Return of the Excluded Middle or Mini-Excursion into Transitional Space

Dutch anthropologist Johann Huizinga’s (1944/1955) landmark book, Homo Ludens asserts that all of culture comes from play. Winnicott (1999), a psychiatrist from the Object Relations school agrees, although he gets there a different way. Winnicott believes that “playing leads on naturally to cultural experience and indeed forms its foundation” (p 106). Winnicott initially developed his theory in 1951, and according to him, play arises in the in-between space, between the infant and the mother. This in-between space is neither wholly internal reality nor wholly external, but is located in a neither/nor realm of the imagination, and is at first created through illusion. Winnicott called this in-between space transitional or potential space. Transitional space is the place of playing between mother and baby.

At first, the infant is "almost fully adapted to" by the mother, meaning, that she provides what is needed almost immediately. This creates the illusion that the infant is magically in control and that merely to think of something causes that something to magically appear or happen. By being a “good enough” mother, the baby learns to trust the mother and this confidence in the mother, which is later introjected or internalized, allows a safe space for illusion. This safe space is important because without such a safe space, play cannot take place. Plaut in 1966 said “the capacity to form images and use them constructively by recombination into new patterns is—unlike dreams or fantasies—dependent on individual’s ability to trust,” and Winnicott (1999) notes that he understands trust in this context to mean “building up of confidence based on experience at the time of maximal dependence” (p. 102).

The mother’s job is then to gradually disillusion the infant, by not providing exactly what the baby wants on cue. In this way, the baby learns to substitute other things for the mother, in order to help hold the anxiety caused by not getting his needs satisfied instantly, in order to soothe himself. These other substituted things that represent the mother can be a thumb, a blanket, a stuffed animal, etcetera. The infant knows that these are not the mother, but they take the place of the mother and are very special to the infant. In this way, the child first uses symbols and later plays with the mother.

Winnicott (1999) refers to two different substituted things—transitional phenomena and transitional objects. Transitional phenomena include non-material things such as babbling, tunes, songs, mannerisms, etcetera. and these represent early stages of the use of illusion. “Transitional objects and transitional phenomena belong to the realm of illusion” (p. 14). Transitional objects are then different physical things that the infant uses as a substitute for the mother, as a symbol of her, to represent her in her absence. Transitional objects are especially indispensable during times of loneliness, at bedtime, or when a depressed mood threatens. Symbols then represent something absent and are the first way a baby plays.

Transitional objects are important not only because they are symbolic of or stand for the mother, but because they are real and are not the mother. “When we see an infant use a transitional object, their “first not me possession, we are witnessing both the child’s first use of a symbol and the first experience of play” (Winnicott, 1999, p. 96).

Transitional objects are a neutral area that will not be challenged. The baby has control over these objects, and can change or destroy them, but they need to be respected and not changed by anyone other than the baby. In other words, do not wash the blanket or the filthy dirty stuffed animal—you are messing with a transitional object, and this will be very upsetting to the child. Transitional objects are gradually decathected (a fancy way of saying that at some point we lose interest in them).

As previously mentioned, transitional space is the space between the inner reality of the child and the outer reality of external life. The intermediate area between subjectively perceived and objectively perceived, transitional space is the place of experiencing, a resting area that keeps inner and outer separate but interrelated. Winnicott (1999) notes:

The area of playing is not inner psychic reality, but is outside the individual, but it is not the external world. Into this play area, the child gathers objects from external reality and uses in service to some sample derived from inner or personal reality . . . the child puts out a sample of dream potential and lives with this sample in a chosen setting of fragments from external reality. In playing, the child manipulates external phenomena in the service of the dream and invests chosen external phenomena with dream meaning and feeling. (p. 51)

Winnicott (1999) contends that the “use of an object symbolizes union of two now separate things, baby and mother, at the point in time and space of the initiation of their separateness” (pp. 96-97). Babies use symbols of the mother in her absence, and are then gradually able to allow and benefit from separation, because the transitional object represents a “separation that is not separation but a form of union” (pp. 97-98). This dynamic then becomes the basis for inventiveness, the interplay between separation (originality) and acceptance of tradition (union). Symbols, and their first expression, transitional objects, allow us to become able to accept difference and similiarity, to clearly distinguish between fantasy and fact, inner and external objects. Winnicott believes that:

the task of reality acceptance is never completed, that no human being is is free from the strain of relating their inner world with outer reality, and that relief is provided by an intermediate area of experience (cf. Riviere, 1936) which is not challenged (arts, religion, etc.). This intermediate area is in direct continuity with the play area of a small child who is “lost” in play. (p.13)

Winnicott (1999) also believes that we value play and cultural experience because they “link the past the present and the future; they take up time and space. They demand and get our concentrated deliberate attention.” Through developing confidence in the mother, the baby is able to be confident in other things and people as well, which enables a “separating-out of the me and not-me. At the same time . . . that separation is avoided by filling in of the potential space with creative playing, with use of symbols and with all that eventually adds up to a cultural life” (p. 109).

Cultural experience, like play, is located in the potential space between individual and environment, and begins with play. Transitional phenomena leads to playing, and then gradually shared playing, which then becomes cultural experience.

