I’ve begun reading a book published in ’05 titled Abducted – How People Come To Believe They Were Kidnapped By Aliens by Susan A. Clancy.
As does occasionally happen, a single text can generate a large number of ideas in me, most related to therapy practice though the subject of the book itself doesn’t appear to be about therapy at all. This is one of those times.
As my course evolves and I sit a little outside my lectures (in my head, I mean), I get the sense that my most ambitious 10 minutes involves the distinction between mesodermal and ectodermal structures – how they begin, what they’re capable of responding to and what that implies. This is Diane’s original thinking, of course, and I begin with a little talk about her work and generosity.
If what I’m saying at this point is correct, I am absolutely calling into question literally every aspect of the theory and manual technique these therapists have used for painful problems their entire careers. On a certain level this is mind-boggling, unsettling, and even brutal. Given that, anyone would expect some objection if only out of a desperate attempt to defend their training, thinking and clinical life.
Instead, in about a hundred instances, I’ve gotten nothing. Nada. Zip. Silence. It’s eerie.
Clancy’s book is about how and why people - perfectly normal people by the way - come to believe that they have been abducted by aliens from outer space. And she’s not talking about just a few. Included here are the legions who believe them despite the complete absence of evidence. It makes me think of my many colleagues, hardworking, competent and committed though they may be, who remain firmly entrenched in the traditions of therapy that depend upon a “belief” in mesodermal function and dysfunction that couldn’t possibly be true or relevant to many, many complaints of pain.
I see a parallel here, and since I’m only on page twenty-something of this book, I thought I’d begin this thread as I read and see where it takes me (or us if others get the book). Perhaps it will lead to further understanding rather than further confrontation. Actually, with neuroscience on my side, I don’t think it’s a fair fight.
But there is this; a line from Clancy I want to put into my power point presentation:
When you pit the cold, remote virtues of scientific data against the immediacy of personal experience, science is bound to lose.
Those who we hope to teach and change have been abducted by an idea that has had its day. Though convenient and culturally acceptable it was never adequate or defendable once neuroscience challenged it. It does however have “personal experience” going for it. We may be doomed to failure. Understanding the how and why of that abduction is what I want to begin with here.
More soon.
As does occasionally happen, a single text can generate a large number of ideas in me, most related to therapy practice though the subject of the book itself doesn’t appear to be about therapy at all. This is one of those times.
As my course evolves and I sit a little outside my lectures (in my head, I mean), I get the sense that my most ambitious 10 minutes involves the distinction between mesodermal and ectodermal structures – how they begin, what they’re capable of responding to and what that implies. This is Diane’s original thinking, of course, and I begin with a little talk about her work and generosity.
If what I’m saying at this point is correct, I am absolutely calling into question literally every aspect of the theory and manual technique these therapists have used for painful problems their entire careers. On a certain level this is mind-boggling, unsettling, and even brutal. Given that, anyone would expect some objection if only out of a desperate attempt to defend their training, thinking and clinical life.
Instead, in about a hundred instances, I’ve gotten nothing. Nada. Zip. Silence. It’s eerie.
Clancy’s book is about how and why people - perfectly normal people by the way - come to believe that they have been abducted by aliens from outer space. And she’s not talking about just a few. Included here are the legions who believe them despite the complete absence of evidence. It makes me think of my many colleagues, hardworking, competent and committed though they may be, who remain firmly entrenched in the traditions of therapy that depend upon a “belief” in mesodermal function and dysfunction that couldn’t possibly be true or relevant to many, many complaints of pain.
I see a parallel here, and since I’m only on page twenty-something of this book, I thought I’d begin this thread as I read and see where it takes me (or us if others get the book). Perhaps it will lead to further understanding rather than further confrontation. Actually, with neuroscience on my side, I don’t think it’s a fair fight.
But there is this; a line from Clancy I want to put into my power point presentation:
When you pit the cold, remote virtues of scientific data against the immediacy of personal experience, science is bound to lose.
Those who we hope to teach and change have been abducted by an idea that has had its day. Though convenient and culturally acceptable it was never adequate or defendable once neuroscience challenged it. It does however have “personal experience” going for it. We may be doomed to failure. Understanding the how and why of that abduction is what I want to begin with here.
More soon.
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