This note is written at the front of the Saturday afternoon audience at the Practical School for the Study of the Resort to Populism, next to the scholars who have come to converse with some psychoanalysts, and faced with their absence in the hall.
It’s true that they are tired, the very recent winter seminar has exhausted them. And besides, populism doesn’t interest them: it’s not clinical, is it?
The audience, nonetheless, is interested in them. That’s why they are now also absent from the shelves of the library dedicated to the students and researchers of a great university city of the east of France, cleaned out in one night of fifty or so works that represented them and without anyone knowing who had given the order. They are absent from the treatment of childhood autism, which a law was soon going to make official, if, once again, I had not stirred, on the very eve of the ballot, with Lola carrying a two hundred page document that she had quickly put together.
But it is also true that psychoanalysts are not in the habit of working since it’s the patient who does that for them; and they do not even make themselves the boss of this worker, that would not be their ethics. Neither worker, nor boss, what are they in society? Nothing, I tell you, in order to not enrich the theme, and it is no doubt for that reason that they accept in advance that the political regime ratifies the fact that they have evacuated all by themselves, even before their exclusion came to be sealed. I presume from their reaction that they will be indignant about being treated according to their own vow. That would be an excess.
Translation : Michael Plastow