“Free!” reads a big pink sticker on the cover of this month’s Wired, on my waiting room table. My heart leaps. I’m still programmed to read “free” as no cost to me the consumer, gratis, a perk. A weird reaction, given that most of my use of “free” with my patients is about liberation, lightening of baggage, guilt, etc. I grab the issue and read it on the subway home.

Chris Anderson’s cover story Free: Why $0.00 is the Future of Business makes for a diverting trip into the world of web/tech economics. The heart of his thesis is that the price of technology (transistors, storage, bandwith) shrinks asymptotically to zero over time, and the two party, buyer/seller economic model gives way to other possibilities. For example, the commodity of on-line time bought and sold for profit gradually gives way to free exchange of web time, which facilitates the growth of other exchange opportunities, advertising, viral marketing growth, generation of trends, wants, desires, etc. Anderson argues that “free” (stuff, exchange, whatever) psychologically triggers enthusiasm in a way that even “very cheap” cannot.

Don’t get me wrong, I find most economic models confusing and frustrating. But I couldn’t help but link this to trends in psychotherapy. So many patients are looking for a deal, a plan, a comprehensive package, a system. They see/feel something wrong, a relationship, job, situation, and they want a plan to fix it, preferably an affordable (financially and emotionally) and time-limited plan. Not surprisingly, this demand sparks a hefty supply of options, from self-help books (7 steps to a better this or that) to better studied an proven cognitive therapy modalities. These plans can be really effective tools in managing problems, even emotional or cognitive response patterns, but they seem to follow a two-party, buyer-seller system. If I pay (in money, energy, commitment), I will be paid off in results, problems solved.

 I feel this most acutely when, at the end of a session, a patient asks me “What’s the plan? What do I do?” Sometimes there is a plan. Talk to your husband. Take a break from your mother. Don’t do that anymore. But, more often, the desire for a plan is about anxiety. And the offering up of a simple plan can be a reactionary bandaid for that anxiety. That reactionary offer (“Here. Do x, y, and z, and you’ll be fine”) risks shutting down mulling over other options, really understanding the patterns. Just like a business that thinks small, buyer-seller, and misses the opportunity to expand. “Free” comes in when you stop looking for a plan, a deal, a solution, but rather zoom out, and think about bigger questions. What do I like, how do I process, what slows me down? And, ultimately, how do I freely access all these and other questions? GD