Freud’s statement Wo Es war, soll Ich werden, was translated by Strachey as “Where Id was, there Ego shall be.” A more accurate translation of das Es and das Ich would be Where it was, there I shall be (be becoming). Not only does this translation feel more human, but it also conveys a sense of “it-ness” and “not-me-ness” of the psyche. Ogden (2021) notes that this famous thought from Freud creates “the foundation for an ontological conception of psychic change, a process in which our it-ness, our not-me-ness, evolves into I-ness, an experience of becoming more I, becoming more oneself” (p. 225).
This focus on being or becoming is central to what Ogden (2019) calls ontological psychoanalysis. This is distinct from epistemological psychoanalysis, which centers on knowing and understanding. Ogden’s ontological approach invites us to rediscover psychoanalysis as alive, creative, personal, and intersubjective, with a goal of the patient coming more fully into their self. He notes that in epistemological psychoanalysis, the analyst’s primary role is to impart understanding to the patient, presenting as an expert and declarative figure. In contrast, ontological psychoanalysis involves the analyst waiting patiently, allowing the patient to “arrive at understanding creatively and with immense joy” (Winnicott, 1969, p. 86). The focus is not on the knowledge attained by both analyst and patient; rather, it lies in “the patient’s experience of ‘arriv[ing] at understanding creatively and with immense joy,’ an experience in which the patient is engaged not predominantly in searching for self-understanding, but in experiencing the process of becoming more fully himself” (Ogden, 2019, p. 665). Here, mind is not a noun, a static entity that does a thing or does not do a thing. Rather, mind is a verb, a dynamic and evolving process which necessarily requires another mind to think and develop. This shift in emphasis, aligned with the work of Winnicott and Bion, represents an important distinction in psychoanalysis.
In the above paper, to elaborate what ontological psychoanalysis may look like, Ogden presents five brief clinical vignettes. In each instance, he engages with the patient in a way that is unique to that specific analytic dyad, session, and moment. However, these examples do not provide a clear technique that could be seen as indicative of ontological psychoanalysis; this is not the essence of the approach. Attempting to replicate one of Ogden’s interventions in a similar clinical moment would be ineffective, as it would lack the authenticity and vitality inherent in his examples.
Ogden does not prescribe a specific analytic technique; instead, he values analytic style, which he defines as “a living process that has its origins in the personality and experience of the analyst” (Ogden, 2009, p. 70). This style is unique to each therapist’s personality, utilizing their entire being—clinical and personal experiences alike. While it draws upon theory and technique, it emphasizes mastering these elements to the extent that they can be set aside, allowing the therapist to engage with each patient anew (Ogden, 2009). Ogden often notes that if one patient were to observe him in session with another, they would not recognize him as they know him. Analytic style is a broad concept, so what are the various components that shape Ogden’s understanding of it? His writing reveals recurring themes that inform his voice, including the importance of truth in psychoanalysis, the value of the patient and therapist thinking aloud together, talking-as-dreaming, the necessity of reinventing psychoanalysis for each individual, and the role of intuition.
In therapy, the therapist and patient collaborate to articulate what is true about the patient’s “conscious and unconscious emotional experience occurring in the analytic relationship at a given moment” (Ogden, 2004, p. 858). Therapists do not create truths for their patients; rather, they may come to understand their patients on a level that enables them to observe truths that exist independently of the therapist. Within the analytic frame, the therapist remains attuned to their own experiences, the patient’s experiences, and the co-created analytic third (Ogden, 1994), working to identify what appears to be true. Speaking of what is true offers something for the patient’s use, unobtrusively. However, therapists can foreclose such opportunities if they fill the analytic space with their own needs and desires—whether to feel clever, important, or to act out of anxiety. Ogden frequently addresses how words are inexact and often fail to fully express what it means to be human. Nevertheless, psychoanalysis exists within a linguistic space, striving to think, feel, and express through language. Therapists grapple with the challenge of conveying emotional experiences within this imperfect and finite system. Ogden not only acknowledges this tension but communicates it experientially through the richness and complexity of his writing. The result can evoke a maddening sense of confusion, yet much like reading Bion, it provides the reader with a subjective experience of the conveyed ideas. They are confounding, reflecting the complexities of psychoanalysis and the human experience.
Thinking out loud is a form of dreaming. The patient’s dreaming manifests as free association, while the therapist’s dreaming occurs in reverie. At their core, these processes are similar; the distinction lies in the roles within the therapeutic relationship. The patient is invited to share whatever comes to mind, with their reverie generating the material they discuss. In contrast, the therapist’s communication is also informed by their own reverie, but they do not simply express whatever arises. Instead, they selectively interpret their intersubjectively informed reveries to provide insights that may be useful for the patient’s psychological work. As Ogden (1997) states, “we must in our attempt in our use of language … be makers of music, rather than players of notes” (p. 4-5). Similar to music, “a word or sentence is not a still point of meaning and will not sound the same or mean the same thing a moment later” (p. 5). This form of communication is spontaneous and improvisational, rooted in the analyst’s attention to their reveries, countertransference, transference, and the dynamics of the analytic third. Ogden emphasizes the importance of maintaining a thoughtful approach when intervening in this manner, noting that “it requires a great deal of training and experience to be able to talk in a way that feels and sounds spontaneous, unpracticed, uncontrived, undictated by analytic convention or prescription” (1997, p. 11).
