Aaron Beck calls his biography the clearest example that psychotherapy really works. His path from a timid stuttering boy, the son of impoverished Russian emigrants, to one of the five richest and most influential psychologists in the world is the best proof of this.
Aaron Beck became famous not only as a talented scientist and inventor, but also as an excellent PR manager: first he created a direction — cognitive psychotherapy, and then untwisted it, turning it into a real trend.
“When I started practicing cognitive therapy, my financial situation took a turn,” says Aaron Beck.
Real success and recognition came to Beck on his 68th birthday, in 1989. And back in 1954, 33-year-old Dr. Aaron, who had just become a professor of psychiatry at the University of Pennsylvania, had great doubts about choosing a professional method. On the one hand, he resisted the growing enthusiasm of American psychologists for surgical techniques (including lobotomy), on the other hand, he was in no hurry and specialized in a less traumatic, but much more protracted direction — psychoanalysis, which in those years experienced a second wave of popularity in the United States.
By and large, none of these options suited Beck. But if he immediately abandoned the career of a psychosurgeon (“I couldn’t even think about it without a shudder. People with banal depression were pricked until they lost consciousness, they were given electric shocks, and as a result of a lobotomy they turned into zombies”), then he was engaged in psychoanalysis for some time until completely disappointed. “It is a great delusion to believe that the roots of psychological problems must be sought in childhood experiences,” wrote Beck. “It is much more important to understand what is currently happening in a person’s life, how he perceives himself and the world around him, in what key he thinks.”
Gradually, starting practice as a classical psychoanalyst, Aaron Beck switched to cognitive psychotherapy — his own technique, the foundations of which began to take shape right then. Compared to psychoanalysis, which usually lasted five to ten years, the sessions of his author’s direction (taking a maximum of 12 months) seemed incredibly fast. In an interview, Beck admitted: “After refusing to consult according to the Freudian method, the first thing I felt was anxiety for my material well-being. If I had remained a psychoanalyst, it would have been enough for me to have two or three regular clients in order to sign bills without looking at the numbers. When I started practicing cognitive therapy, my financial situation took a turn for the worse. After ten sessions, clients told me: “Doctor, thank you! I began to look at life differently, think differently about myself and others. I feel like I no longer need your help, all the best doctor!” And, satisfied, they left. And my income was melting before our eyes.
True, Beck’s anxiety soon dissipated. Cognitive therapy, which helped people go from depression to a positive solution to most problems in the shortest possible time, made Beck so popular that he could no longer worry about his financial situation. The method began to spread rapidly, and in America in the early 90s, visiting a cognitive psychologist became as fashionable as going to yoga.
Aaron Beck’s wife, Phyllis Whitman, has been a huge supporter for many years and still is. This friendly and quiet couple will celebrate a diamond wedding next year. They have four daughters, and the youngest, Judit, followed in her father’s footsteps. Today, it is she who leads the Beck Institute in Philadelphia (Beck Institute for Cognitive Therapy and Research by Philadelphia).
“When I first started practicing, I felt like a traveling salesman who sells some kind of universal remedy, some kind of snake fat,” recalls 88-year-old Aaron Beck today. recommendations. Today, my daughter, herself an excellent psychologist, heads the institute named after me. Isn’t this proof that cognitive therapy really changes lives for the better?