@techsinger I really appreciate the way you’ve asked this. These questions matter and I’ve been thinking about them a lot too.
I think the lack of replication and evidence is a valid concern, especially from a scientific or empirical standpoint. For me, psychodynamic approaches try to make sense of something more fluid and less measurable. Our inner lives, our relationships, what we repeat without knowing, what we defend against feeling.
I've had moments where I’ve asked those same questions. What’s shifted for me is how much those questions are part of the process rather than something to be solved. The value is in the questions themselves.
#Psychotherapy #Psychodynamic #CriticalThinking #Reflections #StudentLife
@techsinger Thanks, I really value this exchange.
Contemporary psychodynamic theory has shifted quite a lot from the classical model. It’s no longer focused on instinct theory or claims about drives. Modern developments draw more from attachment theory, relational perspectives, and neuroscience. Much of the theory now focuses on how early relationships shape emotional development, how unconscious patterns form, and how these play out in therapy and in daily life.
Some approaches influenced by psychodynamic thought, like mentalisation-based therapy or affect regulation theory, are being studied with more empirical rigour. They’re not perfect, and they’re still developing, but they aim to connect with current research in developmental psychology and trauma studies.
So while the roots are tangled and historical, what has grown from them is often grounded in present-day relational and developmental understanding. Thanks again for the thoughtful critique.
@techsinger Thanks again for this thoughtful reply. I’m really enjoying this exchange, and I agree with much of what you’re saying. The shift from older psychodynamic writing to the current literature is definitely noticeable. Some of the early texts feel like personal reflections. The newer material is more complex and reflective, although I still find myself wondering whether the complexity adds clarity or disguises the same issues.
I also agree the field could benefit from a bit more humility. Some of the claims are ambitious, especially considering the difficulty of verifying them or measuring outcomes consistently. Personally, I prefer a more holistic approach to therapy where the whole person is respected, not only their past or their unconscious processes. I’m at the beginning of my training and my course is integrated, so we’re learning a range of theories. I also speak from lived experience, having been in therapy for several years, so I’m coming to this as a student and as someone who’s been on the other side of the process.
One issue that rarely gets addressed is access. In Australia, psychodynamic therapy can be $200 a session. Traditionally, it’s twice a week, and eventually reduces to once a week. That cost makes it inaccessible for many, no matter how helpful it might be. Your comparisonwith political science made me smile. There’s a lot of interpretation and definitely some wishful thinking involved. And like you said, there’s nothing wrong with trying to understand something complex, as long as it doesn’t get sold as certainty or truth. I also really agree with your point about “go to therapy” sometimes being code for “I don’t want to deal with you.” That has nothing to do with therapy itself, and everything to do with how people misuse it socially.
@techsinger I really appreciate everything you’ve shared here. There’s so much I agree with, especially around cost, access, and the illusion that more complexity equals more insight.
Cost is a systemic issue. It's not unique to psychodynamic therapy, and not only an Australian problem. People who need support are being left out. I think mental health shapes everything we do, and the lack of access reinforces inequality.
When therapy is only available to a narrow slice of people, it skews what therapists come to see as “normal” or “universal”. And for disabled clients that disconnect is even sharper. I’ve been in therapy for years and have absolutely had experiences where my blindness was misunderstood or dismissed. Some therapists genuinely want to understand, others are clearly uncomfortable or avoidant. And like you said, when someone ends up teaching the therapist more than receiving support, the balance of the work is lost. That kind of labour shouldn’t fall on clients, but it often does.
That’s part of why I want to offer online and phone counselling once I’m qualified. I want to work with people who can’t do in-person sessions, who need flexible options, and who might have felt shut out or misunderstood by traditional services. I’m training as a counsellor (rather than psychologist) partly for this reason. Counsellors can set lower rates and work with a wider range of clients. I also plan to offer a sliding scale.
You’re right too about the term “disability specialist” being far too broad. It’s meaningless without context. Blindness is its own world, with distinct realities, and it can’t be lumped in with every other form of disability as if it’s all the same. I don’t know the answer but I do know that we need more disabled voices in therapy.