Preface 

by Anne Kohlhaas

From the very beginning of my T.A. career I have been especially interested in the theory and practice of Strokes. So I was glad to meet Claude Steiner personally at the European T.A. Summer Conference in Enschede/Netherlands in 1976. 

At the International T.A. Summer Conference in San Francisco/U.S.A. in 1977 we met again. Since then we stayed in close contact and Claude has been accepting my regular invitations to run workshops in the Black Forest for my T.A. Training Institute. 

It's now more than 14 years that we have been talking about and discussing T.A. topics, so it was a great pleasure to me to be able to interview Claude Steiner. 

The first to act upon the idea to interview some of the people from the early days of T.A. who were around Eric Berne was my T.A. colleague Bernd Schmid, who interviewed Fanita English. 

For me, Claude, who developed part of the basic T.A. theory (e.g. script matrix, stroke economy, banal scripts of women and men), is not only one of the most important men around Eric Berne, but also an active transactional analyst who is constantly adding political and social dimensions to his theories. Some of these ideas are embodied in his books, such as: A Manual on Cooperation, The Other Side of Power,  and When a Man Loves a Woman. 

I interviewed Claude Steiner on Dec. 14, 1989 in Zürich/Switzerland and on Dec. 3, 1990 in WaldkirchGermany. 

Waldkirch, June 1991

Dr. Anne Kohlhaas-Reith

 On Claude's Relationship with Eric

 Anne: Maybe you'd like to tell me something about your beginnings with T.A., your meeting with Eric Berne.

 Claude: I was getting a Bachelor's degree in psychology at the University of California at Berkeley and I was a counselor at the Berkeley Jewish Community Center, working with children. My supervisor, Ben Handelman, was a social worker and occasionally we'd go out in the evenings. One day he said, "I just went to a meeting in San Francisco, with this funny psychiatrist, kind of interesting, and he has meetings every Tuesday, so why don't we go?" And I said, "Sure, let's go", so we went. There was an apartment house, a few blocks from Chinatown and people were meeting in the living room sitting on couches and chairs. After the meeting we stood around and talked and he asked me to come back and I did regularly -until he died, except for five years when I was getting my psychology doctorate in Ann Arbor.

 Anne: But at that time, wasn't Berne living in Carmel?

 Claude: His main house was in Carmel, but he rented an apartment in San Francisco, and he saw clients there. So every Monday evening he would come from Carmel, and spend until Wednesday in San Francisco. Tuesday evening was the seminar. Eventually he asked me to drive him on Wednesday mornings so I was delighted and I began to pick him up every week and drove him to St Mary's hospital where he had a group supervision session with the staff, followed by a group therapy session on the closed ward and then an outpatient group. Then we had lunch at the hospital cafeteria and I drove him back to his apartment. 

Anne: What kind of relationship did you have with Eric? 

Claude: As long as I was with him, I followed him around, and listened to everything he had to say. Taking every opportunity I had to be present, to see what he did and how he did it. And I would go to one after another 101, I didn't care how many times I heard him say the same thing because it was always different.

I don't think he thought that he was training me. I would observe his group, we would talk about the group afterwards, he would let me take his group, he would have me present on his group and my groups and he would comment on it. And while I was observing, he would let me gradually do more and more. At first you just had to listen and then maybe you could say a few things and then maybe you could take a whole half-an-hour of the group. That's the way he trained. And that's the way I train. And then of course going to the seminar was a constant training situation.

 Anne: Did he expect that his trainees have personal therapy? Or did he do it sometimes?

 Claude: No I didn't have personal therapy as part of my training. And for a long time that wasn't a requirement for T.A. It was up to you, not to the training. 

Anne: That's still true today but it's an unofficial requirement. I think also it's a useful requirement for becoming a psychotherapist. 

Claude: Its professional elitism that somehow believes: "I am different, I am a therapist, I don't need therapy. Therapists don't need therapy." It's part of the professionalism that requires that you be above the patient. That as far as the patient is concerned, you don't have a private life, you don't have any feelings, you're just a kind of a...

