William Stanley Milligan—George Harding

William Stanley Milligan—George Harding is a therapeutic relationship formed under legal pressure and carried through a changing sequence of hospitals and restrictions. George Harding first entered the case as a psychiatrist asked to assess Milligan’s competence to stand trial; he then took responsibility for organizing treatment at Harding Hospital. His approach combined a belief that the court’s charge required serious work with caution about imposing another clinician’s method on Milligan. The relationship’s central task was not simply to identify Milligan’s personalities, but to find a way for them—and eventually Milligan himself—to communicate.

Assessment and the move to Harding Hospital

George Harding’s involvement began when defense attorney Gary Schweickart sought his opinion about the unusual course of Milligan’s case. At their meeting, Schweickart explained what he and Judy Stevenson had learned and described an upcoming meeting at the Franklin County Jail. George Harding listened closely, considered the existing involvement of Stella Karolin and Dorothy Turner, and agreed that he might attend. The scene establishes an initially formal relationship: the lawyer sought an expert view, while Harding took care not to commit himself before hearing the case.

In a letter dated March 13, 1978, George Harding concluded that Milligan was not competent to stand trial. He cited Milligan’s inability to cooperate with his attorney in his own defense and his lack of the emotional integration needed to testify, confront witnesses, and sustain an effective psychological presence in court. Schweickart and prosecutor Bernie Yavitch then asked Harding to go beyond the evaluation and request admission to Harding Hospital for assessment and treatment. Harding struggled with that decision, mindful of the unusual agreement that his report would enter the record by stipulation rather than place him exclusively on either side. His eventual involvement thus linked clinical responsibility to a proceeding in which both defense and prosecution had asked him to act.

Milligan arrived at Harding Hospital on March 16, two days earlier than expected, while George Harding was away at a psychiatric meeting in Chicago. Judy Stevenson and Dorothy Turner accompanied him to Wakefield Cottage, the locked unit for patients needing constant observation and personal attention. Staff placed Milligan in a special-care room with a heavy door and a peephole; Dr. Shoemaker assumed immediate responsibility until Harding returned. The early transfer disrupted Harding’s plan to greet Milligan himself, but not the treatment team he had assembled. When Harding returned on March 19, he had to begin the relationship within a structure already shaped by the hospital’s secure ward and the unexpected arrival.

Building a treatment method

George Harding had organized a broad team that included psychologists, therapists, a social worker, doctors, nurses, psychiatric aides, and the Wakefield unit coordinator. He had briefed them on multiple personality, but some staff members remained openly skeptical. Rather than demand immediate agreement, Harding acknowledged his own skepticism and asked the team to keep open minds and work together to understand Milligan. That stance made the therapeutic relationship collective as well as individual: Harding was responsible for Milligan’s care, but also for helping a doubtful staff approach the case without closing off inquiry.

The first therapy session was a strained fifty minutes. Milligan sat facing the window and initially avoided eye contact. He seemed to remember little of his past, though he spoke freely about abuse by his adoptive father. George Harding knew that Dorothy Turner and Cornelia Wilbur had recommended identifying the personalities, encouraging them to explain their origins, and helping them communicate and share their problems. The eventual aim was to bring the core personality, Billy, into contact with memories held by the others and, if possible, attempt fusion. Harding did not simply copy Wilbur’s method. Although he recognized its appeal, he believed that what had worked for another clinician might not work for him, and chose to discover the personalities in his own way and at his own pace.

By the end of April, with six of the planned twelve weeks gone, Harding felt progress was too slow. He had not seen the core personality since an earlier encounter in which Wilbur had persuaded Ragen to let Billy emerge. Seeking a practical means of opening communication, Harding proposed videotaping the personalities’ speech and behavior so they could observe themselves and one another. He explained the importance of communication to Allen, who agreed to take part. The proposal marked a shift from patient observation toward a shared therapeutic instrument: the recordings were intended to give the personalities material through which to learn about themselves and make contact with Billy.

Communication, trust, and recovery

The records describe Milligan’s own account of how he communicated internally. During a physical examination after Harding’s return, Dr. Perry Ayres observed that Milligan’s lips often moved and his eyes turned to the right before he answered. Milligan explained that he was talking with the others, especially Arthur, to obtain answers. The exchange makes visible a problem central to Harding’s work: the person answering a question might first consult another personality, so communication with Milligan could involve communication among several participants. Harding’s treatment plan sought to make that internal exchange more accessible rather than treat each answer as isolated.

A later conversation with Billy placed the hospital’s purpose in personal terms. When Billy asked how he had come to be in the hospital, the explanation was that Turner, Karolin, and Wilbur hoped he could learn to deal with frightening situations without having to go to sleep. Billy’s tearful response was followed by an offer to try to help him. The exchange presents the relationship as an invitation rather than a completed cure: the clinicians could offer support, but Billy’s participation remained necessary.

After Milligan’s trial, George Harding’s colleague Dr. David Caul emphasized that Milligan had been found not guilty and should not be treated as a criminal in the hospital. He described the next stage as a new life in which recovery depended on Milligan’s willingness to work with Billy and bring himself together. This statement reflects a therapeutic outlook consistent with Harding’s earlier effort to foster communication, although the evidence does not make Caul’s words Harding’s own. The distinction matters: Harding helped establish the clinical framework, while other clinicians continued to shape Milligan’s care as it moved beyond the trial.

Treatment under institutional pressure

At Athens, the relationship between care and institutional control became harder to separate. After publicity and conflict on the Admissions and Intensive Treatment ward, staff demanded changes and pressed Dr. Caul to limit his day-to-day involvement. To prevent Milligan from being sent to Lima, Caul accepted greater staff authority. A written contract then restricted Milligan’s contact, possessions, money, privileges, and access to paint supplies; privileges would be restored only in stages after two weeks of compliance. These conditions provide the institutional context for the earlier therapeutic aspiration of communication and integration: treatment took place within rules that sharply limited ordinary choices and relationships.

On October 4, 1979, Milligan was handcuffed and belt-shackled and driven 180 miles to Lima State Hospital, with time to say goodbye only to Dr. Caul. The transfer did not represent the conclusion of George Harding’s individual work so much as the force of a system in which clinical care could be displaced by security decisions. In 1980 Milligan was moved again, this time to the Dayton Forensic Center, a maximum-security facility. There he hoped a later hearing might return him to Athens, where he believed Caul could treat him, fuse him again, and bring back the Teacher. His account of deterioration—uncertainty about who he was, lost communication among personalities, and a daily log that gradually fell into disuse—underscored the continuing stakes of the communication Harding had tried to establish. The relationship’s significance lies in that unfinished work: assessment opened the door to treatment, but the possibility of integration remained vulnerable to the institutions governing Milligan’s life.