War & Trauma: A Short Interview with Dr. Tim Lewis
As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve been working for several years now on (what I consider to be) a ground breaking book on trauma and the cycle of violence.
Tim Lewis’ new book Daddy, published by my company rose + spiral, dives into complicated questions of agency in the cycle of abuse. We all know hurt people hurt people, but why? And how? Are people in control as they are abusing others? What if they aren’t? What would that change about the way we treat, heal, or punish abusive people? When people are being traumatized, they are essentially being partitioned like a hard drive— with one person experiencing the abuse, and the other person safe inside, hidden in some other part of their head. When they abuse someone else days, weeks, or years later, they are essentially letting out that abused person to relive the abuse by committing it on someone else. By diving into his own trauma, American history, and healing methodologies, Tim weaves an intricate tapestry of trauma out of the collective consciousness. It’s really worth a read.
As a publisher and editor, there’s this part of me that wants to focus on underprivileged and underpublished voices. Does anyone need another book by a white, male psychologist? Maybe it’s the fact that he’s gay, maybe it’s the fact that his specific trauma is so shocking and impactful, and maybe it’s just his brilliant prose, but I truly feel like it’s the writing we need from white men.
He explores racism in his hometown, Kansas City, the indigenous people who orioginally settled there and were decimated, the military industrial complex, homophobia, misogyny, and other elements which he believes played integral role in the eventual murder-suicide of his parents while he was in the same house.
In this post, I simply ask Tim some questions that are on my mind, especially in relation to war (since some of his book is about war PTSD and its implications), and see what insight and perspective he might be able to offer. If you like what you read, let me know, and I plan to do a few more interviews with him.
Josh: How do you hope individuals receive your book?
Tim: Trauma survivors or those with loved ones coping with trauma often feel isolated. I hope readers can see themselves in my story and come away with a more informed understanding of these disorders and their treatment.
Josh: What does it feel like sharing such an intimate story with the world at such a time?
Tim: It’s an extraordinary mix of emotions. I badly want my story to be read and discussed, but sometimes, I’d like to hide under the bed when the next interview is coming up. As I discuss in the book, for me —and many people out there— genuinely being seen has often come at the price of abandonment or humiliation. So there’s that!
Josh: One line of inquiry that really interested me in your book was the difference between traumatic events and what you call the “regular awful of life.” Everyone seems to have a trauma these days. I don’t mean to diminish that either; we live in a traumatizing society. But what are we to make of the fact that sometimes life itself seems traumatizing, insofar as intense events imprint themselves on our nervous systems and we’re stuck living in the past in our reactions? Is there any downside to the colloquialization of “trauma,” in the way that someone might say Mission Impossible 7 was so bad it traumatized them?
Tim: Consciously registering that we have a reaction informed by a past experience is a natural and unavoidable product of being human —it can give us a leg up by making us more of an observer of uncomfortable thoughts and feelings rather than a passive victim fused with our emotions. It’s a spectrum depending on how deep and pervasive these automatic reactions are, with trauma being on the extreme end of the continuum. I certainly appreciate the sentiment that everyday life can be traumatizing, but the idea of being “stuck living in the past” based on our biology paints a pretty grim picture. This perspective overlooks the reality of neuroplasticity —the ability to grow new neural pathways over a lifetime— and the emotional flexibility built into our psychology. The word trauma is definitely having a cultural moment that, in some cases, trivializes the severity of actual trauma. Sometimes, this represents a genuine misunderstanding of the disorder, and depending on the situation, some education is in order. A lot of people tell me they had a panic attack. Nine times out of ten, they had an episode of intense anxiety —not an actual panic attack. We need to pick and choose our battles, and playing word police can often detract from the fact that people are often simply trying to find new and evocative ways to express themselves.
Josh: A not insignificant part of the book focuses on PTSD research and its connection to war. In the book, you observe that for more than a century, Western research into PTSD had only the goal of preparing soldiers to get back out on the battlefield. Trauma would become a hot topic after wars as traumatized young men returned home and then faded away until the next war. Only recently has it become a term with broader household meanings and implications.As a Jew having read your book, the destruction of Gaza in the weeks following Hamas’ attack seems to be a prime example of the trauma cycle. Hurt people, hurting people. From both sides, we are dealing with people who have been raised in warring, militarized, and aggressive environments, both with violently traumatic pasts. I’m not asking you to make peace in the Middle East, but are there any psychological dimensions you see that are missing from the general dialogue?