Anne: non-person.

 Claude: But Eric was really not that way, you know, he was as unpompous as it was possible for somebody of his age to be at that time. I don't think he ever trained anybody any other way but I don't think he trained that many other people. I made myself more or less indispensable. I took care of all the recording at all the Tuesday seminars, so I was always there at the beginning, always there at the end, always there. If he needed to be driven anywhere, I would do it so we would then have a chance to talk. During the time that I was with him we were like pals, like friends, talking about things. He enjoyed my personality, I enjoyed his. And I would ask him questions, and we would talk. It was one of the most absolutely wonderful things that anybody could ever have, that kind of a relationship with a teacher.

 Anne: So you had a close and friendly relationship?

 Claude: It was a discipleship. It was close, it was friendly and it was not acknowledged. It was not like, "Here's my friend, Claude," that was not something he would say. It was typical of Eric that he wouldn't talk about such things. It just was.

 Anne: So in some way you were like a friend and in some ways...

 Claude: I was like a chauffeur. I was like an apprentice and I was like a confidant about his little sexual pecadillo’s, you know. I helped him buy a car; a big sexy Maserati convertible. He was a teacher, father, big brother, sexy kind of kidding around type of pal. But most of all I was there, I was available.

 Anne: So the picture I get is that you were very close with him, and from some of the things you said, and that I read about him, he didn't talk about his private life. So the closeness came out of professional discussions and of actually being together.

 Claude: But I have to say, occasionally his defences would break down and he would talk about his private life, about his son, his daughter, or his wife, he would break through and then it would be over.

 Anne: The next day it was like nothing had happened?

 Claude: He wouldn't continue. I think he knew that he said what he said, and it was okay with him.

 Anne: What kind of people were getting training from him? What kind of professions did they have? ... Did that matter?

 Claude: Psychiatrists, social workers, psychologists, probation officers, nurses...

 Anne: What do you think was his greatest influence on your life?

 Claude: He gave me permission to write. It would have never occurred to me to write. Eventually, he prefaced Games Alcoholics Play,  something he did for only one other writer, Jacqui Schiff. He really let me know that he thought that I was very intelligent and creative, so he gave me permission to write and to think about creative things. He stimulated my creativity with his attitude. The first thing he did is ask me to write a chapter in his third edition of the laymen's guide, he asked me to write something about alcoholism, and I did, and I thought it was OK, and he thought it was terrible. 'It may really have been very badly written because I really didn't know how to write. He said he spent hours and hours rewriting it and making it possible to use it. And then he decided to only use parts of it and, in my opinion at the time, he didn't credit me properly for it... I was very mad at him. So we had a big argument about that, I brought the matter up at the seminar. And the way he dealt with it was that he told a story about an Indian chief that asked one of his braves to collect some leaves for a fire. The brave came back with some leaves that were all wet, and the chief tried to start a fire with them but he couldn't. He never told me, "look you didn't write well, you made grammatical errors, etc". He never dealt with it directly. He was quite an eccentric. He also taught by negative example, in a way, by doing things I decided I would try not to do.

 Anne: How do you define yourself with respect to T.A.? Like co-founder of T.A.?

 Claude: No. I'm definitely not a co-founder. He founded T.A. without any co's, there were no co's. I was, I am a disciple. Period. I took his theory and extended it in a creative direction.

 Anne: Well, anyway you had a large influence on the development of T.A.

 Claude: I had an influence while he was inverting it and, certainly after he died, but in relation to him, I was his disciple. But a disciple is not a passive person, a disciple contributes, a disciple argues and a disciple makes problems and has his own point of view, but still it's all within a discipleship, I mean it never for a second occurred to me to abandon him or go away or contradict him or secede; he was my teacher.

 Anne: He was the authority?

 Claude: Yes, but that's the least of it you know? He was an admired, loved, wise teacher. In fact the authority part I didn't like at all, I rebelled against it. He was just so smart, so wise, so clever, so admirable, so devoted and so willing to teach me, that I was totally his. Completely at his disposal.

