Intuition in Psychiatric Practice

Another question from a visitor:

Evidence-Based Medicine: Do you find that intuition has its place in practice of clinical psychiatry? Despite years of positive experience with a certain technique or medicine, would you decide against it if the only study done on it finds it harmful or useless? If not, how do you go about qualifying your sense of intuition and personal experience?

Good question. I think the crucial point here is "what constitutes evidence?"

Years of positive personal experience with something is itself a strong type of evidence. A negative study is another type of evidence. In all logical assessments of treatments, we must weigh the positive evidence against the negative.

If there was such a strong negative study, particularly if it was done with scientific and statistical rigour, it should lead to a critical re-appraisal of one's own practice, to examine reasons why one's own experience was so different from what another study shows. We should always be prepared to change our ways if strong evidence challenges the status quo.

I don't think "intuition" need be placed in opposition to "logic" or "evidence." I like to think that healthy intuition is a way to incorporate logic and evidence in a way which is flexible and open-minded, and which allows room for creativity.

In clinical practice, a manifestation of "intuition" may at times be a product of a great deal of experience or mastery in something (with the acquisition of "formal operations" in one's area of specialty, in a Piagetian sense), such that pattern recognition and responses can happen very quickly. We can see this in chess players, musicians, auto mechanics...any type of acquired expertise. Things appear to happen effortlessly, seemingly without a thought--certainly without the laborious calculations or stilted rumination which a beginner might apply to the task. These "formal operations" though, represent a great efficiency of weighing evidence and decision-making, not an absence of reason. Those who reject formal evidence in favour of their supposed "intuition" are in a different camp. This would be like the chess player or musician who does not pay attention to his or her weaknesses of technique, or like the auto mechanic who doesn't bother to check the oil. I consider this practice to be inefficient and potentially quite dangerous. There are studies which show that "intuitive" diagnostic impressions in psychiatry are often inaccurate (I'll have to find some references); yet I return to my claim that intuition can be a manifestation of our ability to process information quickly, efficiently, even subconsciously, and often with a natural grace and ease which can be a joy of life to practice or witness.

But intuition cannot be used recklessly or with disregard for other types of evidence.

Conversely, over-reliance on non-intuitive evidence can also be stilted and inefficient. The musician who has note-perfect technique, without grace, is uninteresting. A physician who goes through a symptom checklist meticulously, but fails to attend to alarming non-verbal cues, may entirely miss the underlying problem--a problem which is not detectable by a checklist, because checklist data may not be valid or relevant in cases where process is not attended to.

Metaphors

Here's another question from a visitor:

You note that you like using metaphors in psychotherapy. Can you elaborate more on the use of metaphor. I personally find that using metaphors can have its downside. Some metaphors, once useful--or helpful to those who never heard of them--can become quite trite and cliché. They may even take on negative connotations if associated with unpleasant memory or a disagreeable person from the client's past.

To some degree it is a personal indulgence on my part to attempt to use metaphors. I think you're quite right that this could be unhelpful or annoying to others, and at the very least trite or cliché. I would need to keep this tendency of mine healthily reigned in when necessary. It is, however, very characteristic of me, and a pleasure of mine, to seek out a new metaphor, and therefore an aspect of genuineness that I would attempt to share with patients at times.

Theoretically, it has been part of a larger world-view of mine, that a great deal of wisdom is couched in metaphorical language, yet this language is often taken literally by dogmatic adherents. The dogmatism intensely suppresses the wisdom. This happens frequently in religion, politics, and even in science and medicine. Joseph Campbell was one of my influences: I think he had a great balance of wisdom, humour, and story-telling ability--these are qualities of a good physician, thinker, or healer. Campbell himself was influenced by psychoanalytic thinkers such as Freud, and particularly Jung, but in my opinion his writing never had the annoyingly dogmatic and preachy tone characteristic of these psychoanalysts. Yet, Campbell's ideas are intellectually limited, and I think one should be wary of going too far with them (I find many styles of therapy which are overtly about "exploring myths", etc. to be tiresome, ignorant of modern scientific evidence, and overburdened with jargon). But I liked Joseph Campbell's style, and maybe this is one of the reasons I like "indulging in metaphor" at times as part of my work.

Psychologists Prescribing Antidepressants?

Here's another question from a visitor:

Your views on psychologists' obtaining the right to administer antidepressant.

I don't have any problem with this. If psychologists, or anyone else, were to have prescribing privileges, I do think there should be an educational program with a licensing exam, with continuing education requirements for maintaining licensure, etc., to ensure that the prescribers are up-to-date and knowledgable about the medications and risks, etc. At that point, it could be up to an informed patient to decide whether to trust and accept a prescription from a psychologist. As far as I'm concerned, this is a fair balance between regulation and individual rights in a freedom-oriented society.

I think some psychiatrists' opposition to psychologist prescribing has a lot to do with wanting to hold on to more influence, authority, power, or perhaps a greater sense of importance or exclusivity. There may be elements of narcissism and insecurity which underlie this position. It reminds me of the history of modern medical opposition to midwifery.

While many patients need complicated regimes of medication, may have complex comorbid medical problems, and may therefore require a highly specialized expert in psychopharmacology to prescribe for them (actually, the level of expertise in this area among psychiatrists is very inconsistent), the majority of patients who might benefit from antidepressants require a very simple regimen. Such a regimen does not require many years of advanced education to competently administer. It seems a waste of time and health-care expense for those individuals to have to seek out an MD for their prescriptions.

Furthermore, many antidepressant prescriptions are currently written by a gp who may have only seen the patient for a few minutes--if psychologists were prescribing, this would most likely be in the context of knowing the patient very well, with hour-long appointments, and offering very good follow-up care.

