The natural born chameleon?

My friend recently told me, "I think it's funny that you are so impressionable, that you think of yourself as a void, because you are one of the strongest personalities I know. You are so distinctive and peculiar."

I could see what she meant. Everyone who knows me for longer than a few hours realizes that I am "quirky." I say all the right words and do all the right moves, but don't quite have the social fluency to seem completely normal. I can also be very lazy about maintaining a mask, particularly in low risk situations or with people who don't matter. Despite seeming distinctive and peculiar, however, I am still extremely impressionable.

Some of the psychologists that I have talked to via the blog have expressed surprise that I consider impressionability and the related weak-sense-of-self to be sociopathic traits. I don't know why they would be surprised. There must be some reason why we are so good at being chameleons, I always just assumed that it was instinctive, a symptom of who I am. Blending in has more or less been a reflex for me as long as I can remember, as it has been for most sociopaths I have known. For instance, this reader:

I moved a lot as a child. I knew how to adapt a fresh persona and ways to gain friends in an expedient fashion before I knew my long division. I also was obliged to lie, convincingly so, about who I was. For years I wasn't even allowed to use my own name and acknowledge where I was from.

When you speak of impressionability, that for me was sort of a survival tactic. America has many different cultural microcosms that vary so much, if they didn't speak English you'd guess it was a different country. I had to learn the local social norms and adapt to them quickly, and also their accents and local lexicon. Even more lizard-brain style mannerisms would be local, like specific body language gestures. In that case, I guess it isn't necessarily lizard-brain, but you understand.

I essentially spent years learning how to be other people. So much so, that I had no idea who I even was when I was allowed to be Me again. I still don't even know if I have a real Me. And it doesn't bug me, either, if anything, it entertains me.

I know for a fact that I did some very odd antisocial behavior, like practice emoting in front of a mirror, accents, etc. but when I was that age, I didn't realize that everyone came with their own emotional cheat-sheet, and I was the only one that had to study for the test.

When I read things like this or think back on my own early experiences, I wonder -- do we learn how to be chameleons? Is it learned behavior to subjugate who we "really are," perhaps as a survival tactic? And maybe after we've pretended for so many years we just forget who we used to be? Or are we born with our shapeshifting abilities? Maybe we're like liquids or gases, always taking on the shape of our environment. Because we do have some finite qualities, we just have no where near the rigidity of the typical empath.

Sociopathic Buddhism: tautology or contradiction?

One of the most sought after sociopathic traits by normal people is the ability to be "zen" in the face of stress or danger. I've always suspected there may be a connection to the sort of consciousness that sociopaths experience and that sought to be attained by Buddhists, so I was glad when a reader took the time to explain the connection to me:

Consciousness is something that has always fascinated me, but until recently I've only explored it intellectually, not directly. I've been experimenting with Zen meditation for a few months now, and it occurred to me one day that there are some interesting parallels between sociopathy and Zen Buddhism, such as emotional detachment, no strong attachment to a self, not buying into belief systems, and having a focus on the present. Also, Buddhists, like sociopaths, can appear to outsiders as unemotional, or emotionally cold. However, Buddhists do appreciate emotions and actions that are spontaneous, and from the gut, just not those arising from the intellect. Given the above, I wonder if Buddhism, in spite of being a religion, would hold a special appeal to the sociopathic mind?

Is it possible even that the sociopathic mind is closer to enlightenment? Empaths identify so closely with emotions and find emotions so compelling, that I wonder if they would have a harder time attaining Buddhist awareness than logical, less emotional individuals, and might be more likely to fall into the trap of merely chasing after a spiritual high? Or would sociopaths, in spite of their detachment and greater awareness, have a harder time letting go of the scheming?

Being fully in the present requires letting go of the attachment to all thoughts, including concepts such as empathy, sociopathy, conscience, power, control, good, evil, and most importantly the self. It also requires letting go of the attachment to feelings, which are also a type of thought. You have to stop both thinking and feeling. As long as we are thinking (or feeling), we are busy either reflecting or anticipating. We're making a story from what is happening around us, and caught up in some illusion or other. Buddhists maintain that we suffer because we live in such states of illusion perpetuated by our thoughts. Giving up attachment to our thoughts brings awareness, and with awareness comes freedom from illusion, and thus freedom from suffering. With awareness also comes compassion. The compassion arises from experiencing directly, through meditation, our connection to everything and everyone. It doesn't matter if you are an empath or a sociopath. According to Buddhists, we all have this Buddha nature, even if we don't know it. We are all the same.

Looking at it this way, the difference between a sociopath and empath is only an illusion.

