COLUMN ONE : The Dark Corner of Psychology : Sex with patients triggers 50% of complaints about psychologists to state’s Medical Board. As the case of one therapist shows, victims’ private revelations can become tools of exploitation.

SAN DIEGO — Ann’s marriage was on the rocks. Her father was dying of cancer. One of her two small children had received a diagnosis of attention deficit disorder.

Only one person stood by Ann as she tumbled through these crises: psychologist Charles Hansen. Call any time, he told her. His staff was instructed to interrupt if he was in session and she needed him, he told her.

He would soothe her jagged nerves, reassure her that everything would work out. When her husband made her feel unattractive and stupid, Chuck Hansen would flirt and tell her she was a beautiful, intelligent woman. When her father was close to death, Chuck Hansen started smoking a pipe--just like her dad--and the wafting tobacco smoke was comforting.

Ann, then 30, saw Hansen in individual sessions as well as with her husband for marital counseling. The psychologist began telling her about his own life in a way that made her feel they were friends. He would tell her about his wife, also a San Diego therapist; the weekly appearances on a radio talk show; courses he was teaching, and his experiences as an ordained Presbyterian minister. They had sessions at his office and at his La Jolla house. Her husband had little time for her, but the 6-foot-2, blond, blue-eyed therapist was always available.

“I trusted Hansen at a point where he was the only person I trusted--he was a lifeline,” she said. “I probably would have done just about anything this man asked me to do.”

And over the six years that Ann saw Hansen for therapy, the sexual tension between them mounted. It was a protracted campaign. First, it was just little hints. Then he started telling her she was sexy and that he was aroused by her. Later, he described in graphic detail the sexual acts he longed to do with her.

“It made me feel desirable, that I wasn’t just a schleppy old housewife, that I hadn’t died yet--that I was attractive,” she said.

Later, there was occasional touching and kissing. After five years of therapy, the psychotherapist and his patient started having sex--unbeknown to her husband, who still accompanied his wife to see Hansen for counseling.

“This man . . . would take whatever information you gave and he would use it,” she said. “He’d weave a web like a spider and try to get you into it. . . . Chuck would say anything to get you where he wanted you.”

Sex between a therapist and his patient is condemned by every major medical and psychological organization, all of which say it can be emotionally devastating for patients. In eight states--including, since 1990, California--it is illegal for therapists to have sex with patients.

Still, some experts say patient-therapist sex occurs far more often than the profession cares to acknowledge. It is, some patients say, psychiatry’s dirty little secret.

Although no one can quantify the frequency of patient-therapist sex with any precision, 65% of therapists in one nationwide study said they had treated patients who had sex with previous therapists. In another nationwide survey, cited by the American Psychiatric Assn., psychiatrist Nanette Gartrell found that 7% of male therapists and 3% of female therapists had sexual contact with their patients.

Across California, more than half of all complaints to the state’s Medical Board against psychologists involve claims that they had sex with their patients, said Janie Cordray, Medical Board spokeswoman. The Medical Board receives about 200 such complaints each year. In many cases, the therapist has targeted the most vulnerable, Cordray said.

“The doctor preys upon those people who are easy marks, choosing someone who isn’t going to talk, someone who is needy, has low self-esteem and is looking for approval,” Cordray said. “Most women don’t come forward because they think it’s love; they think they are the only one.”

In psychotherapy, patients often come to regard their therapist as a loving, trustworthy parent. It’s a phenomenon called “transference,” said Ken Pope, former chairman of the American Psychological Assn.’s Ethics Committee.

“This has to do with the power of a therapist and the way therapy works: Clients tell therapists their deepest secrets, they let themselves become completely vulnerable and begin experiencing the therapist as a parent, for whom they’d do anything to gain approval,” Pope said. “Therapists are trained to recognize and respect transference, vulnerability, dependency and other factors of power inherent in the role of a therapist--not to exploit them.”

This is the story of one therapist, Chuck Hansen, who seduced his patients. It is based on in-depth interviews with a number of former patients, colleagues, and volumes of court documents. Because of the sensitive nature of this case, the women’s real names are not used at their request.

*

In complaints to state authorities, Ann and six other women accused Hansen of improprieties that included having sex during therapy. Of those women, two alleged that they had been drugged and forced to have sex. An eighth patient, who was 18 at the time of her therapy, alleged that Hansen gave her cocaine and provided X-rated movies for her to watch as she baby-sat his children.

Acting on behalf of the state Board of Psychology, the attorney general’s office investigated the complaints and accused Hansen, 49, of sexual misconduct and gross negligence. He was not charged with violating state law because all the incidents occurred prior to 1990.

