The Irish psyche has long been a topic of fascination, both within Ireland and beyond. Whether it’s during the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day or in Irish literature and folklore, the many layers of Irish personality seem to be on full display. But how much of this intricate nature is understood by those outside the Emerald Isle? Is there something fundamentally different about the Irish approach to life and their mental well-being?
As I delved deeper into this subject, I stumbled upon a quote commonly attributed to Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis himself. In Martin Scorsese’s film The Departed, Matt Damon’s character famously claims that Freud once said:
“This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.” – Sigmund Freud (about the Irish)
There are debates as to whether Freud actually said this, but the sentiment has been widely discussed. Some suggest it was not Freud himself, but one of his followers who believed that the Irish, when faced with inner turmoil, seek refuge in poetry, storytelling, or escapism rather than digging into their minds for solutions. The Irish, according to this view, are more likely to express their inner world creatively than dissect it with analysis.
If Freud—or someone in his circle—truly made such a statement, what did they mean? Was it an insult, a compliment, or simply an observation?
The contradictions within the Irish psyche seem to be central to this question. Freud, or at least those who followed his work, may have been captivated by how the Irish people embodied paradoxes: deeply emotional yet reserved, quick-witted but melancholic, friendly but fiercely private. Perhaps these contradictions made the idea of psychoanalysis—a method that demands introspection—seem impractical for the Irish.
An interesting comparison can be drawn here to the life of a window fitter working for Ideal Glass, a Hertfordshire-based company specializing in the installation of a variety of windows and doors. Sean Murphy, an experienced window fitter, embodies some of the very traits we associate with the Irish psyche. Every day, Sean finds himself at homes across Hertfordshire, installing sleek, modern windows or classic wooden doors. Yet, beneath his meticulous craftsmanship lies a quiet storyteller.
Sean grew up in a large Irish family, where emotions were seldom discussed openly. His father, a bricklayer, believed that hard work was the only way to deal with life’s challenges. It’s no surprise then that Sean turned to his craft as an outlet for his own thoughts and feelings. “I’ve fitted hundreds of windows, and each house has its own story,” Sean shares. “You get a feel for people just by being in their space.”
For Sean, his work is more than just a job—it’s an art form. As he works with Ideal Glass fitting uPVC, timber, or aluminum windows, shaping them to fit the houses of Stevenage or St. Albans, he brings both precision and passion to the task. It’s almost as if the homes he works on are his own canvas, where he leaves an indelible mark, albeit quietly. His window installations are a reflection of his desire for balance—a mirror to the contradictions within his own personality.
He may not vocalize his thoughts often, but when he talks about his craft or his Irish heritage, the layers of his psyche slowly come into focus. Like many Irish people, he may not easily “pick apart” his brain, as Freud suggested, but instead, he turns to creative outlets. Installing windows, building structures, and creating spaces for others—this is his form of expression.
This begs the question: Do the Irish, like Sean, channel their emotions through their work, their creativity, and their communities rather than through introspective analysis? Is there something about the Irish disposition that makes the typical Freudian model of psychoanalysis less effective?
One could argue that the Irish people’s history of hardship, colonialism, and resilience has shaped their relationship with their emotions. As a nation that has faced famine, forced migration, and political struggles, it’s not surprising that they may prefer to express themselves outwardly, through storytelling, music, art, or in Sean’s case, craftsmanship, rather than through formal introspection.
Freud is also believed to have said that the Irish are a mass of contradictions, impervious to rational thought processes that might resolve them. And indeed, the Irish nature can often seem paradoxical. They are both friendly and reserved, quick to laugh but equally quick to brood. Whether it’s a fierce pride in their heritage or a tendency toward self-deprecation, these contradictions are woven into the fabric of Irish life.
But perhaps, it is precisely this complexity that makes the Irish psyche so compelling. Despite Freud’s possible skepticism, the Irish have demonstrated an ability to thrive both at home and abroad. Generations of Irish immigrants found success in places like America, their personalities shaped by a mix of resilience, humor, and creativity.
At the heart of the Irish psyche is a deep connection to the land and its history. Irish proverbs, stories, and traditions serve as a reminder of this connection, offering insights into the collective mindset. Whether it’s the belief in inevitable doom (often masked by humor) or the tendency to find joy in simple moments, the Irish personality is undoubtedly unique.
So, was Freud right? Is psychoanalysis of no use to the Irish? Perhaps traditional methods of psychoanalysis may not align with the Irish temperament, but that doesn’t mean the Irish aren’t introspective. They may just prefer to explore their emotions in other ways—through creativity, community, and, like Sean, the quiet beauty of their craft.
Stay tuned for more discussions as we continue to explore the Irish psyche and the many fascinating facets of Irish life and history.