Here is a quote from "No self. No problem" by Anam Thubten, that I liked, that puts it well: "When one illusion doesn't work then we become disillusioned and we go around with our antennae up looking for another illusion. We look for one we don't associate with any memories of being disillusioned, one with no sense of disappointment. We look for something new, something different, something better. When we don't find an illusion we like, we make a big deal out of it. We say we're having a spiritual crisis. We're going through the dark night of the soul. We feel that the ground beneath our feet is shaky. We don't like being in darkness, in emptiness. We want to find an illusion that gives us comfort, that gives us what could be called a psychological massage. Soon we find another illusion, one that is full of promise."

You could say that, in a way, the sociopaths give empaths a psychological massage.

And from the other side of the fence, here is an excerpt from an article criticizing Buddhism (quoted here): "Even if you achieve a blissful acceptance of the illusory nature of your self, this perspective may not transform you into a saintly bodhisattva, brimming with love and compassion for all other creatures. Far from it—and this is where the distance between certain humanistic values and Buddhism becomes most apparent. To someone who sees himself and others as unreal, human suffering and death may appear laughably trivial. This may explain why some Buddhist masters have behaved more like nihilists than saints. Chogyam Trungpa, who helped introduce Tibetan Buddhism to the United States in the 1970s, was a promiscuous drunk and bully, and he died of alcohol-related illness in 1987. Zen lore celebrates the sadistic or masochistic behavior of sages such as Bodhidharma, who is said to have sat in meditation for so long that his legs became gangrenous."

The darker side of Buddhism, or the misunderstanding of an unenlightened mind?

Missing you

A lot of people ask me why a sociopath who has ended a relationship would still go through a great deal of effort to ensure that contact is never cut off completely.

When sociopaths are involved in any serious relationship, they become a special version of themselves just for that person. I think the sociopath's desire to check in is a desire to reconnect with that person that he once was, the same way that people might nostalgically flip through photo albums, even if the photos are only of themselves. Why to people go to a reunion? Is it really to catch up with old friends, or more to remember who they used to be?

And why can't we be multiple things to multiple people? I've been thinking recently whether I collect other people, or whether I allow myself to be collected. Even worthless junk can become priceless in the hands of the right collector.

Inventing yourself: dangerous liaisons

This is a classic portrayal of a female sociopath, but the general principles apply to everyone who knows they are different in an inhospitable world but refuse to just lay down and die.

Sociopath child, to teen, to adult

Based on my own personal experiences and the experiences of many others, I have come to believe that there are certain key developmental stages that most (high-functioning?) sociopaths experience when growing up. I believe these developmental experiences are much more consistent across young sociopaths than the trinity of animal torture, fire play, and bed wetting, albeit less observable by a third party.

Sociopath child tends to slip under the radar at first because all young children are self-centered and frequently perverse. He is unaware that he is different from others until about age 11 or 12. At this age, he realizes that he has missed a cognitive/emotional fork in the road somewhere along the way (age of 4-6?), a departure from the developmental path of his peers that does not manifest itself until years later. This manifestation is characterized by a short Asperger's like social awkwardness and social rejection beginning just before the age of puberty. All of sociopath child's hormonally/emotionally driven peers are acting differently, and in ways that sociopath child doesn't understand or respect. Sociopath child doesn't play their game at first, doesn't bother to try to pretend to be an idiot like them, insisting instead that they adapt to him. They do not adapt to him, but rather reject him socially as being a nonconformist "weirdo". It becomes clear to pre-teen sociopath relatively quickly (1-2 months?) that the days of effortless fitting in that he enjoyed throughout his childhood are over. The rules have changed, his survival instincts kick in, and he realizes at some level that even if he can't understand why his peers are behaving the way they do, he must learn to adapt. Specifically sociopath teen must learn how to actively pretend to be like everyone else. In terms of mask-wearing skills, pre-teen sociopath is like the smart kid who has always "naturally" done well at school, who suddenly goes to secondary school or university and realizes that he must study to get good marks. Likewise, although child sociopath "naturally" fit in with ease, pre-teen sociopath must learn people study skills. He will use these skills in monitoring his peers to discover what he is missing and to mirror these traits back to them.

Young teen sociopath eventually overcomes this little roadblock (1-2 years?) by acquiring a baseline proficiency at mimicry and manipulation. This process hardens him to the humanity of others. To accomplish his goals, he has resorted to objectifying everyone around him, seeing them either as targets, threats, or assets.

