Of Course I’m Happy, I’ve Got Hundreds of Pictures to prove it

It’s well known that one of the defence mechanisms favoured by addicts is Denial. The stereotypical example is that of the alcoholic who says, “I’m not an alcoholic, I could give up drinking anytime I want.”

Indeed the prevalence of this defence in addiction is one of the reasons why the first thing you do at an AA meeting is act against it by claiming that you are an alcoholic.

This is so well known today that a slightly uncanny experience can arise if a friend ever asks if you’re an alcoholic. Because alcoholics who’re not dealing with the issue will tend to say “no,” the problem arises concerning how to respond. After all, if you say “no” you’re answering in exactly the same way as the alcoholic in denial. Things get even worse if you then go on to say, “but I’m really not.” Because then your friend can respond by saying, “yep, that’s exactly what an alcoholic would go on to say.”

So what is the difference between an honest denial of some reality and the defence mechanism of Denial? Before approaching an answer to this it’s important to point out that working out the difference in practice is a lot more difficult than understanding the difference in principle.

In therapeutic situations the therapist must be careful to avoid thinking they understand the other person better than that person understands themselves. The therapists job involves asking probing questions and listening carefully to the speech of the analysand so that the analysand might come to know whether or not they are in denial themselves.

Of course the therapist might suspect Denial is in play, but they can’t know for sure and must avoid thinking that they do. It’s so easy for us to impute motives onto other people when the reality is often much more complex than we allow. With that said, we can create some fictional examples in order to get an idea of how denial works as a defence.

Basically the difference between an honest denial and denial as a defence mechanism is hinted at in the strength and repetition of the claim. Someone who isn’t an alcoholic doesn’t walk around telling themselves and others that they aren’t. If someone asks, they will just say no and not think much more about it. In contrast, someone with a drinking problem will tend to say they don’t at the drop of a hat. For example, a man might be at a party where there isn’t much alcohol and so volunteer to go out and buy some. As he gets his coat he might say in passing, “not that I’m an alcoholic or anything, I just fancy a little drink.”

Such acts are not designed primarily to convince other people, but to convince the one making the claim. A strategy that involves spending a huge amount of psychic energy.

One starts to suspect Denial when the claim is repeated time and again without any real need or justification.

A different example might be the case of a couple putting up happy pictures of themselves on Facebook. A few images that present them enjoying life likely hint at a good and happy relationship. But if new smiling images appear every week, with regular status updates about how great life is, something starts to seem amiss. The sheer strength and repetition of images/updates starts to look like a symptom (a symptom being an act that covers over an unpleasant truth).

Like the alcoholic in denial, the couple aren’t necessarily trying to dupe other people, rather they are likely attempting to dupe themselves.

Because people engage most strongly in defence mechanisms when things are particularly bad, a frenzy of happy pictures can often appear right when things are actually at their worst in the relationship. The strength and repetition thus hints at a last ditch attempt to cover over a repressed crisis the couple haven’t faced.

Indeed it’s common for people to get engaged at the point when their relationship is at its most unhealthy. This doesn’t, of course, refer to all such acts, and somethimes the structure that marriage offers can provide the holding that a couple need to work things through. But it’s not uncommon to hear people say, “we were either going to break up or get married.”

Many proposals happen at the very point when everything is on the rocks, as this provides a way for the person proposing to avoid confronting the reality of the dysfunctional relationship and potential loneliness (if the other person accepts such a proposal then they too are likely engaged in a similar strategy of avoidance). At this point the truth is most in danger of exploding onto the surface and thus extreme defences comes into play.

As I explored in the previous post, I’m interested in how communities employ defence mechanisms to deny unpleasant realities. In that post I explored the phenomenon of Splitting and touched on its use in Religious institutions, but here I’d like to briefly consider Denial.

Take the example of a religious community where the preaching continually returns to the sinful hedonism of the world beyond its walls. Imagine that this isn’t some isolated sermon, but rather exists as a common and recurring motif. In addition to the Sunday sermons there might even be prayer groups about the evils of sexual promiscuity, teachings on the selfishness of society and regular claims to the tone of, “thank God we’re not like them.”

In such situations one can find that the community is actually denying an unpleasant truth about its own hedonism. For instance, it’s not unusual to find the churches that most preach against consumerism to be the ones that most embrace consumerism. It is quite common to hear such a message in mega-churches that have large industries dedicated to selling books and religious paraphernalia. These churches often model themselves on the experience of a shopping mall (with coffee shops, entertainment, large lobbies filled with casual seating, and excessive set pieces). They might even have production studios where they create high quality sermon products and employ people dedicated to creating adverts for expensive retreats. Indeed the pastor might dress in expensive clothes and model themselves on successful CEO’s or rockstars.

Indeed I recently attended a well known church that has the look and feel of a rock concert. After the band the speaker got up and started by saying, “I heard that last week Jonny Depp was in church. Turned out it wasn’t him, but let me tell you that there is someone bigger than Jonny Depp here… Jesus!” The crowd erupted in applause. The implication, of course, is that stars are important people, and Jesus is a superstar. The strange thing however was that much of the service (particularly in some adverts they had for events) emphasized the idea that everyone is equally valuable. Indeed the very name of the church references the idea that everyone is a tiny fragment of a picture, all having their place. If the church openly claimed that rich and famous people were more important than others, then they would be owning up to their seeming values. But this was not the case and so the preachers slip started to look like it revealed a repressed truth. Again however it must be said that this might not be the case. There was enough going on to make one want to ask questions, but who knows what those questions would turn up. As I am not part of the community I was not in a place to ask those questions.

The point here is not to make a judgement on what some churches are doing, but to show that some churches are making a judgement against themselves. However the judgement is being denied and projected out onto others because it is too unpleasant to directly address. The bizarre thing for those on the outside looking in, is working out how the church can actually be oblivious to the fact that the very thing they are condemning is what they are obsessively engaged in.

Alternatively, you might have a church that doesn’t engage in what they condemn. But, if the condemnation is constant, then one has to wonder whether the reason is more to do with lack of resources or courage to accept what one wants, than a moral stance. Take the example of a small church that constantly talks about how it isn’t about the numbers. If this claim is made once or twice we would have no reason to doubt its sincerity. But if it is said all the time then one has to wonder whether the real repressed fantasy is of having a huge church with thousands of people.

An interesting exercise for individuals and communities might involve reflecting for a few moments on whether there are things that we are constantly denying and, if so, whether that denial actually signals some unpleasant truth that we need to address.