Potential space only happens in relation to the feelings of confidence and safety on the part of the baby. Winnicott (1999) believes that potential space is sacred to the individual, because potential space is where an individual experiences creative living. If there is no safety, there can be no play. This is true not only for the infant, but for everyone. Potential space can only arise when there is experience that leads to trust.

The sharing of this intermediate area through play and cultural experience gives a common experience between people, a common ground from which they can relate to each other. Art, creative scientific work, philosophy, religion, and imaginative living all arise from and are an expression of this intermediate area. Since we previously saw that it is not nice to fool around with another’s transitional objects, we might keep this in mind with regard to religion. Perhaps we should have a “you go your way and I’ll go mine” attitude with religion, and not keep challenging each other’s religions. Just as we should not be trying to mess around with each others transitional objects, or try to change someone else’s transitional object or force our transitional object on another person, we might consider religion in the same light. As Winnicott (1999) suggests, religion is one of those in-between areas, and should perhaps be a neutral zone, off limits.

This is possibly why entertainment is so successful, because entertainment is not trying to change anybody. Entertainment is not serious, so we can just enjoy the shared experience together. We do not go to war with each other over different movies, or because we really like the original version of a movie, and someone else prefers the remake. One of the reasons why Disneyland is so successful is that Disney’s goal was to provide a shared experience that was not trying to change people, but to give them what they like. In Disneyland, Disney perhaps created the ultimate transitional space, and many of the characters that live in this space have become major transitional objects. Now let us see how Disney and his imagineers created this liminal place of illusion.

“C” ing How Disney Does It.

Care and Cleanliness

Disney’s creativity has a lot to do with the letter c, so let us “C” how Disneyland does it. Our first “C” is care, and in Disneyland, Disney created what cultural geographers call a “field of care”—“a place loaded with associations of familiarity and affection for the people who live there” (King 1981a, p. 129) or, in our case, visit there. Walt wanted to create a place that would accommodate large numbers of people in a courteous, efficient, and humane way, so that they would feel like welcome guests instead of customers. This was a revolutionary idea, because many of the older, more unpleasant amusement parks viewed people, not simply as customers but as “marks.” Disney wanted people to be able to relax and enjoy themselves and the world that he had created. He wanted them to be able to participate in it together, parents with their children. Disney’s whole approach was, according to Kaufman “to transmit pleasure and well-being to the public” (Finch, 1983, p. 432). Disney’s entertainment philosophy was very straightforward and consistent. Disney himself noted that there was

really no secret about our approach. We’re interested in doing things that are fun—in bringing pleasure and especially laughter to people. And we have never lost our faith in family entertainment—stories that make people laugh, stories about warm and human things, stories about historic characters and events and stories about animals. (K. M. Jackson, 1993, pp. 84-85)

Hench relates that “Walt Disney knew how to make people ‘feel better about themselves’ because he could make them ‘believe about themselves the way he felt about them’” (Findlay, 1993, p. 79). One way of doing this was to keep the place clean, our second “C.”

Disney really disliked the messy and untidy atmosphere of other amusement parks and felt that by keeping Disneyland clean and beautiful it would inspire people to be their best. Here is some advice Disney gave his designers: “Give the people everything you can give them. Keep the place as clean as you can keep it. Keep it friendly . . . make it a real fun place to be” (K. M. Jackson, 1993, p. 102); “just make them [the vehicles and attractions] beautiful and you’ll appeal to the best side of people. They all have it; all you have to do is bring it out” (Thomas, 1976, p. 254). The depths of Disney’s feeling about his park and what he hoped to create is expressed by his remarks to Billy Graham, after being told by the Reverend that Disneyland was “a nice fantasy.” Disney feeling wounded, replied:

You know the fantasy isn’t here. This is very real . . . the park is reality. The people are natural here; they’re having a good time; they’re communicating. This is what people really are. The fantasy is—out there, outside the gates of Disneyland, where people have hatreds and people have prejudices. It’s not really real. (Findlay, 1993, p 70)

Disneyland is famous for its cleanliness and physical attractiveness, and for the warm feelings that Disneyland produces, both its nostalgic appeal, as well as its caring considerate atmosphere as expressed above. According to Hench: “Disneyland is symbolic that all is right with the world. The guest walks through an atmosphere of order and cleanliness and comes away feeling that things must be all right after all” (Findlay, 1993, p. 78):

You are emboldened and soothed by the clean streets, smiling faces, happy colors and the implicit promise that here, at least, everything will be okay. It will be fun, you won’t get lost . . . indecision and anxiety make for tiredness. Figuring things out. Not knowing where to go and what to look at. Main Street makes no such demands on the pedestrian. Look at anything. Wander anywhere. Its better than any real street in any turn-of-the-century town ever had been, a vast stage, a film set with the tourist as the actor, comforted on all sides by familiar things that have somehow grown sweeter, gentler, more appealing than they ever were in… her own hometown. (Marling, 1997, p. 83)

Keep in mind that we are talking about the experience of the guests at Disneyland. Behind the scenes is a very different story, which centers on control and conformity to corporate policies. Bryman (1995, 2004) especially, covers this aspect in a very thorough way. Although “keeping it clean” usually meant the physical cleanliness of the park, it also alludes to the next “C,” complementariness—perhaps one of the most important “C’s” because the idea of complementariness encompasses so many things.

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