There are risks associated with prescription antidepressants, and there are bound to be patients who run into problems after being prescribed antidepressants from a psychologist. But I am doubtful that these risks would be higher than if antidepressants were only available from an MD, particularly if prescribing privileges required passing a licensing exam, etc.

Future of personalized antidepressants

Another question from a visitor:

Advances in psychiatrist medications: Holsboer has recently elaborated on the future of personalized antidepressants designed using genotype and biomarkers. Where do you think psychiatry is headed, in terms of ideology, but also medications and treatments?

Here's the reference:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/18628772

It's an interesting and important subject. In current practice, it can be hard to find medications or other types of therapy which are helpful. It would relieve a great deal of suffering much more quickly to have some way of determining, in advance, which particular treatment for psychiatric illnesses might help best.

Also, the article emphasizes the need to search for treatments outside of the current pharmacological paradigms; we probably have enough medication choices affecting serotonin uptake, etc. It will probably be important to search for pharmacological treatments which affect other systems in the brain.

I don't feel very well-informed about the cutting edge of this science (translating genetic research into pharmacological treatments), but I can see this being a huge advance in the coming decades.

Are Psychiatrists Professionals, Friends, or Healers?

Another question from a visitor:

Are psychiatrists professionals, friends, or healers? I personally believe that healing occurs in a time and place beyond professional rules and regulations. Even friendships can be healing. I wonder if professionalization of medicine is antithetical to a healing process that is dependent on...deep human connection.

This is a good question, one I've often thought about.

The standard of practice in psychiatry, and in other areas of medicine, is for the therapeutic relationship to be "well-boundaried." Mind you, this seems like an obvious truth; furthermore, any healthy friendship also needs to be "well-boundaried." Many unhealthy friendships or family dynamics are problematic due to unhealthy or absent boundaries. But in psychiatry, there are formal legal and professionally-mandated restrictions around the type of relationships permitted between therapist and patient, or between therapists and former patients. In general, I would say the rule is that any interaction between psychiatrist and patient (or between psychiatrist and former patient) needs to be considered a "therapeutic action," or at least an attempt to be a "therapeutic action," and if this interaction cannot be justified as such, it would be considered outside a healthy boundary. These rules protect patients from unethical practioners.

But I do consider any type of healthy human interaction to be a manifestation of a type of friendship. And I consider it a healthy way to live, to consider that all of one's interactions in the world are "friendship-building" activities. To experience the very personal relationship of psychotherapy as strictly bereft of "friendship" seems wrong to me.

Different individuals will have different needs or wishes in this regard. For many people, they prefer to interact with a psychiatrist or other professional in a polite but formal and distant way. Many people would not want to have a friendship with their psychiatrist or physician.

For many others, closeness and trust in a therapy relationship is extremely important to nurture.

One thing I strongly feel to be true is that the therapy relationship needs to be a setting in which growth of healthy relationships outside of the therapy relationship can be encouraged.

I am reminded of some of the psychiatric theory from the previous century about "object relations." This theory generally considers that relationships become "internalized" as abstract mental models, during the course of development. Relationships with parents during early childhood become the first internalized models. Recent evidence establishes that early peer relationships are extremely important in psychological development, perhaps having an equal or larger effect than parental relationships in many cases. Included in these internalized relationships are a sense of "other," a sense of "self," and a sense of expected dynamics between "self" and "other." Future relationships then develop which tend to be in synchrony, or in a type of resonance, with the internalized models. If these internalized models are disturbed by unhealthy relationships, absent or neglectful caregivers, abuse, environmental adversity, or inherent neuropsychiatric symptoms (such as innate tendencies to be anxious, irritable, depressed, etc.), then future relationships are likely also to be disturbed. This leads to a vicious cycle of unhealthy relationships and escalating symptoms.

In a therapeutic relationship, I think this "object relations" idea is important. The therapeutic relationship should aim to be one in which previous vicious cycles are not allowed to repeat. Over time, if the therapeutic relationship is healthy, it could perhaps become "internalized" as well, hopefully as a model of comfort, stability, nurturance, respect, trust, and healthy boundaries. In this way, I think the role of therapist is a bit more like the role of a parent, in that there is an element of friendship, a strong expectation of nurturance, a benevolent "paternalism" to some degree (some desire this element more or less than others), but also the observation that the "parent" becomes less and less necessary for meeting personal needs as the relationship develops over time.

There can sometimes be experiences of very great personal need. The experience of therapy can partially meet this need. The boundaries of the therapy can feel tremendously frustrating for a patient if this need is only partially met. Yet I feel that part of the growth experience in therapy can be to come to terms with this frustration, i.e. that the therapist is a positive, caring figure, but also that the therapist is limited and unable to meet any need completely or perfectly. If the therapy is to be truly effective or "healing," then the more complete or "perfect" satisfaction of needs eventually could occur outside of the therapy, during daily life.

Here's a light-hearted poem about this theme. It's by Hal Sirowitz, from the collection My Therapist Said.

BETTER THAN A FRIEND
You shouldn't tell everyone that you're
in therapy, my therapist said. Some people
might think you're crazy. If
someone asks why you go to the city
at the same time each week, you should
just tell him that you have an appointment
with a friend, which is not really a lie,
because I'm your friend. But I'm also
so much more. You can insult me, & I'll
never get mad. I'll just say that you're
transferring again. I'll never leave you,
but you can leave me. One day you'll
tell me that you don't need to see me anymore,
& instead of being mad, I'll be happy,
because that'll mean you're cured. But
I wouldn't advise you to do that
in the near future. You still have problems.

* I like this poem but it's okay with me if you tell people you're in therapy!
**Thank you to the reader who found the author's name & info for me.