SPEAKING FOR OUR SELVES

 

By Nicholas Humphrey & Daniel C. Dennett

(From Raritan: A Quarterly Review, IX, 68-98, Summer 1989)

"Thus play I in one person many people, and none contented." – Richard II

In the early 1960's when the laws of England allowed nudity on stage only if the actor did not move, a tent at the Midsummer Fair in Cambridge offered an interesting display. "The one and only Chameleon Lady," the poster read, "becomes Great Women in History". The inside of the tent was dark. "Florence Nightingale!" the showman bellowed, and the lights came up on a naked woman, motionless as marble, holding up a lamp. The audience cheered. The lights went down. There was a moment's shuffling on the stage. "Joan of Arc!", and here she was, lit from a different angle, leaning on a sword. "Good Queen Bess!", and now she had on a red wig and was carrying an orb and scepter.. "But it's the same person," said a know-all schoolboy.

Imagine now, thirty years later, a commercial for an IBM computer. A poster on a tent announces, "The one and only IBM PC becomes Great Information Processors of History". The tent is dark. "WordStar!" shouts the showman, and the lights come up on a desktop computer, displaying a characteristic menu of commands. The lights go down. There is the sound of changing disks. "Paintbrush!", and here is the computer displaying a different menu. "Now, what you've all been waiting for, Lotus 123!".. "But it's just a different program," says the schoolboy.

Somewhere between these two scenarios lies the phenomenon of multiple personality in human beings. And somewhere between these two over-easy assessments of it lie we. One of us (NH) is a theoretical psychologist, the other (DCD) is a philosopher, both with a long-standing interest in the nature of personhood and of the self. We have had the opportunity during the past year to meet several "multiples," to talk with their therapists, and to savor the world from which they come. We give here an outsider's inside view.

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We had been at the conference on Multiple Personality Disorder for two full days before someone made the inevitable joke: "The problem with those who don't believe in MPD is they've got Single Personality Disorder." In the mirror-world that we had entered, almost no one laughed.

The occasion was the 5th International Conference on Multiple Personality/Dissociative States in Chicago last October, attended by upwards of five hundred psychotherapists and a large but unquantifiable number of former patients.

The Movement or the Cause (as it was called) of MPD has been undergoing an exponential growth. 200 cases of multiplicity reported up till 1980, 1,000 known to be in treatment by 1984, 4,000 now. Women outnumber men by at least four to one, and there is reason to believe that the vast majority - perhaps 95% - have been sexually or physically abused as children. We heard it said there are currently more than 25,000 multiples in North America.

The accolade of "official diagnosis" was granted in 1980, with an entry in the clinician's handbook, DSM-III:

Multiple Personality. 1. The existence within an individual of two or more distinct personalities, each of which is dominant at a particular time. 2. The personality that is dominant at any particular time determines the individual's behavior. 3. Each individual personality is complex and integrated with its own unique behavior patterns and social relationships.

Typically there is said to exist a "host" personality, and several alternative personalities or "alters". Usually, though not always, these personalities call themselves by different names. They may talk with different accents, dress by choice in different clothes, frequent different locales.

None of the personalities is emotionally well-rounded. The host is often emotionally flat, and different alters express exaggerated moods: Anger, Nurturance, Childishness, Sexiness. Because of their different affective competence, it falls to different alters to handle different social situations. Thus one may come out for love-making, another for playing with the kids, another for picking a fight and so on.

The host personality is on stage most of the time, but the alters cut in and displace the host when for one reason or another the host cannot cope. The host is usually amnesic for those episodes when an alter is in charge; hence the host is likely to have blank spots or missing time. Although general knowledge is shared between them, particular memories are not.

The life experience of each alter is formed primarily by the episodes when she or he is in control. Over time, and many episodes, this experience is aggregated into a discordant view of who he or she is - and hence a separate sense of self.

