Human beings live their psychology. Psychology is nothing but a blend of unconscious patterns that express themselves through behaviour and action. Much of human suffering, therefore, does not arise from life itself, but from the unconscious ways in which we respond to it. Long before modern psychology articulated this truth, spiritual traditions across the world hinted at it in different forms. In the twentieth century, psychiatrist Eric Berne offered a strikingly simple yet profound lens to understand this inner conditioning through what he called Transactional Analysis.
Berne began with a radical assumption for his time: people are essentially “OK.” They are not broken, sinful, or fundamentally flawed. Yet, despite this innate wholeness, many lead constrained lives, repeating emotional patterns that no longer serve them. His work sought to answer a quiet but persistent question: why do intelligent and capable individuals continue to suffer in predictable ways?
According to Berne, our personality operates through three functional modes, which he called Parent, Adult, and Child. The Parent carries internalised voices of authority, tradition, and morality. The Child holds our early emotions, fears, creativity, and survival strategies. The Adult, ideally, is the part of us that sees reality clearly and responds appropriately in the present moment. Conflict arises not because these aspects exist, but because we unknowingly allow the past to dominate the present.
This insight resonates deeply with Indian philosophical thought. What Berne calls the Child mirrors the idea of samskaras, the psychological impressions formed through past experiences. The Parent resembles inherited conditioning, the unquestioned shoulds and should nots absorbed from society and culture. The Adult, in contrast, parallels viveka, the discriminative awareness that enables one to see things as they are rather than as conditioning dictates.
A central idea in Berne’s philosophy is that many of us live by unconscious life scripts. These scripts are not written by fate, destiny, or the gods, but by early decisions we make about ourselves and the world. A child may decide, “I must please others to be loved,” or “The world is unsafe,” and then spend decades unknowingly organising life around these conclusions. Indian philosophy would describe this not as destiny, but as karma born of ignorance rather than awareness.
Berne went further to describe how these scripts play out in everyday relationships through what he termed psychological games. These are repetitive patterns of interaction with predictable emotional outcomes. Though they appear social on the surface, they carry hidden motives. People do not play these games because they enjoy suffering, but because they seek recognition, what Berne called strokes. Even negative attention, he observed, often feels safer than no attention at all.
Here, psychology touches spirituality. Indian wisdom traditions repeatedly remind us that bondage is sustained by identification. When we mistake our conditioned reactions for our true self, we remain trapped in cycles of pleasure and pain. Berne’s contribution lies in making these invisible dynamics visible, not through abstract metaphysics, but through everyday language and lived experience.
Freedom, for Berne, was not an esoteric ideal. He defined it in three simple capacities: awareness, spontaneity, and intimacy. Awareness is the ability to see reality without distortion. Spontaneity is the freedom to choose a response rather than react mechanically. Intimacy is the capacity to relate authentically without manipulation or games. These qualities closely resemble what spiritual traditions describe as maturity of consciousness.
There is an important distinction, however. While spirituality ultimately points beyond the ego, Berne focused on liberating the ego from unconscious domination. In this sense, Transactional Analysis can be seen as preparatory ground for deeper self inquiry. When one begins to notice, “This is my Parent speaking,” or “This reaction belongs to my Child,” a subtle shift occurs. The observer steps back, and identification loosens.
This moment of observation raises a deeper question, familiar to seekers across traditions: if I can observe my thoughts, emotions, and roles, then who am I? Berne did not pursue this question philosophically, yet his work naturally leads toward it. By restoring conscious choice, he opened a doorway from compulsion to clarity.
In a world increasingly shaped by speed, comparison, and reactivity, Berne’s message feels especially relevant. Liberation does not begin with changing others, nor with perfecting circumstances. It begins with recognising the invisible scripts we live by and gently questioning their authority.
Perhaps true freedom is not about becoming someone extraordinary, but about ceasing to be unconsciously driven. In that quiet space of awareness, life stops being a repetition of the past and becomes a response to the present. In that moment, psychology and spirituality meet, not as opposing paths, but as complementary movements toward the same truth.
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