 Anne: How did you earn your living in these days when you were very occupied?

  Claude: I was a therapist, very busy, but I kept days open to spend with him, Tuesday evenings and Wednesdays I was devoted to whatever he needed from me and if he needed anything on the weekends I would make time. But he also kept that within limits and rarely extended our contact beyond the usual routine. And by the way, there was never any question of paying him or him paying me.

 I used to have dreams about Eric, but I haven't had one in a long time. I would suddenly run into him in the street and it was as if he had gone on a trip and now was back. They were very vivid and emotional dreams, I would cry on his shoulder and tell him that I loved and missed him. I have a friend, a woman who was in the seminar in the later years and was good friends with Eric too.

She's a little bit of a witch, and thinks that I should call Eric and try to have a dream about him again. "Put something next to your bed that will attract him," she suggested. I decided on a can of Seven-Up. But I've never done it.

 Anne: It's a very special relationship.

 Claude: Fascinating, fantastic. I have had that relationship with a few people, where I was the teacher. It seems there are always people, who, for some amazing reason, do not care how many times they have heard me say something. That's how I felt about Eric. When I see that I have somebody who is like that, then if I think they are really talented, then I just make myself available, and I'll ask them, "Will you take my group? Will you read this paper? Will you help me with this paper work?", and they're just delighted to do it and to follow me around just as I did Eric.

 Anne: Hm. It sounds like he was your master like in the eastern philosophies.

 Claude: It's obviously a very ancient and effective way of teaching. And for the teacher it's wonderful, because you're giving the most intimate, the most secret knowledge with a real loving feeling; in exchange you're getting a person who will help you do things with great joy. Of course, you have to treat a disciple with respect, I mean, you don't exploit them, but you share things that are really useful for them, and for you.

 Anne: So it's a very personal way to train people.

 Claude: It's as serious as a five to seven-year love affair with somebody.

 Anne: Hm... Like raising children, but in a professional field.

 Claude: Eventually, they find their own way, and they may even slightly reject you, you know and for a while they may not talk to you, but then they come back. You do it because here's a very intelligent, very eager person, who's willing to help you, and who's willing to talk to you about things and discuss things, listen to you, read your stuff and give you feedback. It's very utilitarian, it's a very, very, useful, and at the same time it's a very soulful relationship. And when, if at the end, they leave, that's okay, you don't expect more than that. And if they're mad at you it's a little bit amusing, you know? You wonder, "Why, are they mad at me?", but then you realize that people who are dependent have to get mad to get away, so it's all kind of alright. 

On Eric's Views on Therapy 

Anne: Did Eric believe that you can cure people? 

Claude: He said to me once he didn't think you could change your script. And yet he also seemed to believe in people just giving up their script, immediately. "When you stop playing games, you're game free, spontaneous, aware and intimate." So he was ambivalent. I really think that was a part of him, the Adult believed you could, and another part, probably the Child but also maybe the Parent did not believe that people really changed. I think that's typical of a person who's got a static view in which, in order to encompass reality, you have to choose between contradictory points of view. He did not have a dialectical attitude about the process of cure. But that's how people looked at reality in those days. He didn't strike me as being different from any of my professors, he was just a brilliant and interesting person.

 Anne: What is the aim of therapy in your opinion?

 Claude: Well, in Eric's opinion, which is also my opinion, it's to cure the patient or to be a little less flamboyant, to complete the contract. 

Anne: Flamboyant? 

Claude: Flamboyant means colorful. Eric was colorful, you know, he said everything in the most colorful possible way. To say "to cure the client, to cure the patient" was almost sacrilegious in the days that he was saying it.

 Anne: At that time only improvement was expected.

 Claude: I don't know what the task of the therapist WAS but it certainly was NOT to cure the client. And anyone who said that would be accused of having delusions of grandeur.

 Anne: Can you give a definition of cure? 

Claude: If you make clear what the contract is, then the cure is when the person says, "Yes, I believe that what I wanted to have, whatever it was: to be happier or to stop drinking or whatever has been accomplished." 

Anne: So cure does include a change?

Claude: Well it has to. If a person comes in for therapy I assume that he or she wants to change something, otherwise I wouldn't be interested. So, yes a significant change.

 Anne: And what do you think can be changed in the person's life or what cannot be changed?

 Claude: Well, there are few things that can't be changed. They are organic as in organic brain damage or organic biochemical imbalance or genetic diseases. I'm speaking of schizophrenia in the few cases when it is genetic, or bipolar mood disorders which may be biochemical and even genetic in origin, or mental retardation. But even in those cases significant changes can happen but the diseases themselves can't be cured through psychotherapy. But I want to add that those types of diseases are uncommon and also very dramatic. Often curable conditions get labeled incurable, a lot oftener than vice-versa.

 Anne: And what do you think concerning psychological changes like the psychological structure of a person or to say it in T.A. words: concerning script changes?

 Claude: I think that people can make script changes, very significant script changes. There's some kind of a character pattern that won't change but you can make really profound changes within that.

 Anne: If I could have asked Eric Berne the same questions how would he have answered them?

 Claude: He would have said that the purpose of therapy is to cure the patient and he would have said that cure has to do with the contract, I am sure of that.

 Anne: In the literature Berne's sentence "cure him or her in one session" is mentioned.

 Claude: This was another flamboyant expression designed to give the message that we should keep the objective of therapy-cure-in the focus of our awareness. He felt that some kind of magic could occur wherein a sentence would somehow penetrate to the core of the neurosis and turn it around on it's head.

 Anne: Like a positive trauma?

 Claude: Yes, but it's much more elegant and based on information rather than on a physical impact. Like an informational key that opens the door to the magic kingdom. He believed that. I think that after you do therapy for a while and if you're very good at it, on occasion you experience that people will change based on one, two or ten well placed words that you say. But from my point of view the reason for that is that they were absolutely ready to make a change. They were ready to jump across the gap and you just gave them the extra push. So you were lucky to be there at that moment and they were lucky you were there because if you might have said the wrong thing it would have pushed them back instead. But that's not magic. I don't know whether he realized that or not. I think he might have thought that there's some very mysterious power of the word that could really change things, very very dramatically. So those were the one-word cures. On the other hand he seemed to also believe that you can't really change your script at all. So he was definitely split. 

Anne: My explanation for his sentence cure done in one session was in connection to a specific contract and a specific goal for change. 

Claude: He believed that the therapist should be constantly concerned about curing the patient and should plan to do it in the shortest possible time. So when he says "in one session" he just means think about the cure and try to do it as quickly as possible, if possible in one session. But that does not exactly mean that he expects you will succeed every time. Quite the contrary, in 99% of the cases it will not but you should continue to try to cure the patient in the very next session.

 Anne: Did he ever give examples of quick cures?

 Claude: Not really. It was clear that he was not trying to say "I can cure people in one session and you should, too." He did give examples of saying magical things that brought about major changes. I think he even presented, in one of his seminars, a one-session cure as an example of how you can do that but it was never in some way to show that he could do it and that everybody should.

I have done that. For instance, I had a client who was an artist and wanted to become a responsible bread-winner. I mean he was an artist and he would get drunk and depressed and sloppy and spend money he didn't have, you know. One day he asked "What should I do?" And I said, "Get a wristwatch and wear it every day." "What?", he said and I said, "Yes, put on a wristwatch and I think your life will change." He hated the idea because it was totally not him, it was completely against his style of life to wear a watch. So this was really a bull's-eye; in America we call a direct hit a bull’s-eye. He finally put on a wrist-watch and it wasn't a one-session cure but five years later he came to me and he said, "The most important thing you said to me was put on a wrist-watch because it completely changed my attitude about everything and I suddenly understood what it was like to earn a living."

 Anne: He changed his frame of reference in putting on the wrist-watch?

 Claude: He still had to do a lot of work in therapy but somehow it made a tremendous difference; it changed the way he looked at everything.

 Anne: I think that there are many influences for or against change, the biological aspects of a person, the society he lives in, his intelligence, his environment ... If I live in Eritrea, I have only a few chances for change.

 Claude: Well that's true too. The fact is, that people often don't have the opportunity for change. But even if you have all of the opportunities and teachings, there are still certain things that are not going to change.

For instance, I am very thrifty with money. I don't spend money easily. So I started out being "Geizig" and "Kleinlich" - the words are from my childhood - and now, fifty years later, I still don't spend money easily, but I'm not geizig and kleinlich anymore although I still have that character trait of being financially conservative, I would say. I don't think I'm ever going to change that. I've worked very hard on being generous, and not worrying about money, but, you know, it's still there, and that doesn't go away. I hoped it would, but its OK, I've changed it from a bad feature to something which is an asset to a certain extent. Now the woman I live with is the one to be generous: she helps me spend my money and I help her save hers.

 Anne: In some way the change is really: deal with it differently.

 Claude: Eric seemed to think about character traits that you either have them or you give them up. But I think that people modify the script rather than give it up. It's like a spiral thing, you go round and round and with every turn you are in the same place but higher, or lower. You've always got the same script, but it becomes less and less harmful.

 Anne: It also depends on whether you use the word script only for pathology or also for healthy information or experiences. I'm also impressed by the point that script change is very important with seriously ill people. For over I5 years I've been doing psychotherapy.

I met people, many of them were not my clients, but when I worked in the hospital. I met people with alcohol problems or other types of abuse, and many of these people died in the meantime, when they were clean and sober, of cancer. So I said, they've stopped drinking, but they're not cured. They went on to their destructive script end, which they fulfilled not by abuse but by illness, accident, etc. instead. So I really believe it's a serious point to look at when doing therapy with clients, and not to be satisfied with superficial changes.

 Claude: I see that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in the case of scripts either. People can only go so far away from where they started and I think that's also what happened with Erie. He started as a psychoanalyst and didn't end up so far away from that. He got as far away as he could, and somebody else had to go further. And I can't go so far away from where I started either. That's how it is. But in the process you can make some tremendous changes and improvements. I don't know, psychologically or emotionally, what improvements Eric made in his personal life. I don't know that much about his personal life, but I read in his biography (Eric Berne; Master Gamesman  by Elisabeth W. and Henry I. Jorgensen) that he did some very strange stuff with his first wife, it appears. And he seemed to be still doing strange things with women when he died. But maybe he was better, I hope so.

 Anne: Even today, many people don't believe that you can change.

 Claude: Things have improved though. The cultural background against which people are practising therapy these days is so different from what it was when he started working on his theories. I think at this point it's even gone a little overboard, in the direction of people believing any change is possible, that you can do anything. I went through that phase for a short while but don't believe that anymore. I've come back to realizing that people actually don't change, in a certain sense. There are certain things that get transformed, but-you know, if the person is a certain way, then they're gonna be that way, and there's no point in trying to change that. The point is to make the person effective, given that immutable core. And by this I mean effective; I dont mean resigned or brave as in "living with alcoholism or schizophrenia." That is one of the things Eric emphasized; that he thought that we should try to cure schizophrenia not just make "brave schizophrenics."

On Eric's Therapeutic Method

Anne: Tell me some more how Berne did therapy. How he used contracts and how lie used theory like in his mind.

Claude: He would come in to group and there was no really particular way in which he would start. Maybe he wouldn't say anything. Maybe he would say something to somebody, ask a question. It was very random. A conversation would start, maybe somebody would say something, and he would ask a question to investigate more, and then he would sit on his hands, he would have his pipe clenched in his mouth, he would close his eyes and drop his head and listen to what the person was saying, just sitting there -until the person was done, and then he would look up, and he would say something like, "I think you should stop wearing white socks" or he would give a little T.A. lecture at the blackboard explaining what he saw. "Look: You said this and this is your Child, and you said this as an Adult and if you do this and this and this then this will happen." What he said was usually fascinating and often surprising. And then he would sit down and somebody else might talk. But he would tend to concentrate on one person at a time.

Anne: And the others were still?

