<h2><span>CHAPTER III</span> <span class="smaller">THE FORCES SHAPING CHARACTER</span></h2>
<p>It will be seen from the foregoing that evolution of the individual
character may be the result of a very large number of forces at
work, of which many are quite unconscious; and that any considerable
disturbance or variation of the unconscious factors will considerably
modify the character of the individual, in spite of conscious desires
in some other direction. The character of an individual is the sum of
his thoughts, ideas, capacities, desires, feelings and actions, and the
general forces moulding it may be briefly summarised as follows:</p>
<blockquote><p>1. The primitive instincts inherited from his ancestors, and held
back in the unconscious mind.</p>
<p>2. Environment and education.</p>
<p>3. That pride in his own greatness, to which we referred in
the last chapter, which modifies all the other forces at work,
according to the direction of its development. This force will
henceforth be called by the name of Narcissism, for a reason
shortly to be explained.</p>
</blockquote>
<h3>§2</h3>
<p>Of the inherited instincts we have already said as much as is necessary
here. It suffices for us to recognise that they are for the most part
of a primitive erotic type, and that they are so repressed and modified
as to be unrecognisable in the normal adult. When they have been
ineffectually converted by environment and education, we have present
the basis of many neurotic and functional conditions, and this again is
a matter which is outside the scope of the present work.</p>
<h3>§3</h3>
<p>Environment and education are extremely comprehensive terms as used
in psychology. Environment does not merely refer to the home with its
visible surroundings, nor does education merely refer to the scholastic
side of it. Environment and education include the treatment of the
child by the nurse during the first week of life; for instance,
whether she leaves it alone when it cries, or whether she soothes it
and rocks it to sleep again. A trivial fact, the reader will think,
especially in the first week of the child’s life, yet experience
shows us that this environment and education of the first week is an
extremely important factor in its after-life. The thousand little
actions, the trivial chance words of anger or contempt, not merely
of the parent but of strangers or of other children, all make their
impressions on the infantile unconscious mind. They all belong, in the
strictest sense, to what we term its environment and education. Any
stimulus, in fact, however small, which is capable of reaching the
brain forms part of this environment and education which is reacting
on the child. Psychologists are now generally of the opinion that
the essential elements of the individual character have all been
definitely formed by the age of five, and that, important as training
in successive years may be, the environment and education during those
first five years are more important still.</p>
<p><i>It is the object of education and</i> <i>environment to modify and utilise
the force of the primitive instincts with which the child comes into
the world in the best possible way.</i></p>
<p><i>Three things may happen to any particular instinct.</i> Firstly, it may
remain unchanged and unrepressed, in which case the individual will
be said, on reaching adult life, to be perverted in some way. Let us
take as an example that instinct which exists in some animals, and
which urges them at the mating season to exhibit their genital organs
to their fellows of the opposite sex, with the perfectly natural and
proper end in view of propagating the species. We occasionally find
adult human beings in whom this instinct has remained unchanged and
uncontrolled, and they generally find their way, sooner or later,
into prison. The psychological term for the offence they commit is
“exhibitionism.” In the small child, however, we have often seen this
instinct at work, without regarding it as objectionable in any way.
We have laughed at the little child who delights in running about
naked, or asks us to come and see it being bathed, or on occasion calls
even more obvious attention to its state of nakedness. It is quite
unconscious of the primitive instinct which it is displaying, and since
it is a child and cannot in any way fulfil the sexual objects of the
instinct, we pass the matter over, without further thought.</p>
<p>Secondly, our primitive instincts may be <i>displaced</i>, and the
displacement must be such as to conceal them from our conscious
thoughts, in order that they may be tolerated by the conscious mind.
