Sociopaths = scary?

Sociopaths are scary? From Quick Meme under the heading, "Next Time Someone Tells You To Be Afraid Of Sharks, Show Them This..."

Neurodiversity = all inclusive?

Another supporter from the autism community arguing that neurodiversity should mean exactly what it says:

As a Diagnosed Autistic, and as an individual who displays antisocial traits (Irritability, lack of guilt/remorse, the ability to display a "Shallow Affect".), I find people with AS to be despicably hypocritical as it regards individuals with ASPD. They demand to be understood by "Neurotypicals", and they demand that society not demonize them and make them out to be monsters, and damn it, they demand that people respect that they're "wired differently", but they're willing to throw sociopaths, narcissists, low functioning autistics and other supposedly "Neurodiverse" people under the bus, lest God forbid, some imbecile attribute the asinine stigma they attach to other people to them. Utter cowardice. Here's a radical concept: If you're going to embrace human rights, guys, embrace them for all individuals. Otherwise they cease to be rights and become privileges for the "In Group".

Jordan C. Garrett 

What do you say, autism spectrum? Should we go into this together?!

Excusing behavior

I liked this recent comment comparing a girl with multiple sclerosis with a sociopath:

Of course, if you look at the real life woman, at some point people will probably feel sorry for the cute girl, tragically wheelchair bound due to neuropathy. But the ugly alcoholic male sociopath that callously runs over a few stray cats a week on his way to work - no sympathy.

Is this comparison outrageous? Another comment explains perhaps why not because in the same way that she doesn't have complete control over her body, most people (especially sociopaths?) don't have control over their minds:

Sociopaths are impulsive. I will impulsively grab a woman's ass. I will catch myself, after the fact. It is a bit like ADHD people interrupting, and only then noticing it (and perhaps apologising).

Your neck is probably tight right now. You didn't choose to tighten it. If you release it, and think a bit, or get otherwise distracted from keeping your neck quiescent, your neck will probably tighten up a bit. Again, you didn't choose to do this.

Finally, as you read this message, your brain turns the characters into words, concepts, etc and you have feelings about them. You don't choose to think what the concepts are, nor do you choose your feelings. If you get really upset at the thought that you aren't in control of your own mind (you can't even control the next thought you'll think) and get into a car upset and drive badly, that won't be you choosing to drive badly. You'll be a "victim" of your mind. 

Similarly, when I grab a woman's ass at the wrong time, piss in the sink without realizing it (and disgust my housemates) or am impulsively rough with my girlfriend's cat, the same thing is afoot. 

Or course, if we take this to the natural conclusion, no one is really responsible for anything they do, which we obviously can't have for practical reasons. 

James Fallon's Life as a Nonviolent Psychopath

I've been meaning to do a post on the Atlantic's interview with James Fallon (Life as a Nonviolent Psychopath) about his new book, "The Psychopath Inside: A Neuroscientist's Personal Journey into the Dark Side of the Brain." Both the book and the article are worth reading in their entirety.

My favorite part in the article was Professor Fallon describing his relationship with his close associates, wife and sister:

I started with simple things of how I interact with my wife, my sister, and my mother. Even though they’ve always been close to me, I don't treat them all that well. I treat strangers pretty well—really well, and people tend to like me when they meet me—but I treat my family the same way, like they're just somebody at a bar. I treat them well, but I don't treat them in a special way. That’s the big problem.

I asked them this—it's not something a person will tell you spontaneously—but they said, "I give you everything. I give you all this love and you really don’t give it back." They all said it, and that sure bothered me. So I wanted to see if I could change. I don't believe it, but I'm going to try.

In order to do that, every time I started to do something, I had to think about it, look at it, and go: No. Don’t do the selfish thing or the self-serving thing. Step-by-step, that's what I’ve been doing for about a year and a half and they all like it. Their basic response is: We know you don’t really mean it, but we still like it.

I told them, "You’ve got to be kidding me. You accept this? It’s phony!" And they said, "No, it’s okay. If you treat people better it means you care enough to try." It blew me away then and still blows me away now. 

My second favorite part was on the possibility of change:

I think people can change if they devote their whole life to the one thing and stop all the other parts of their life, but that's what people can't do. You can have behavioral plasticity and maybe change behavior with parallel brain circuitry, but the number of times this happens is really rare.

Interestingly, I've felt like with my life being somewhat ruined by publishing the book, I have plenty of time now to do this very thing. I'm curious where it will take me.

Other topics include how sociopaths have a Zen Buddhist perspective, the difference between someone who becomes a violent sociopath and someone who does not, how and why treatment of infants and small children is critical to their development, and why sociopathic traits might not really "mature" until the adult brain has matured.

Sociopathy as treatment?

From a reader:

As a 'neurotypical', I found your book both fascinating and inspiring. In fact, it may have been life-saving, if that description does not sound too melodramatic. 

I was diagnosed with an eating disorder (EDNOS) about three years ago, and the disordered habits in turn triggered a very self-destructive form of depression. That depression came with its own score of disordered behaviors, steadily growing into masochism. I was, essentially, drowning myself in emotion. I lost sight of what was important for me and my life, and instead spent my energies either helping others or antagonizing them until they used me as an emotional punching bag.

And then I came across your blog, and the perspective you presented captured my attention. It was the opposite of where I was mentally, and thus intrigued me as I struggled to imagine what it would be like to be a sociopath. Several weeks later, I hit rock-bottom in all aspects of my life. I was either half starved or full to bursting, suffered frequent panic attacks, and couldn't find the strength or motivation to complete my classwork. For a period of about two weeks I was incapable of anything that wasn't self-destructive, and I was in a constant emotional state of pain and guilt.

When your book came out I purchased it immediately. I latched on to the personal perspective and tried to imitate it, just to see if I could get relief from my own situation long enough to recover my grades. It slid on like a second skin, and I couldn't shake it. I did not magically become a sociopath, of course; but I do think something in my subconscious clung to the behaviors I had tried to imitate. For a period of about a month I lost all of my programed emotional responses. I no longer felt pangs of empathy, nor could I consciously recreate those feelings. All my self-destruction evaporated as I was suddenly able to see how completely idiotic such behaviors were, even as coping mechanisms or addictions. I no longer had intense emotional reactions to food, and I no longer cared empathetically for my friends or family. In essence I became a creature of complete selfishness. Boredom was my arch-enemy, for I had no emotional issues to occupy my thoughts (except anger; interestingly, I felt anger with a bright passion I hadn't ever felt before), so I launched myself into projects of my own creation. I wanted to see what I could do. I found I had huge influence over the emotional states of the people around me, and I convinced my teachers to extend due dates and give me opportunities to gain back the points I'd missed with very little effort. I enjoyed pushing people and watching their reactions with a fascinated sort of distance. Of course, I also lost the love of a few friends, simply because I didn't have the motivation to sustain a relationship if it wasn't giving me anything. But the gains I made were outstanding. I could eat normally and was able to lose weight healthily. I participated in sports without having fainting spells. 

After my exams were over, I slowly fell out of that state and returned to a pre-eating disorder, pre-depression mentality, with a much healthier body and mind. And I began to wonder if sociopathy is not a programmed survival mechanism. Perhaps we all have the capacity to abandon empathy and embrace an a-moralistic and self-centered world view. Perhaps it is an adaptation which allows those who do not have the luxury of being pro-social to survive. Of course, I do not pretend to have become sociopathic. But I was able to step into a similar pattern of thinking and behavior which likely saved my life. It certainly improved it. Maybe the sociopathic mind is designed to surmount obstacles the empathetic mind cannot. 

Either way, you have given me a new perspective and a very good book, and I thank you!

This was a particularly interesting email for me to receive because one of my friends also has an eating disorder and found it to be very empowering, which is not the typical response that most people have to the book. I wonder if there are other disorders or issues that people have that would benefit from trying to put themselves more in the sociopathic mindset, at least temporarily?