Claude: Yes. There was a period of time where they didn't talk. But then after a while they started talking. It was like, first he talked but then somebody might make a comment, he was very open to people speaking and he would pull back if they did and he would listen to what was going on. And then some other person would start to work. It was a very informal process. Any time there was a comment that would possibly be an occasion to talk about a game that was being played; if somebody was playing Rescuer or Victim he would allow a period of interaction because it would be a source of data for him.

Anne: Is it true that Eric Berne secretly continued to do psychoanalysis?

Claude: Secretly?

Anne: Yes, or openly?

Claude: More openly than secretly. He called it script analysis. He would have the patients lie down on the couch and tell him things. Technically speaking, was that psychoanalysis? I don't know, but it was on the couch, one to one and had a strong psychoanalytic flavor. I think he believed that you did transactional analysis in groups, and psychoanalysis with a strong script analysis flavor on the couch.

Anne: And in the group did he do mainly group treatment, like dealing with the group process? Or is it like many today, who do individual treatment within the group?

Claude: I often observed his groups, and also took over his group when he was gone, and yes-one person would talk, he might spend a whole hour with one person. If somebody didn't speak up, that was their problem but most of the time he would go from one person to the next. I'm different, I let everybody have a turn, limit each person's time and try to take care of everyone. He had no such feelings.

 Anne: And didn't much care about the group interaction?

 Claude: He was interested, but he didn't much care about making it happen. It happened anyway. He would let anything happen, and then take it philosophically if someone got mad at him. The group was like an event, during which he did therapy with people.

 Anne: Adult-Adult?

 Claude: Yes, Adult-Adult discourse, but a lot of intuition on his part. He didn't explain much, though. Like when he said:

"What I think you should do is stop wearing white socks."

"What? What do you mean? Why do you say that?"

"Think about it! Do it, see what happens!"

Or he'd get up and draw a diagram, saying what I think you're doing is... So he was either didactic or cryptic.

 Anne: And how did he make the decision who went to group or individual therapy?

 Claude: I don't know, I think everybody went to group. His practice was a group therapy practice.

 Anne: The idea of using contracts-how did this develop?

 Claude: I don't know. I think that the whole thing started from the feeling of exasperation that he had in psychoanalysis where there was no expectation of cure. When he left psychoanalysis and he started doing therapy, I think he said, "In my theory we're going to cure people." Plus he also had an attitude about psychiatrists vis-a-vis other physicians. He told a joke: "What's the difference between an internist, a surgeon, and a psychiatrist? An internist knows everything and does nothing, a surgeon does everything and knows nothing, and a psychiatrist knows nothing and does nothing." So he had this feeling that psychiatrists didn't do anything, that they just sat there, and he didn't like that, and he also said that a real doctor cures people. So whoever cures people is a real doctor and whoever doesn't cure people is not a real doctor, even if he's a physician. And so anybody can be a doctor if she or he can cure people. That's how psychologists, and social workers, and anybody who cures people was a real doctor in his mind. And then at some point he must have said, the contract is to cure people. And then I think from there he went to how do you make a contract? Or what's a cure? I don't know when it first comes up, the idea of a cure. It may have been during the time that I was gone in Michigan or maybe earlier.

 Anne: Because at some time you wrote about contracts.

 Claude: Once he wrote about contracts I decided that we should talk about them in the legal sense. That article about contracts was a very fruitful little exploration, basically an exercise in analysis.

 Anne: It's still useful today.

 Claude: He was very encouraging with that kind of a thing; you take something and you play with it intellectually and try to figure out where it goes and where it comes from and what happens to it. There are always good results from those types of exercises and intellectual games, as long as you don't take them too seriously; I've seen people try to write whole books from a little exercise like that.

 Anne: I'll come back to the group therapy Berne was doing: did he also give home exercises?

 Claude: Homework? Yes. That was definitely his idea. People were supposed to do things between sessions. His homework was not very consequent necessarily. It was part of the magical approach. It wasn't like the kind of homework I would do. For instance, if the homework is getting strokes you go to the coffeehouse and you start conversations with several people, that type of sensible approach. His, again, was a little more cryptic: "I want you to go home and I want you to stand on your head for three minutes," or something that had a connection with the problem in his mind but it wasn't so clear why. 