Subsequently, Hansen agreed in March, 1992, to surrender his license to practice in California. The eight women also sued him for malpractice and recently reached legal settlements, which ranged in size from $55,000 to $175,000.

Hansen declined to be interviewed. His wife, Susan, 48, said she and her husband would not speak to The Times, upon the advice of their lawyer. “It’s still very painful for us and we are dealing with it,” Susan Hansen said.

She would not say what Hansen is doing now.

In legal proceedings, Hansen has never admitted or denied sexual liaisons with his patients--a standard posture in such cases. When he surrendered his license, said Pamela Ann Thatcher, Hansen’s lawyer at the time, he did not address the question of sexual misconduct. “The only thing we admitted to was gross negligence in treatment of patients,” she said.

Hansen’s actions were a result of a drug problem, which he has “made tremendous strides to overcome,” Thatcher said. Former patients say they saw him use cocaine, marijuana and amyl nitrate, a stimulant--known as poppers--thought to enhance sexual pleasure.

The accusations against Hansen stunned those who knew him as a shining star among the small community of San Diego psychologists who specialized in sex therapy and marriage counseling. Hansen aired regularly on the Bill Ballance radio talk show for six years--a stint that brought him patients and added credibility in the minds of some.

Radio host Ballance said he did not have a clue as to what had been going on with Hansen’s patients and that he regretted inviting him.

“I’ve thought about it for days, weeks,” Ballance said. “I went over my notes; there was no hint. No lascivious comment or any indication that he was inclined to treat his patients in a totally unprofessional way.”

Patients say Hansen was an “emotion con man” driven by lust and obsessed by his desire for conquest. He was a charming, handsome man who zeroed in on a patient’s weakness, fed off her despair and used her disclosures to satisfy his personal needs, they say.

The reported abuses occurred within a four-year period beginning in 1980, alleges the attorney general’s office. Former patients say they know of other women who have not come forward--either because of their loyalty to Hansen or their own emotional turmoil over the relationship.

Hansen’s victims were smart, able women in a variety of professions. Today, for instance, Ann is a 45-year-old marketing executive who works in Los Angeles County.

But there were some common denominators: Seven sought marital counseling and, after months of therapy, six marriages broke up. They suffered depression, anxiety, difficulty trusting men and feelings of low self-esteem. Each woman patient thought she was the only one, that she had a special relationship with Chuck Hansen, that she was more than just a patient even though she was billed as one. There was another bond: Most had been abused as children.

Sometimes, the seduction would unfold over the course of years, a deliberate campaign waged and often won using intimate information that the patient had told her therapist. Other times, the come-on occurred immediately.

In her first session with Hansen in 1983, a 21-year-old former athlete described being molested as a child and her uncertainty about whether she was gay. She said in an interview that Hansen started to unzip his pants and told her all she needed was sex.

The young woman burst into tears and Hansen apologized.

The California Medical Board received the first complaint about Hansen in November, 1987, Cordray said. Three years later, the board turned its investigation over to the attorney general. Two years after that, Hansen surrendered his license.

“I don’t understand why it took so long--there was a clear and present danger to the public,” said David Miller, the attorney representing the women in the malpractice suits.

The delay was compounded by a number of factors, including the Medical Board’s relatively small staff, which has doubled since 1989 and now numbers about 100, Cordray said.

“Most of the delay was caused by (concerns for) due process,” Cordray said. “These types of complaints are not something you just go to a hearing with. It takes quite a bit to hold this in front of a judge.”

*

Hansen, an Iowa native who attended high school and college in Illinois, married his high school sweetheart, Susan Schick. After college, he attended McCormick Theology Seminary in Chicago, where he was viewed as an enthusiastic student, and then he worked as an assistant pastor at a small Presbyterian Church in Troy, Michigan. But he seemed more interested in counseling than church duties, said McKay Taylor, the pastor who hired Hansen in 1970.

Some church officials were not sorry to see Hansen go at the end of three years. He had alienated the pastor and the church board by counseling clients--and being paid--on church time.

Chuck and Susan Hansen--who have two children--arrived in San Diego in 1973. Two years later, Chuck Hansen obtained a doctorate in psychology from United States International University.

Equipped with a marriage and family counselor license as well as a clinical psychology license, Chuck Hansen ran a private practice. A gregarious and charming man, he could--with seemingly equal ease--crack up parties with his antics and present workshops on his specialty: sex therapy.

His professional standing continued to build as he taught at UC San Diego School of Medicine for five years and became president of two local professional organizations, the Southern California Assn. of Marriage and Family Counselors and the San Diego Society for Sex Therapy & Education.