When speaking with patients, Ogden is focused less on what he says to patients and more on how he speaks to patients. He places an emphasis on avoiding language which leads patients or pulls them toward secondary process thinking, especially when primary process is what is indicated. He welcomes misunderstandings, believing they foster conjecture, possibility, and humility—qualities essential for confronting the complexities of the human condition and its unknowable truths. Ogden is wary of certainty from the analyst, viewing it as a barrier to the patient’s potential for growth. Most significantly, Ogden leans away from explaining what is happening during the analytic process, since the analyst cannot know with any certainty, and favors describing what is happening. Describing, rather than explaining, frees both patient and analyst from the need to understand or know, which may more powerfully and accurately lead a patient toward truth. It is within the areas of not knowing, confusion, fluidity, and shifting meanings that truth emerges.
The significance of Bion’s Notes on Memory and Desire, which Ogden describes as “an impossibly difficult paper” (Ogden, 2015, p. 285), is evident in the value Ogden places on intuition. This brief paper, spanning only two and a half pages, is often cited but frequently misunderstood, much like several of Bion’s works. However, Ogden argues that the paper is less about memory or desire and more about intuitive thinking and its application in the analytic setting. He emphasizes the importance of acknowledging unknowable, unconscious thought. According to Ogden, genuine analytic work should be attuned to the patient’s immediate experience, serving as a pathway to the unconscious, rather than rigidly adhering to established theories or techniques. The focus should be on the unconscious experiences unfolding within the patient’s psychic reality, which can often be surprising in its novelty.
For Ogden, unconscious psychic reality embodies the truth that psychoanalysis seeks to uncover and address. Memory and desire obstruct this truth, as they are tied to past events rather than what is occurring in the present. What has happened is not immediately relevant; it is static and dead. While it can inform the current experience, it is only useful when approached intuitively and unconsciously. Therapists may become overly reliant on theory and learned techniques, leading to a prescriptive and forced application, often to alleviate their own anxiety about not knowing. Being present with the patient necessitates letting go of preconceived notions of what should occur. Intuitive intervention—free from memory and desire—still requires therapists to be studious, well-read, and engaged in their own therapy, seeking consultation and supervision. Therapists aim to internalize theory, technique, and the patient’s history proprioceptively, allowing them to focus their attention on the immediacy of the patient’s experience.
These ideas, regarding truth, intuition, thinking aloud, talking-as-dreaming, and rediscovering psychoanalysis anew with each patient, shape and influence how Ogden engages with patients. They represent only a few, brief thoughts on themes seen throughout Ogden’s writing which shape and inform his analytic style. It is an analytic style with an ontological goal, which, calling upon the work of Winnicott and Bion, identifies that
the most fundamental human need is that of being and becoming more fully oneself, which to my mind, involves becoming more fully present and alive to one’s thoughts, feelings, and bodily states; becoming better able to sense one’s own unique creative potentials and finding forms in which to develop them; feeling that one is speaking one’s own ideas with a voice of one’s own; becoming a larger person (perhaps more generous, more compassionate, more loving, more open) in one’s relationships with others; developing more fully a humane and just value system and set of ethical standards; and so on. (Ogden, 2019, p. 673-674).
I have presented several technical components of Ogden’s approach to psychoanalysis. Most important to my understanding of his approach, is a profound sense of soul which pervades Thomas Ogden’s work, marked by curiosity, compassion, humility, and a commitment to growth and introspection. He avoids idolizing psychoanalysis, using it instead as a vital tool to explore intersubjective experiences, and is just as likely to call upon great works of literature to express himself as he is to call upon psychoanalytic theorists. Ogden’s unique voice—clean, warm, and elegant—reminds readers that true engagement with literature and analysis must evoke a sense of humanity. He asserts, “if we cannot sense something human, however faint, in the experience of reading an analytic paper, a poem, an essay, or a novel, then we come away empty-handed” (Ogden, 1997a, p. 6). His writing is not only beautifully crafted and clinically significant but also deeply humane, reflecting his love and respect for the complexity of the human mind as we come into being.
References
Gougoulis, N. & Driffield, K. (2021). An interview with Thomas Ogden. International Forum of Psychoanalysis, 30(4), 223-233.
Ogden, T. H. (1994). The Analytic Third: Working with Intersubjective Clinical Facts. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 75, 3-19.
Ogden, T.H. (1997a). Reverie and Interpretation. Lanham: A Jason Aronson Book.
Ogden, T. H. (1997b). Reverie and Interpretation. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 66, 567-595.
Ogden, T. H. (2004). This art of psychoanalysis: Dreaming undreamt dreams and interrupted cries. International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 85, 857-877.
Ogden, T. H. (2009). Rediscovering Psychoanalysis. Psychoanalytic Perspectives, 6, 22-31.
Ogden, T. H. (2015). Intuiting the Truth of What’s Happening: On Bion’s “Notes on Memory and Desire”. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 84, 285-306.
Ogden, T. H. (2019) Ontological Psychoanalysis or “What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?”. Psychoanalytic Quarterly, 88, 661-684.
Winnicott, D.W.W. (1969). The use of an object and relating through identifications. In Playing and Reality. New York: Basic Books, pp. 86-94.
