Tag Archives: Paradox

Counseling and Psychotherapy Theory and Practice, Personal Reflections, Writing

Paradoxical Intention, Part II: Transformative Epiphanies

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Often, I have the honor of getting a personal preview of Rita S-F’s Godblogs. I sit in a cushy chair, shut my eyes, and let her words create images in my brain. It’s not unusual for her readings to stimulate unusual thoughts. But, last week, while listening, I was taken with a particular epiphany.

She was reading about how easy (and destructive) it is to be judgmental; I can’t recall the details. In response, a voice in my head spoke gently,

“I wonder if it might help if you could try, just a little, to be even more judgmental. . .” followed by an additional internal commentary “. . . said no one ever.”

The thought—of trying to be even more judgmental—made my lips curl upward into a smile. I felt an urge to laugh. Then, naturally, I thought of Viktor Frankl.

As I wrote in my last blog (https://johnsommersflanagan.com/2021/12/06/paradoxical-intention-dont-try-this-at-home-or-maybe-dont-try-it-anywhere/), Frankl was the first person I know of who explicitly discussed paradoxical intention as working like a joke to the psyche. I’ve written about that, but I’d never felt it in my gut. This time I did actually feel it. Then, and in response to the thought of intending to be “even more judgmental,” along with the urge to laugh, I also felt a small internal push back toward acceptance.  

Paradoxical intention has two parts. First, there’s the intention. I’ve tried the intention part of paradoxical intention with myself (and used it with clients) in specific situations when physical behaviors or responses feel outside of voluntary control. One example is the twitching eye syndrome. If you have an eye that’s prone to twitching, you can try to make it twitch more or try to make it twitch when it hasn’t been twitching. That’s the intention part. The other part is for the intention to be aimed toward the opposite of your goal. In the case of listening to Rita’s blog, the thought of intending to be more judgmental was received and then produced psychological push-back. What was different than any other response I’ve ever felt about paradoxical intention was my urge to smile and laugh. I’d never felt like laughing when I tried to make a bothersome eye twitch . . . twitch more.

Later—while driving I-90 west—a place where I’m prone to feeling intermittent anger toward drivers I label in my mind as “stupid,” I did another experiment.

“I wonder,” I thought to myself, “if maybe I could try to start feeling just a little angrier toward those other drivers. Being alone in the car, I tried it out with a brief litany of profanity. In response, I felt increased anger. That wasn’t good. But within seconds, my brain started the natural push-back. I took note of my greater anger and quickly judged it as unpleasant. Then, I noticed an internal psychological push-back toward the center. I suddenly wanted the anger—which usually feels so justified in the moment—to go away. And so, I let it go.

Paradoxical intention isn’t a magic trick. Nothing in the world of human psychology is magical. Paradoxical intention operates on natural psychological dynamics. Laura and Fritz Perls would have called it an internal polarity. Behaviorists like to call it a form of overcorrection. The popular press tends to reduce it to a term I can’t help but find offensive: reverse psychology.

Although you might try paradoxical intention on your children or your friends, because of one central underlying principle, that’s not a great idea. The underlying principle is best expressed by an old (and bad) joke.

“How many mental health professionals does it take to change a light bulb?”

“Only one. But the light bulb has to want to change.”

You could try a little paradoxical intention . . . on yourself . . . but only if you want to experience a new transformative epiphany.

Clinical Interviewing, Cool Counseling, Counseling and Psychotherapy Theory and Practice, Writing

Paradoxical Intention: Don’t Try This at Home (or maybe don’t try it anywhere)

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People want change.

People don’t want change.

As W. R. Miller noted in his treatise on motivational interviewing (MI), ambivalence is nearly always the order of the day. Most people, most of the time, would like to be better and healthier versions of themselves. And, most people, most of the time, resist becoming better and healthier versions of themselves.  Who knew?

Alfred Adler may have been the first modern psychotherapist to write from a non-psychoanalytic perspective about how to work with individuals not interested in changing. What follows is a complex quote from Adler. He’s writing about how to work with a patient who is depressed, but not motivated or willing to change. You may need to read this excerpt several times to track it and appreciate Adler’s method. You may see all those words below and not want to put in the effort. That’s okay. You can stop reading now if you don’t want to gather in the nuance sprinkled into Adler’s indirect suggestion.