“He was reasonable and bright and did good work. He was one of the acknowledged leaders. He was a real outgoing, friendly, fun guy,” said Lee Teed, a therapist and an Episcopal priest.

“He was a professional of good standing in San Diego; he was highly regarded,” recalled Emery Cummins, a former therapy society president. “He seemed like an ethical practitioner. . . . There was no indication that people who went to him might get sucked into some kind of exploitative relationship.”

But at the same time that Hansen was winning his colleagues, he was wooing his patients, according to allegations in court records.

Hansen’s first known sexual encounter with a patient occurred with a woman who had seen him for therapy beginning in March, 1978, according to the attorney general’s accusation.

Months later, Hansen had sex with another patient, Lisa, according to the attorney general. Their intimate relationship lasted until April, 1983, though she continued seeing him as a patient until December, 1984. On at least two occasions, Lisa and Hansen had sex in his office during her regularly scheduled appointments and she was billed for therapy, according to the attorney general.

Sometime in the midst of these years, Hansen’s drug use apparently escalated, according to interviews and the attorney general’s investigation. He began missing appointments. At one group session, he empathized with one woman’s feeling of desperation, saying that he himself had crawled on the rug hoping to spot grains of cocaine, a patient remembered. He excused himself during lunch with a colleague and when he returned to the table, he appeared high, the colleague recalled. When confronted, he would deny drug use--saying it was depression, not dope, that made him act erratically, the colleague added.

One day, his Mercedes was smashed in. Another day, his couch caught fire. Still another day, an ax was sunk into his office door. Had Hansen, one colleague asked himself, made his drug dealer angry? Later, he wondered whether it was the work of an angry patient whom he’d seduced and dumped.

*

Laura, now a psychotherapist in San Diego, sought therapy with Hansen after her husband of 10 years ended their marriage so he could see other women.

The patient, in her early 30s, “wants to be able to get close to men,” according to an evaluation note entered in Laura’s file at Hansen’s Hillcrest office.

Laura felt unattractive and believed she would never be able to trust men. Worse yet, she felt powerless--a feeling so overwhelming that she would weep for hours at a time.

Hansen made her uneasy in the first session. Later, she would wonder whether some intuitive sense told her to stay away from this handsome man, she said in interviews.

From the first appointments until the last one three years later, Hansen would hug her at the conclusion of sessions. Laura believed many therapists did that.

After five months, those hugs began to take on more meaning, more passion--and last longer. Hansen would stand very close, pressing his body against hers, and hold her firmly. Or he would exhale slowly and deeply as though to show that Laura turned him on. Sometimes he would groan--a sexual groan, she thought. Or was it? Was she misunderstanding?

He began telling her she looked pretty or that she smelled nice. Gradually, Hansen began talking about his own issues and, in that way, they seemed like friends. Though she’d been dating a man in the early months of therapy, she broke off that relationship. Instead she found that on the days she had therapy, she would dress with extra care.

In one awkward session, Laura brought up her increasing confusion over her relationship with Hansen. She told him she wanted to terminate therapy because “something seemed very wrong,” according to a deposition in the case.

Hansen became angry. He told her that he was the doctor and would decide when it as time to terminate therapy. Then he questioned whether Laura trusted him, whether her wish to end therapy sprang from her longstanding inability to trust men. He told her that transference was not an issue for them because “we were different.”

“I should have left but I didn’t. I fell into this sort of spell,” she said in interviews. “You are caught in this thing you don’t feel you can get out of.”

One sunny February afternoon, after more than two years of therapy, Hansen invited Laura to his La Jolla house. He played music for her and, that afternoon, as they sat on the deck overlooking the ocean, the tone of their intimacy changed. Hansen suggested he follow her home so he could fix her stereo.

It was one of two times that the patient and therapist had sexual intercourse, Laura told investigators.

“I thought I was special--important to him, like this was something I had to do,” she said. “It was romantic but it was very tormenting. . . . I just felt horrible about myself. I felt used and hurt and ugly and angry. I didn’t feel I could say no. Emotionally, it didn’t seem like I had a choice. I want people to know it wasn’t that I was this scummy person--there are reasons people do this.”

Hansen did not know at the time that Laura had been sexually abused by her alcoholic father for four years, beginning when she was 12 and ending six months before he died.

At the time, Hansen also did not know that Laura had sex with her first therapist after treatment had concluded. Traumatized by incest, she was “highly vulnerable to subsequent sexual exploitation and abuse by unscrupulous men,” concluded one psychiatrist who saw Laura. Sexual relations with Hansen and the other therapist, he noted, were “a re-enactment of her childhood trauma, which only served to reinforce her pathological view of herself as a ‘bad’ person.”

