This is giving me a new appreciation for why multiagent/subagent models of mind are so appealing. I used to think of them as people reifying many tiny phenomena into gross models that are easier to work with because the mental complexity of models with all the fine details is too hard to work with, and while I still think that’s true, this gives me a deeper appreciation for what’s going on, because it seems it’s not just that it’s a convenient model to abstract away from the details, but that the structure of our brains is setup in such a way that makes subagents feel natural so long as you model only so far down. I only ever much had a subjective experience of having two parts in my mind before blowing it all apart, so this gives an interesting look to me of how it is that people can feel like they are made up of many parts. Thanks!
IFS is a psychoanalytic model that, to my reading, originates from thinking of the Freudian id, ego, and superego like three homunculi competing to control the mind, but replaces the id, ego, and superego with groups of subagents serving exile, firefighter, and manager roles, respectively. These roles differer in both subtle and obvious ways from their inspirational forms,
FWIW, at least Richard Schwartz’s published account of the origins of IFS contradicts this reading. Rather than basing the model on any previous theoretical framework, he reports that the observations which led to the creation of IFS actively contradicted many of his previous theoretical assumptions and that he was forced to basically throw them away and construct something new based on what he actually encountered in clincal work. E.g. a few excerpts from Internal Family Systems Theory:
Much of what is contained in this book was taught to me by my clients. Not only did they teach the contents of this approach; they also taught me to listen to them and trust their reports of what happened inside them, rather than to fit their reports into my preconceptions. This lesson was several years in the learning. I had to be corrected repeatedly. Many times clients forced me to discard ideas that had become mainstays of the theory. I also wrestled perpetually with my skeptical parts, which could not believe what I was hearing, and worried about how these reports would be received by academic colleagues. The reason why this model has immediate intuitive appeal for many people is that ultimately I was sometimes able to suspend my preconceptions, tune down my inner skeptics, and genuinely listen. [...]
Some therapists/theorists listened to their clients and consequently walked segments of this intriguing inner road before me. They provided lanterns and maps for some of the territory, while for other stretches I have had only my clients as guides. For the first few years after entering this intrapsychic realm, I assiduously avoided reading the reports of others, for fear that my observations would be biased by preconceptions of what existed and was possible. Gradually I felt secure enough to compare my observations with others who had directly interacted with inner entities. I was astounded by the similarity of many observations, yet intrigued by some of the differences. [...]
Born in part as a reaction against the acontextual excesses of the psychoanalytic movement, the systems-based models of family therapy traditionally eschewed issues of intrapsychic process. It was assumed that the family level is the most important system level to change, and that changes at this level trickle down to each family member’s inner life. Although this taboo against intrapsychic considerations delayed the emergence of more comprehensive systemic models, the taboo had the beneficial effect of allowing theorists to concentrate on one level of human system until useful adaptations of systems thinking could evolve.
I was one of these “external-only” family therapists for the first 8 years of my professional life. I obtained a PhD in marital and family therapy, so as to become totally immersed in the systems thinking that I found so fascinating and valuable. I was drawn particularly to the structural school of family therapy (Minuchin, 1974; Minuchin & Fishman, 1981), largely because of its optimistic philosophy. Salvador Minuchin asserted that people are basically competent but that this competence is constrained by their family structure; to release the competence, change the structure. The IFS model still holds this basic philosophy, but suggests that it is not just the external family structure that constrains and can change. [...]
This position—that it is useful to conceive of inner entities as autonomous personalities, as inner people—is contrary to the common-sense notion of ourselves. [...] It was only after several years of working with people’s parts that I could consider thinking of them in this multidimensional way, so I understand the difficulty this may create for many readers. [...]
When my colleagues and I began our treatment project in 1981, bulimia was a new and exotic syndrome for which there were no family systems explanations or maps. In our anxiety, we seized the frames and techniques developed by structural family therapists for other problems and tried them on each new bulimia case. In several instances this approach worked well, so we leaped to the conclusion that the essential mechanism behind bulimia was the triangulation of the client with the parents. In that sense, we became essentialists; we thought we had found the essence, so we could stop exploring and could use the same formula with each new case. Data that contradicted these assumptions were interpreted as the result of faulty observations or imperfect therapy.
Fortunately, we were involved in a study that required close attention to both the process and outcome of our therapy. As our study progressed, the strain of trying to fit contradictory observations into our narrow model became too great, too Procrustean. We were forced to leave the security and simplicity of our original model and face the anomie that accompanies change. We were also forced to listen carefully to clients when they talked about their experiences and about what was helpful to them. We were forced to discard our expert’s mind, full of preconceptions and authority, and adopt what the Buddhists call beginner’s mind, which is an open, collaborative state. “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few” (Suzuki, 1970, p. 21). In this sense, our clients have helped us to change as much as or more than we have helped them.
The IFS model was developed in this open, collaborative spirit. It encourages the beginner’s mind because, although therapists have some general preconceptions regarding the multiplicity of the mind, clients are the experts on their experiences. The clients describe their subpersonalities and the relationships of these to one another and to family members. Rather than imposing solutions through interpretations or directives, therapists collaborate with clients, respecting their expertise and resources.
This is giving me a new appreciation for why multiagent/subagent models of mind are so appealing. I used to think of them as people reifying many tiny phenomena into gross models that are easier to work with because the mental complexity of models with all the fine details is too hard to work with, and while I still think that’s true, this gives me a deeper appreciation for what’s going on, because it seems it’s not just that it’s a convenient model to abstract away from the details, but that the structure of our brains is setup in such a way that makes subagents feel natural so long as you model only so far down. I only ever much had a subjective experience of having two parts in my mind before blowing it all apart, so this gives an interesting look to me of how it is that people can feel like they are made up of many parts. Thanks!
Thanks! That’s very strong praise. :)
As an aside, from your article:
FWIW, at least Richard Schwartz’s published account of the origins of IFS contradicts this reading. Rather than basing the model on any previous theoretical framework, he reports that the observations which led to the creation of IFS actively contradicted many of his previous theoretical assumptions and that he was forced to basically throw them away and construct something new based on what he actually encountered in clincal work. E.g. a few excerpts from Internal Family Systems Theory: