Careers in sociopathy

A socio reader asked what sort of careers might best suit a sociopathic lifestyle or personality. I think that many careers may appeal to a sociopath, but there are probably some better than others. I hate being an "employee," I hate to be micromanaged, I hate to feel like I am working for someone else. I do a much better job when I feel like like I have some independence and creativity in what I do and how I do it, and I prefer for the focus to be on doing good work rather than trying to please someone else, perhaps ironically given my predilection for seduction and mask wearing. This is why although I have considered (and passed psych evaluations for) various government positions for the excitement, the intrigue, the power, the firearms, I would never be able to survive the bureaucracy, the idiocy, the micromanaging, and the lack of control over my fate. I actually avoid even being on any government property for that very reason -- I don't want to give them any reason to detain me.

Here's what one reader said about being a lawyer:

I definitely think my particular "personality" helps. My general experience has always been that more empathetic people spend a lot of time struggling with their emotions, both in law school and when practicing. To give some more concrete examples: non-lawyers often remark on how they can't imagine defending someone guilty of murder, fearing they might get them off. While I appreciate the moral and societal implications of clearing guilty criminals, it's clearly not something I struggle with emotionally. Furthermore, I find that even when I can explain the legal and societal need to always provide the best defense possible, many people can never emotionally get past the hurdle. A similar problem occurs for many first year law students with the often opined "that's not fair!" Professors even exploit this weakness by distracting students with highly emotionally charged situations on exams, this gives people such as myself a clear advantage. I could really go on and on.

Here's what another said about being a med student/doctor:

I am going to become a neurosurgeon. I have been fortunate enough to meet a neurosurgeon who wishes to give me his private practise, since he's ready to retire. He has some markedly sociopathic tendencies, which I think is why we get along so swimmingly well. Your recent posts on bloodlust resonate with me. (Neuro)Surgery satisfies that urge for me. I mean, hell, I get to use a bone saw. Doesn't get much better than that, haha. I would say an attorney as well. We have the natural charm to work the jury. Any profession that involves power, prestige and wealth in many forms is, in my opinion, attractive to us.

Obviously our unique skills qualify us for various illegal careers as well. Those weren't on my radar until recently, but they seem a very good fit for some.

I have considered doing something physical like boxing or stunts, where I would get to be violent and cater to my thrill seeking nature, I worry about things like brain damage and maiming.

I think the key is to be flexible. Always choose the most flexible career paths that focus on cultivating your own skill sets (internships, apprenticeships, grad school). The longer you put off getting a stable, consistent, real job, the better I think. Because you won't really be able to stay in the exact same position with the exact same people longer than a few years without having problems. I think mobility and lack of oversight are the key to long term success.

Mental illness explained for children: Lilo & Stitch, Stitch Has a Glitch

"Lilo & Stitch: Stitch Has a Glitch" is probably the best children's film I've seen that deals with mental illness. The first Lilo & Stitch introduces the character Stitch is an alien who was originally built to destroy:

"626 was designed to be a monster, but now he has nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like to have nothing, not even memories to look back on in the middle of the night?"

But Stitch does find a greater purpose in becoming part of the family of a little Hawaiian girl named Lilo who tries and largely succeeds in taming his aggression.

Still, Stitch's bad past sometimes haunts him, and "Stitch Has a Glitch" opens up with Stitch having nightmares about his past. Lilo decides to help: "We need to test your goodness level. For example, someone bad would let this Elvis Blue Hawaii lamp . . . smash to pieces against that wall. Or let my favourite book, Plastic Surgeries Gone Wrong, drop out this window to be lost forever. Or let his family member fall to her painful, crushing death. No! See? Look at all the good things you did."

But there is something wrong with Stitch. When his eyes turn green, he starts misbehaving. No one knows what is wrong. But then they figure it out, during Stitch's creation, he wasn't fully charged, which caused the "glitch". "Now his circuits are going haywire. He can't control it."

Lilo's approach to Stitch's problems is to get him to act more like her hero, Elvis Presley, but the plan backfires as Stitch continues to behave poorly and anger many people in their community. Stitch tries to do good things to fill up his goodness level, but it doesn't compensate for the bad he has done in the eyes of his friends.

"You ruin everything."

"It's not my fault."

"Then whose fault is it?!"

Lilo decides to give Stitch one more chance, but only if he promises to do good. Unfortunately he has another bad episode and Lilo snaps at him, "I don't know why I ever believed you."

"Something wrong with Stitch," Stitch tries to explain.

"I know what's wrong with you. You're bad. And you'll always be bad."