For instance, the normal adult will not be guilty of exhibiting his
nakedness in the way above referred to, nor will he display desires of
sexual exhibitionism in a conscious manner. But he, or more frequently
she, will <i>displace</i> these ideas, and will only call attention to the
sex of her body indirectly by exhibiting the neck or arms, or more
indirectly still through the medium of clothes, designed to suggest,
(for the most part unconsciously) erotic ideas.</p>
<p>Thirdly, a much higher state may be reached by some people in which the
primitive instinct has now lost entirely its erotic meaning, instead
of being merely disguised and displaced as in the last case. The force
and energy of it has all gone from the personal physical plane to
serve a useful social purpose of a non-sexual nature. This is known as
<i>sublimation</i>, and instead of the desire of our exhibitionist to show
himself or herself physically, the person may attain the desire by
showing a fine character, by designing a fine building, achieving some
high position, or anything in fact of an ideal or non-erotic nature.</p>
<p>Exactly the same process takes place in the opposite of exhibitionism,
which in its primitive form we term observationism. “Peeping Tom” is a
celebrated example of this. We have a <i>displacement</i> of observationism
in the fairly average young man, who likes to observe all that he can
of the charms of every woman he comes into contact with, who takes
an eager interest in her shoulders, breasts, underclothing, and any
part she may exhibit. And we have the third or <i>sublimated</i> stage in
the scientist, who has turned most of his primitive sexual instinct
of “looking” in the sexual sense into looking down the microscope, or
searching for the secrets of Nature, and delving amidst her hidden
laws, instead of using the same primitive desire to look in an
unsublimated and rather more infantile manner.</p>
<p>It is exactly the same with a large number of other primitive
instincts, which even did I mention them here would not be grasped
or understood at all by many without very much further explanation.
Suffice it to say, that many of our higher activities and desires
are sublimations of lower and more primitive instincts, which we are
learning to develop and control; <i>and that education and environment
have, as their object, the training of the child by turning the forces
at work in his primitive instincts through the stage of displacement
into the final one of sublimation</i>.</p>
<p>It should be clearly grasped that the energy lying behind our primitive
instincts, whether it be repressed, displaced or sublimated, is a
very real force, comparable with the physical energy which we are
accustomed to deal with in everyday life. <i>And this energy must find
some outlet for its discharge.</i> Thus,<SPAN name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_2" >[2]</SPAN>“We know as regards physical
energy that there are not several kinds of energy, but merely several
manifestations of it, and that it may be changed from one form of
manifestation to another, but that still the sum total of the original
energy remains without addition or loss.”</p>
<p>Thus there is a given amount of energy stored in a ton of coal. This
energy can manifest itself as <i>heat</i> in the furnace and boiler. By
means of an engine we can change the manifestation into that of
<i>motion</i>, then with a dynamo to <i>electricity</i>; the electricity we can
again change into <i>light</i>, or back again into <i>heat</i> or <i>motion</i>. There
is <i>one</i> energy, but by suitable means we can turn it to different
uses, and give different manifestations of it. Owing, however, to the
imperfection of the boiler, machinery, etc., we never transform the
<i>whole</i> of our energy into another form. In transforming heat into
electricity, there is always some heat wasted; it is not destroyed, but
it remains as heat for a time, and is absorbed by surrounding objects.
A complete transference of energy does not take place, and the less
efficient the machinery the less is the transference.</p>
<p>Now evidence tends to show a considerable similarity between psychic
and physical energy. In all probability there is only one ultimate
psychic energy which, like physical energy, can be directed into
different channels. Thus, the energy of erotic desire can be directed
to a large extent into the energy of desire for music, religion,
science, or sport; or the energy of the desire for sport may be changed
into the energy of the desire for mental exercise, such as chess,
mathematics, or science. For example, an individual feels “restless,”
he then desires to play tennis; the afternoon is wet: he plays chess
instead. His psychic energy has been diverted from one channel into
another with its accompanying excitement and satisfaction of desire:
with its final feeling of fatigue and repletion.</p>
<p>Psychic energy, like physical energy, can never be entirely diverted
from one channel to another. There is always some, often a large
quantity, which is not altered in character. The amount of this depends
largely on the person concerned, just as the amount of physical energy,
changed from one form to another depends on the efficiency of the
engine or machinery.</p>
<p>This possibility of transference of energy of desire from one form
to another is of the utmost importance to the psycho-analyst. By the
technique of psycho-analysis the energy of repressed desires is first
freed from deleterious objectives, and then transferred to legitimate
ones. The energy behind the conflicts which lead to alcoholism or
drug-taking may, under suitable conditions, be transferred to energy of
higher types of desire with more suitable outlets. These processes are
known as <i>transference</i> and <i>sublimation</i> respectively.</p>
<p>It may be taken that every mind has a given amount of psychic energy
which <i>must</i> find somewhere its suitable outlet in satisfying desire,
whether for accomplishment or for enjoyment.</p>
<p>We may here again take the opportunity of stating that the efficiency
or lack of efficiency demonstrated in different individuals in their
attempts to transfer the energy of desire from a lower to a higher
channel depends not only on heredity and constitutional circumstances
but to an extraordinary degree on the individual’s environment and the
actions of the parents in the first three or four years of his life.
