For Reich (1972 p. 126), the basic orientation remains in place even if severity of the neurosis is reduced. Patterns of behavior remain in place even if they appear less often or in a less dramatic manner. Ideally, strong patterns of behavior that get us in trouble when we are anxious are now used in a helpful way. The pattern doesn’t change—it just might be less disruptive:

. . . [T]he patient’s entire being undergoes a “change,” which is more apparent to people who do not often see the patient than it is to the analyst. The inhibited person becomes freer; the fear-ridden, more courageous; the overconscientious, relatively less scrupulous; the unscrupulous, more conscientious; but that certain indefinable “personal note” is never lost. It continues to show through, no matter how many changes are brought about. The overconscientious compulsive character will become reality oriented in his conscientiousness; the cured impulsive character will remain impetuous but less so than the uncured character; the patient cured of moral insanity will never take life too hard and will consequently always get through easily, whereas the cured compulsive will always have some difficulty because of his awkward­ ness. Thus, though these traits persist even after a successful character analysis, they remain within limits which do not constrict one’s freedom of movement in life to the extent that one’s capacity for work and for sexual pleasure suffer from them.

It is in this very powerful pull to remain unchanged at a fundamental level that we observe Reich’s holistic perspective in full operation. Like Feldenkrais, Reich views human behavior as a unified (and unifying) system that is not easily changed with regard to its fundament properties (homeorhesis).

Impact of Armor

I conclude my reflections on Reich’s character armor by pointing to the impact of the armor on the life of those who have clad themselves with this armor. In brief we know that character armor restricts movement and choice. Furthermore, it blocks the flow of energy and leads to the loss of energy—for considerable energy is required to contain anxiety. If the flow of energy is blocked, then there is little to combat the anxiety.

Put in other terms, character armor produces the “freeze” response that I wrote about in the first essay. We imagine lions (sources of anxiety), find these lions to be quite powerful and fast. As a result, we can neither fight the lion nor run away. Instead, we must “freeze” in place (hence the armor). This freeze, in turn, requires that our movement is restricted—and our choices limited. In this state of helplessness (and hopelessness) we are vulnerable to the attack of additional imaginary lions and to an even greater increase in anxiety. A vicious cycle is precipitated, leading not just to mental dysfunction but also the attack on physical health.

Reich (1972, pp. 82-83) offers his own insights:

[T]he character erects itself as a hard protective wall against the experiencing o! infantile anxiety and thus maintains itself, notwithstanding the great forfeiture of joie de vive which this entails. If a patient having such a character enters analytic treatment because of some symptom or other, this protective wall continues to serve in the analysis as a character resistance; and it soon becomes apparent that nothing can be accomplished until the character armor, which conceals and consumes the infantile anxiety, has been destroyed.

The central question can again be broached: can the character amor be “destroyed.” Can the Tin Man actually discard his armor. What remains of the Tin Man when the armor is removed?