The number of alters varies greatly between patients, from just one (dual personality), to several dozen. In the early literature most patients were reported to have two or three, but there has been a steady increase, with a recent survey suggesting the median number is eleven. When the family has grown this large, one or more of the alters is likely to claim to be of different gender.

Such at least is how we first heard multiplicity described to us. It was not however until we were exposed to particular case histories, that we ourselves began to have any feeling for the human texture of the syndrome or for the analysis being put on it by MPD professionals. Each case must be of course unique. But it is clear that common themes are beginning to emerge, and that, based on their pooled experience, therapists are beginning to think in terms of a "typical case history". The case that follows, although in part a reconstruction, is true to type (and life).

*     *     *     *

Mary, in her early thirties, has been suffering from depression, confusional states and lapses of memory. During the last few years she has been in and out of the hospital, where she has been diagnosed variously as schizophrenic, borderline, and manic depressive. Failing to respond to any kind of drug treatment, she has also been suspected of malingering. She ends up eventually in the hands of Doctor R, who specializes in treating dissociative disorders. More trusting of him than of previous doctors, Mary comes out with the following tell-tale information.

Mary's father died when she was two years old, and her mother almost immediately remarried. Her stepfather, she says, was kind to her, although "he sometimes went too far". Through childhood she suffered from sick-headaches. She had a poor appetite and she remembers frequently being punished for not finishing her food. Her teenage years were stormy, with dramatic swings in mood. She vaguely recalls being suspended from her high school for a misdemeanor, but her memory for her school years is patchy. In describing them she occasionally resorts - without notice - to the third person ("She did this.. That happened to her"), or sometimes the first person plural ("We [Mary] went to Grandma's"). She is well informed in many areas, is artistically creative and can play the guitar; but when asked where she learnt it, she says she does not know and deflects attention to something else. She agrees that she is "absent-minded" - "but aren't we all?": for example, she might find there are clothes in her closet that she can't remember buying, or she might find she has sent her niece two birthday cards. She claims to have strong moral values; but other people, she admits, call her a hypocrite and liar. She keeps a diary - "to keep up," she says, "with where we're at".

Dr. R (who already has four multiples in treatment), is beginning to recognize a pattern. When, some months into treatment, he sees Mary's diary and observes that the handwriting varies from one entry to the next, as if written by several different people, he decides (in his own words) "to go for gold". With Mary's agreement, he suggests they should undertake an exploratory session of hypnosis. He puts her into a light trance and requests that the "part of Mary that hasn't yet come forward" should make herself known. A sea-change occurs in the woman in front of him. Mary, until then a model of decorum, throws him a flirtatious smile. "Hi, Doctor," she says, "I'm Sally. Mary's a wimp. She thinks she knows it all, but I can tell you .. "

But Sally does not tell him much, at least not yet. In subsequent sessions (conducted now without hypnosis) Sally comes and goes, almost as if she were playing games with Dr R. She allows him glimpses of what she calls the "happy hours", and hints at having a separate and exotic history unknown to Mary. But then with a toss of the head she slips away - leaving Mary, apparently no party to the foregoing conversation, to explain where she has been.

Now Dr R starts seeing his patient twice a week, for sessions that are several hours in length. In the course of the next year he uncovers the existence not just of Sally but of a whole family of alter personalities, each with their own characteristic style. "Sally" is coquettish, "Hatey" is angry, "Peggy" is young and malleable. Each has a story to tell about the times when she is "out in front"; and each has her own set of special memories. While each of the alters claims to know most of what goes on in Mary's life, Mary herself denies anything but hearsay knowledge of their roles.

To begin with, the change-over from one personality to another is unpredictable and apparently spontaneous. The only clue that a switch is imminent is a sudden look of vacancy, marked perhaps by Mary's rubbing her brow, or covering her eyes with her hand (as if in momentary pain). But as their confidence grows, it becomes easier for Dr. R to summon different alters "on demand".