Anne: Was he interested in the social context the person was living in? Family, work, income and things like that?

 Claude: In a transactional sense he was definitely interested in the people that you were with. Your wife, your father, your mother, your sister, your brother. But not in a social context sense: what kind of neighbourhood, was it poor, middle class, or rich. I don't think he found that terribly meaningful though he might be interested in it. 

Anne: Did he take into account what kind of influence the therapy might have on the social life of the client?

 Claude: Oh absolutely, that was the whole point of it. Therapy would affect your social life, your interactions, your transactions. 

Anne: That's why you said in the supervision today, "I would invite her husband, I want to see her husband." You take into account that there is a social system which is important.

 Claude: Yes, I think that's part of it.

 Anne: How was the therapy room in which Berne was doing therapy? 

Claude: It was his living room. His individual therapy he had up in one of the bedrooms he had made into a little office. There was a couch, and a desk, and some objects d’art, à la Freud.

Anne: Did he sit behind the desk?

Claude: No, he had a chair that he sat on.

Anne: And his clients sat on a chair, too?

Claude: Yes or they lay on the couch.

 Anne: But lying on the couch he did transactional analysis?

 Claude: I think he did script analysis. Exactly what he did I don't know; I think it was some kind of a modernized psychoanalysis.

 Anne: Do any tapes of his therapy exist?

 Claude: I don't think so. Of his group work there must be some tapes.

 Anne: Do you know where or how to get them?

 Claude: I think the archives in San Francisco would be the place to go and find out. Everything's been put there. There may be some tapes. No one knows what's in that box. It's a box of tapes and no one knows all that's in it. But maybe somebody has already archived it. There's a film of a therapy session that he did at a conference on a stage, but after it was released, one of the people that he worked with refused to have it shown any more so it was taken away. But I'm sure it could be gotten privately.

Anne: I'm interested to know more about how Berne dealt with the feelings of patients. 

Claude: His attitude about feelings was characterized by one of his famous phrases: "Feelings, smeelings, as long as you love your mother... ", you know, "Feelings are not what we're interested in." That was theoretical though he certainly mentioned them, he did not focus on them or have major discussions about them.

 Anne: Did he talk about transactions?

 Claude: He might talk about an angry transaction or a seductive transaction, a core transaction. In his responses to feelings his attitude was one of attentive tolerance. You felt that he was responding to the emotional content without talking about it. And he was kind; he wasn't rejecting like some people in the "rational" or cognitive therapies are about feelings. He was accepting of people's feelings as they were expressed but he didn't work with them.

 Anne: So my picture is ... he was sitting there silently, friendly, when the person was crying or upset but not encouraging the expression of those feelings.

 Claude: No, and he also wouldn't come up and hold your hand or get close. He would observe and he would wait until it was over and then he would make an Adult comment. He didn't encourage feelings, he didn't particularly analyse them, he let 'em pass.

 Anne: Did he talk about himself to clients?

 Claude: Never! Never!

 Anne: Like a traditional psychoanalyst!

 Claude: Never!

Anne: No information?

laude: Not only that, he would never talk about himself in his books. Yet, lot of the stories in his books are himself. And if you went up to him and said, Eric, is this you? ... Are you talking about yourself here?", he would never say ”yes it's me," he might say, "Well, perhaps" or something that would indicate to you that it was, but that you couldn't quote him. I think that was part of his professionalism. But it was also convenient for him; he wasn't comfortable talking about himself in any case.

Anne: And how did he call his clients, with their first names or their family names?

Claude: In his books he called them Mr. this and Mr. that, but in the session he called them by first name.

Anne: What kind of clients did he have?

Claude: Well-to-do, middle-class people, he also had a few very rich people, but he also worked in the hospital. He may have taken on a couple patients that didn't pay very much. I don't think money was a big issue for him, though he was a thrifty man.