She had never told of her incestuous relationship with her father and it was four years before she spoke of her relationship with Hansen. It almost seemed to her that if she didn’t talk about it, it didn’t really happen.

*

Jenny, then 28, came after Laura, according to the attorney general’s investigation.

Jenny had been abused by her stepfather for eight years, beginning when she was 13. As an adult, she had ricocheted from one troubled relationship to another. At 20, Jenny--then a nurse in Los Angeles County--was involved with a doctor who was 32 years her senior. At 26, she arrived in Carlsbad, fleeing yet another stormy liaison, and moved in with her mother and stepfather.

She abruptly married, and after only a few weeks she realized that she had once again chosen poorly. She and her husband went to Hansen in July, 1983, for marital counseling. Hansen advised them to escalate their sexual activity, saying that it would prove whether they shared enough to stay together. After one month, the couple split up.

“I really hit rock bottom,” Jenny said. “Every day was a reminder that I had made a mistake and that I was bad. I’d work from 8 to 5, come home and go to my bedroom, where I’d either cry or go to sleep.”

When she called Hansen to resume therapy, he told her he had hoped they would have a personal relationship--a comment that she didn’t take seriously, she said. But sometimes she thought he stared at her breasts during sessions.

Starting with the first session, Hansen focused on Jenny’s sexual history.

“Hansen said I needed to increase my sexual activity--that I needed to get back in touch with my sexuality or I was going to lose it forever,” Jenny said. “He encouraged me to have sexual fantasies. Hansen said that since I didn’t have a partner to fantasize about, I could use him.”

As the weeks went by, Hansen stepped up his seduction. “He would say sex with therapists is OK in a lot of situations,” Jenny said. It was an insidious process that she later referred to as brainwashing.

Hansen finally told her that she no longer needed therapy. If she would call him, they could see one another, but their relationship would be different, he told her.

Hansen leaned close to his patient and gently instructed her: “Now say, ‘Goodby, doctor.’ ” Then he kissed her passionately on the lips. Jenny left his office feeling lost. Hansen had become her only link. She was all but crippled by depression--she had no friends; she attended no social gatherings. And her daily life of going to work and coming home was punctuated by anxiety attacks.

“I was so depressed, so impaired. I literally had nobody,” Jenny said. “I had thoughts of suicide. I would have been happy to die. And yet he led me to believe I was OK.”

After five weeks of feeling like she sank further and further into her depression, she called Hansen.

“Charles Hansen set a date to come to my home. It was mutually agreed that it was for the purpose of a sexual encounter,” Jenny said. “He had worked on me in therapy and outside therapy to set me up for this. I was depressed and needy. It was the same thing I experienced with (my stepfather). There was this part of me that knew right from wrong, and part of me thought this was OK,” Jenny said. “There was nothing romantic about the sex. It was very cold and mechanical.”

Immediately afterward, Hansen drove off in his Mercedes. On the table, he left a partially used drug vial. Jenny was surprised--after all the buildup, after the months of heavy campaigning, the sex was “unsatisfying,” she said. This is just another man who hates women, she remembered thinking.

After that evening, Hansen cut her off. He would not return calls.

“Looking back, he so pressured me, set me up and pushed this on me. After that, he dropped me like a hot potato,” Jenny said. “I felt betrayed, abandoned, embarrassed and humiliated. I had been abandoned by every male in my family, and here was another major rejection.

“In my mind, he didn’t do anything different than (my stepfather) had done.”

Today, Jenny is bitter.

“Now I can say it was a deliberate campaign and that it was a control thing. He had a need to control, conquer and when it was done, he walked away. Why was that so important to Hansen? Why did he have to do that to so many women?” she said. “Over time, I’d like to look at Chuck Hansen like a bad dream that’s behind me.”

She and the others are trying to rebuild shattered lives. For Jenny, it has taken years. Others say they will never fully recover. They ask themselves painful questions: Had they seen another therapist, would their marriage have been salvaged? Would they have made better professional choices? Would their children be healthier today?

“I am so deeply infuriated, it’s hard to describe. I feel robbed of a period of my life that should have been much happier. I didn’t have to come out of therapy needing more help than when I went in,” said Ann, crying during an interview in a Santa Monica restaurant. “There were serious problems between me and my husband. If we’d gotten proper help, we might have ended our marriage sooner or we might not have done it all.

“Hansen robbed all of us of a life we might have been able to have. It’s not just bad therapy, it is the loss of what might have been.”