After establishing a sympathetic relation, I give suggestions for a change of conduct in two stages. In the first stage my suggestion is “Only do what is agreeable to you.” The patient usually answers, “Nothing is agreeable.” “Then at least,” I respond, “do not exert yourself to do what is disagreeable.” The patient, who has usually been exhorted to do various uncongenial things to remedy this condition, finds a rather flattering novelty in my advice, and may improve in behavior. Later I insinuate the second rule of conduct, saying that “It is much more difficult and I do not know if you can follow it.” After saying this I am silent, and look doubtfully at the patient. In this way I excite his [her/their] curiosity and ensure his attention, and then proceed, “If you could follow this second rule you would be cured in fourteen days. It is—to consider from time to time how you can give another person pleasure. It would very soon enable you to sleep and would chase away all your sad thoughts. You would feel yourself to be useful and worthwhile.”

I receive various replies to my suggestion, but every patient thinks it is too difficult to act upon. If the answer is, “How can I give pleasure to others when I have none myself?” I relieve the prospect by saying, “Then you will need four weeks.” The more transparent response, “Who gives me pleasure?” I counter with what is probably the strongest move in the game, by saying, “Perhaps you had better train yourself a little thus: do not actually do anything to please anyone else, but just think about how you could do it!” (Adler, 1964a, pp. 25–26)

Similar to Adler, Viktor Frankl also wrote about using “anti-suggestion” or paradox. Frankl was keen on this method as a means for treating anxiety, compulsions, and physical symptoms. An excerpt from our theories textbook describing Frankl’s paradoxical intention follows.

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Paradoxical Intention

. . . In a case example, Frankl discussed using paradox with a bookkeeper who was suffering from chronic writer’s cramp. The man had seen many physicians without improvement; he was in danger of losing his job. Frankl’s approach was to instruct the man to:

Do just the opposite from what he usually had done; namely, instead of trying to write as neatly and legibly as possible, to write with the worst possible scrawl. He was advised to say to himself, “now I will show people what a good scribbler I am!” And at that moment in which he deliberately tried to scribble, he was unable to do so. “I tried to scrawl but simply could not do it,” he said the next day. Within forty-eight hours the patient was in this way freed from his writer’s cramp, and remained free for the observation period after he had been treated. He is a happy man again and fully able to work. (Frankl, 1967, p. 4)

Frankl attributed the success of paradox, in part, to humor. He claimed that paradox allows individuals to place distance between themselves and their situation. New (humorous) perspectives allow clients to let go of symptoms. Frankl considered paradoxically facilitated attitude changes to represent deep and not superficial change.

Given that Frankl emphasized humor as the therapeutic mechanism underlying paradoxical intention, it fits that he would use a joke to explain how paradoxical intention works,

The basic mechanism underlying the technique…perhaps can best be illustrated by a joke which was told to me some years ago: A boy who came to school late excused himself to the teacher on the grounds that the icy streets were so slippery that whenever he moved one step forward he slipped two steps back again. Thereupon the teacher retorted, “Now I have caught you in a lie—if this were true, how did you ever get to school?” Whereupon the boy calmly replied, “I finally turned around and went home!” (Frankl, 1967, pp. 4–5)

Frankl believed paradoxical intention was especially effective for anxiety, compulsions, and physical symptoms. He reported on numerous cases, similar to the man with writer’s cramp, in which a nearly instantaneous cure resulted from the intervention. In addition to ascribing the cure to humor and distancing from the symptom, Frankl emphasized that paradox teaches clients to intentionally exaggerate, rather than avoid, their existential realities.

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I’m writing about paradoxical intention today because of an inspiration from Rita’s blog yesterday. There’s so much ostensible hate, judgment, and certainty in contemporary discourse. That got me thinking about whether a paradoxical approach might be timely and effective. Yesterday, I tried it on myself. Stay tuned, in my next post, I’ll write about how a little paradox worked out for me, and how it might help shift some of the lamentable, polarized arguments happening all around us.