The reason why seemingly excellent parents produce sometimes execrable
progeny becomes clearer under psycho-analysis. The over-strict parent
produces one type of inefficient children, the parent who spoils
produces other inefficient types. The nurse, the nursery, the casual
visitor, the trivial conversations, the unconsidered sights and
experiences, all have a terrific influence in the first few years
of the child’s life. Parents do not realise that conventional or
arbitrary methods of education, whether in one direction or another,
are not going to effect the results they expected. The primitive
unconscious mind of the child understands and absorbs in a manner
that civilised man does not recognise. The bad father may by accident
or <i>neglect</i> produce an excellent child—the good father with all
his designs may produce a bad one. This is not an attempt to show
that as the child grows up <i>all</i> its actions are dependent on the
early environment; merely that we can never compare the good or bad
in individuals; that an apparent failure, owing to his inefficiency
of powers of sublimation, may yet be devoting more energy to ascent
than the successful saint whose early environment made for efficient
transference of energy of desire. Some of the commonest of errors made
by well-meaning parents will come to light at a later period. “<i>They
teach their children to repress erotic and other desires but they omit
at the same time to assist the development of that sublimation of them
which is absolutely essential.</i>”</p>
<h3>§4</h3>
<p>We now come to the third great factor in character formation, and as
this particular factor is going to occupy the major portion of this
book, I will not do more here than indicate briefly the symbolic
meaning of the term Narcissism; the reason why this term is used in
connection with our primitive feelings of pride will then gradually
unfold itself.</p>
<p>Narcissus was the son of the river god, Cephissus. In his mother’s
eyes he was extremely beautiful, and later in the eyes of all others,
including himself. It was his wont to walk abroad in solitary places
lost in admiration of the graceful form which he thought no eyes
worthy to behold, save his own. On one occasion, he wanted to drink
from a cool spring and catching sight of his face in the water for
the first time in his life, at once fell in love with it, not knowing
it to be his own likeness. On his knees at the edge of the pool, he
stretched himself, and looked down upon a face and form so entrancingly
beautiful, that he was ready to leap into the water beside it.</p>
<p>“Who art thou, who hast been made so fair?” cried Narcissus. And the
lips of the image moved, yet there came no answer. He stretched out his
hand towards it, and the beautiful form beckoned to him. But when his
hand touched and broke the surface, it vanished like a dream, only to
return in all its enchantment when he was content to gaze motionless,
even then, again, growing dim beneath the tears of vexation he shed
into the water. Repeatedly, he tried to gather the lovely image in his
arms, but it always eluded him, but when he entreated and implored, it
imitated his gestures with unfeeling silence. </p>
<p></p>
<p>Maddened by the strong allurement of his own likeness, he could not
tear himself away from the mirror which ever mocked his fancy. Hour
after hour, day after day, he leant over the pool’s brink, crying in
vain for that imaginary object of adoration. But at last from despair
his heart ceased to throb, and he lay still among the water-lilies that
made his shroud.</p>
<p class="center">* * * * * * *</p>
<p>Before proceeding further and examining the development of Narcissism,
and those factors which come to preserve it, and make it forceful in
our unconscious mind, we must first briefly consider the subject of
determinism.</p>
<h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_2">[2]</SPAN> “Elements of Practical Psycho-Analysis,” by Paul
Bousfield.</p>
<hr />
<p></p>
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