Freud's transference gave the therapist a mirror to hold — steady, reflective, the analyst behind the couch precisely because his person was not the point. The patient's old drama would unfold against that surface and become visible. It is a forensic model, and an elegant one. What Sedgwick is locating in Jung is a different ontological claim: the therapist is not a surface but a participant, and participation means the therapist's own unresolved material enters the room with the same authority as the patient's.

This is not a therapeutic technique; it is a statement about what the psyche is. If the field between two people is genuinely mutual — if the analyst can be moved, infected, disturbed, seduced by the patient's complex — then the analyst's interior life is clinical data, not contamination to be quarantined. Jung's countertransference neurosis names what was already happening and refused to call it an error. The analyst who imagines himself immune has simply lost track of where his own complex is operating.

What this demands, practically, is that the therapist remain someone who continues to be worked on — not someone who has resolved enough to be safe. The old idea of the wounded healer is not poetic consolation. It is the structural requirement the model makes.