Tim: Most of us recognize that when a people or a nation views themselves to be in a fight for their lives, they are, by definition, acting under the dictates of a trauma response.
Under a trauma response, things are very black and white, and the ends —i.e., security, freedom, autonomy— purportedly justify the means. As such, it has become impossible to wade into this discussion without offending someone. If I address the trauma being inflicted on the people of Gaza, then I am vulnerable to being labeled by some as anti-Semitic. If I express support for Israel’s defense against the terrorist attacks, then I invite condemnation from the Arab world and their supporters. That type of straight jacket constricts dialogue, and in the case of someone like myself wanting to answer your question, it invites timidity, caveats, or watered-down evasions. As a White, non-Jew, it’s admittedly much easier for me to experience a greater emotional distance as these events unfold. I don’t have to face the specter of mass anti-Semitic violence like the L’Simcha Congregation synagogue shootings in Pittsburgh or anti-Muslim hate crimes like the murder of 6-year-old Wadea Al Fayoume last month in Joliet, IL. I’m horrified by the brutality and frightened by where this violence could lead us, but I am not experiencing an actual trauma response. As such, it’s my responsibility —and those like me— to provide a shoulder to lean on. That means exercising the mental flexibility at our disposal to allow for many different experiences and reactions without automatically canceling someone. To take the time to recognize and validate the role of fear driving micro and macro aggressions based on racial and ethnic identities. We need to muster all the compassion we can find in our bewildered hearts to be open to the stories and meanings of these racial and ethnic atrocities on an individual level and collective level.
Josh: Our country and world are getting more polarized. I daresay that one of the key differences between left-wing and right-wing people is that the left wing tends to be more trauma-informed and interested in undoing or exploring past wrongs, and the right wing tends not to want to dwell on the past and thinks therapy is silly. I’d love to know if you think this is accurate or a generalization. And if it’s accurate, in your estimation and understanding of trauma, how can we get through to one another to create a more cohesive society? Again, I’m not asking you to cure the world’s ills; I just know you have a unique and sharp analysis of these dynamics.
Tim: I don’t think we can overlook the role of faith in this calculus. Traditionally, religion was the space where ordinary people addressed what we now term the realm of the psychological. Historically, in the West, a better understanding of yourself and the world was to be found in the Bible. The answers were there, and if you were still confused or couldn’t read, you sought guidance from your priest, rabbi, or clergyman. And if all else failed, you just needed more faith in God’s plan.
Today, many people on the right don’t see a need for a middleman (i.e., a therapist) because they are guided by their understanding of the Bible and the views of their church and fellow congregants. Therapy —and understanding the self from a scientific perspective— is understandably viewed by some on the right as a threat to that belief system.
The therapeutic process invites relativism —the idea that knowledge, truth, and morality exist in relation to culture, society, or historical context and are not absolute. These opposing perspectives are the wellspring of the left/right conflict. Fear is driving both sides. And when fear is involved, rigidity follows. Moreover, the more you hang out with people with similar views, the more extreme your views will likely become. Unfortunately, social media has undermined our fragile shared sense of truth and reality, creating incredibly powerful echo chambers that amplify extreme views. AI will surely catapult us even further into a dangerous state of unreality. We’ve been saying for years that we must listen more to each other to help mitigate these processes.
It’s possible that listening and compassion have prevailed since we’ve not yet entirely gone off the rails.
Maybe I’m setting a low bar here, but in researching my book, I learned that during the Civil War, bands of Confederate-supporting vigilantes would roam the area where I grew up near Kansas City, murdering and scalping civilian Union supporters. One hundred years before I was born! We have come so far, but it’s always two steps forward, one step back.
Josh: What’s next for you? Is there another book hiding?
Tim: I’m working on a book about my daughter called “Gemma Can’t Play Hide-and-Seek.” They say to write what you know, and what I know in my life right now is that I am raising a person who has autism. I’m blown away by the explosion of autism spectrum disorders we are facing today. While the experiences of trauma survivors and parents raising a child with autism are very different, each is prone to a powerful sense of isolation. As with my book, Daddy, I hope to decrease this isolation by sharing my story —warts and all— while weaving in interviews with other parents to present a broader picture of the challenges and joys of caring for a child (or adult child) with the disorder.
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