduction to the work of Donald Winnicott, and as a trained psychoanalytic psychotherapist, I found it helpful to have a guide along the way. I have read several such books and this is the one I would choose. I hope this can help communicate some of the developing interest in psychoanalytic understanding to the current generation of learning disability professionals.
David O’Driscoll is Visiting Research Fellow at Hertfordshire Partnership University.
Tea with Winnicott
by Brett Kahr (with illustrations by Alison Bechdel)
Published by Karnac Books 2016
ISBN: 9781782203421
Donald Winnicott is not so widely known in intellectual disability circles but in the world of psychotherapy he is a hugely significant figure. He was born in Plymouth in 1896 and died in 1971, working all his life in London. He trained in the field of child mental health and was later to become known as a pediatrician. After becoming interested in the work of Sigmund Freud, he went on to train as a psychoanalyst.
In this account, Kahr imagines conversations with Winnicott over a ‘cup of tea’; in fact, ‘ten cups of tea’. This method gives a clear, easy to read outline of his many theories in the context of mental services of the period. Winnicott was keen to bring psychoanalytic ideas to wider audiences. As Kahr notes: “You always advocated sharing knowledge with the widest possible number of people, and you readily supported the fledging psychotherapy movement in Great Britain whereby many of your (psychoanalytic) colleagues regarded the psychotherapists as a threat”. (p. 32). He did this in a number of ways, from an advice show on BBC Radio to giving talks to the widest range of audiences.
This is one of the many reasons why Winnicott is of value and interest to those in the field of learning disability. In the period he was working, there was little psychological interest in this group; as we know they were socially excluded. The psychological ‘help’ for people in the institution was of limited value, very behavioural-orientated with a punishment and reward approach. The real shame is that outside the institution there was some extraordinary thinking in the field of British psychoanalysis, particularly in the post Second World War period. Here, Winnicott was a key figure.
For example, Winnicott was highly critical of the psychiatric approach to psychosis: “They meet a patient for five minutes… three minutes even …and they know that this person has a broken brain, that one needs ECT, and so forth. There is no curiosity about patients’ history” (p. 75). While ECT is thankfully not an option today, it has been replaced by medication for many of today’s psychiatrists. This lack of curiosity about patients’ history in my experience still stands once they have a learning disability diagnosis.
Winnicott’s main expertise was in the crucial relationship the mother has with the baby. He observed children with their parents with meticulous attention at his two popular clinics – in Paddington and Hackney in London. A key contribution was his thinking on ‘hate’. Winnicott wrote a famous paper on this which focuses on the burdensome, difficult work of supporting people and how this can bring up difficult feelings, sometimes troubling, stronger, negative feelings. Winnicott discusses how we need to contain our hatred, rather then act it out. Winnicott’s most well-known concept was ‘transitional objects’. He noticed parents often gave babies something to cuddle to help them sleep or during their absence. The object is important for soothing, helping sleep and as a defence against anxiety.
However, Winnicott felt there was more meaning in it than just as a calming object. The transitional object is not given up but slowly relegated to the margins; it becomes less important, it has done its job and hopefully at such time the children will have started to develop a sense of self. These objects can reappear in our lives, maybe when we are dealing with loss or when we are stressed. I have been told that emergency services have soft toys in their vehicles, not just for children. In my work supporting people with learning disability with their grief, I often have such an object linked to the deceased person to help the bereaved individual process their loss.
This book is a wonderful introduction to the work of Donald Winnicott, and as a trained psychoanalytic psychotherapist, I found it helpful to have a guide along the way. I have read several such books and this is the one I would choose. I hope this can help communicate some of the developing interest in psychoanalytic understanding to the current generation of learning disability professionals.
David O’Driscoll is Visiting Research Fellow at Hertfordshire Partnership University.