The scientist tries to fix Stitch using science, but he can't. Stitch keeps getting worse until he decides to leave because he is too bad and too dangerous to be around the people he loves -- a subtle allusion to suicide that is done in a tasteful way that is still appropriate for small children by having Stitch try and fail to leave the planet on his spaceship. When Lilo finally catches up with him, she fears that it is too late:

"I'm so sorry. I kept saying how I needed you. But you needed me more. You're my ohana, Stitch. And I'll always love you."

In this case there is a happy ending, but there is often not a happy ending when people, family and friends struggle to deal with mental illness. But this film provides an excellent example of these struggles that all ages can relate to. 

Sociopaths = slightly less violent than toddlers

David Dobbs writes for the NY Times about the progression from violent toddlers (everyone), to become less violent children (most everyone) to becoming hardly violent at all adults (a lot of people):

To understand the violent criminal, says Richard E. Tremblay, imagine a 2-year-old boy doing the things that make the terrible twos terrible — grabbing, kicking, pushing, punching, biting.

Now imagine him doing all this with the body and resources of an 18-year-old.

You have just pictured both a perfectly normal toddler and a typical violent criminal as Dr. Tremblay, a developmental psychologist at University College Dublin in Ireland, sees them — the toddler as a creature who reflexively uses physical aggression to get what he wants; the criminal as the rare person who has never learned to do otherwise.

In other words, dangerous criminals don’t turn violent. They just stay that way.
***
“It’s highly reliable,” said Brad J. Bushman, a psychology professor at Ohio State University and an expert on child violence, who noted that toddlers use physical aggression even more than people in violent youth gangs do. “Thank God toddlers don’t carry weapons.”
***
The rate of violence peaks at 24 months, declines steadily through adolescence and plunges in early adulthood. But as Dr. Tremblay and Daniel S. Nagin, a criminologist at Carnegie Mellon University, found in a pivotal 1999 study, a troublesome few do not follow this pattern.
***
To Dr. Tremblay, the findings suggest cause for optimism: that humans more readily learn civility than they do cruelty.

We start as toddlers. We learn through conditioning, as we heed requests not to hit others but to use our words. We learn self-control. Beginning in our third year, we learn social strategies like bargaining and charm. Perhaps most vital, we use a developing brain to read situations and choose among these learned tactics and strategies.

I wonder if the non-violent sociopaths were the ones that as children started focusing more on negotiation and charm to get their way (as opposed to the violent sociopaths who remained heavy-handed in their techniques).

The rest article is interesting, especially when it discusses how Tremblay became interested in human violence only because he grew up with a father who was a professional football player and was fascinated that there were certain areas of life in which violence was not only accepted, it was praised. See also, glorification of violence in media, video games, and many other areas of our entertainment lives.

Guest post: The Next Generation

I've long been struck by the idea of childhood diagnosis of sociopaths--of exactly how early and easily we can be spotted.  I, myself, was pretty aware of my own differences at an early age.  Couldn't describe it back then, but I always saw the difference, that desire to compete fiercely, and even humiliate, break, and if possible, injure the competition in a way that never led back to me, all while playing adults like fiddles.  Because of this history, I recently recognized another small sociopath with absolute clarity.

Recently, my wife and I were on vacation visiting friends of ours from grad school. They have a five-year-old boy.  It was like looking at a little version of myself.  Seeing this kid take joy in first playing with his puppy, and slowly but surely escalating the play and contact to the level of inflicting intentional pain.  I recognized on his part that he knew precisely when he was crossing a line--looking up, causing the pain when he thought no adult was looking, and the false regret in his voice but clearly not his eyes when caught.  It was like looking back in time into a mirror.  He didn't reserve his violence and force for his pet, either, but also targeted both his parents and my wife and I.   When his parents tried to use the old parenting canard of "you're hurting mommy and daddy" which usually reduces kids to crying, mewling shame-balls, their son only grinned.

If seeing his joy at this weren't a recognition of my own childhood feelings when I caused physical or emotional pain, the cinch was seeing his uncanny understanding of social dynamics, and the privileged role that most kids occupy in society which saves them from adult wrath.  In other words, this child was manipulative beyond his years.  Again, something familiar to myself.

By looking at him, you wouldn't think he's growing up in a nurturing, progressive, yuppie household where both parents hold doctorate degrees (or on second thought, maybe you would).  His parents were oblivious to their little 'angel' and the intentionality of his aggression.  Or at least have developed a practiced obliviousness.

But what surprised me most was how quickly a weekend around a small version of myself stirred up territorial feelings.  Those feelings made me think of the practices of male lions direct towards a competitor's cubs.  Good thing I live half a country away.