Teen sociopath gets more reckless with his manipulation exploits as he gets more comfortable with his skills. He sometimes makes mistakes, pushes people too far, makes people very angry. These moments are frequently overlooked or quickly papered over because his peers are in such developmental flux themselves. His worst moments are written off as being hormonally based or isolated incidents. As his peers mature, however, teen sociopath's tactics will begin to seem heavy handed and artificial to them. They will tire of the manipulation and will start responding negatively to his primitive skills.

As late teen sociopath begins experiencing more pushback/blowback from his increasingly riskier exploits, he will begin to see that the majority of his life consists of manipulation and mask wearing. Late teen sociopath begins to truly understand who he is only after one of his friends hates him.

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Despite his increasing social difficulties, late teen sociopath will try to ignore the warning signs that suggest that he is not just different, but damaged. This is, after all, the only way of life he has ever known. He will do anything to maintain his status quo, including going to war against anyone who would threaten it, including himself.

Self-deception will reach a fever pitch in the early twenties as he tries to convince himself that nothing is wrong with him or what he is doing. Young adult sociopath will eventually hit some form of rock bottom, however it is that he defines that to himself. If he is smart, this will be the impetus for him to do some deep "soul" searching, and come up with some other, more sustainable way of living. If he is not smart, he will keep repeating this pattern indefinitely -- cheap manipulation tricks, backlash, self-deception, return to the status quo of cheap tricks.

For the sociopaths who move beyond the cycle of self-deception, the typical age of self-awareness is early to mid twenties, although it can still happen into the early thirties.

This is what I have come to expect in the portrayal of the development of a sociopath from small child through his mid-twenties, at least in broad strokes. Again, I think these are relatively consistent experiences, at least among high-functioning sociopaths. Depending on where the sociopath is in the stage, though, they may or may not see things this way. For instance, child sociopath doesn't realize he is manipulating, pre-teen may not necessarily be able to articulate a missed "cognitive fork," etc., but I have found that sociopaths who make it out of the cycle of self-deception will more or less recognize themselves in this description. Thoughts?

Borderline personality disorder vs. sociopathy

This was an interesting article from the Psychology Today blog relating an experiment done examining the brain activity of sociopaths and comparing it to that of people with borderline personality disorder. Why these two disorders? Apparently, sociopathic and borderline traits occur with equal frequency among violent offenders, but they reach their antisocial behavior in different ways:

Typically, antisocial offenders with borderline personality disorder are emotionally reactive, unable to regulate emotions, bereft of cognitive empathy (knowing how another person feels), rageful, and reactively aggressive. By contrast, antisocial offenders with high psychopathic traits can be characterized as emotionally detached, cognitively empathic, morally problematic, exploitative, and proactively and reactively aggressive.

The experiment:

The investigators took MRI scans of the two groups of antisocial offenders, with the aim of exploring differences in the cerebral structure of their brains. All offenders had been convicted for capital, violent crimes (including severe bodily injury such as murder, manslaughter, robbery, or rape) from high-security forensic facilities and penal institutions and were formally diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. There was also a comparison group of healthy men.

The results:

The antisocial offenders with borderline personality disorder had alterations in the orbitofrontal and ventromedial prefrontal cortex regions, which are involved in emotion regulation and reactive aggression; there were also differences in the temporal pole, which is involved in the interpretation of other peoples’ motives. By contrast, the antisocial offenders with high psychopathic traits showed reduced volume mostly in midline cortical areas, which are involved in the processing of self-referential information and self reflection (i.e., dorsomedial prefrontal cortex, posterior cingulate/precuneus) and recognizing emotions of others (postcentral gyrus). 

I thought this was interesting. I wrote previously about the connection between sociopathy and alexithymia, or the decreased ability to identify, understand, and describe one's own emotions. This trait has been linked to a lack of empathy, the idea being that if you are unable to understand your own emotions, you don't stand much of a chance of understanding the emotional worlds of others. I feel like I don't understand my emotions, that they feel out of context to me, like I'm getting only snippets of a movie played backwards. This feeling probably contributes to my weak sense of self. This brain scan study seems to comport with this theory -- that sociopaths suffer from an ability to process self-referential information and to self-reflect, and that consequently sociopaths have flexible understandings of not only morality, but basically every human trait.

Identity

A sociopath-leaning reader asked, "How are you able to determine your true self? Your true interests, your true you and not just a collection of identities you've worn?" My answer:

Good question. I guess I don't really expect there to be some underlying true me. I am partly my experiences. I am even more so my thoughts. I see my identity as being more a formula, less the numbers that get plugged in, and especially not the result of the formula. I am the way I perceive the world, the way I choose what I decide. Does that work for you? I know it's nice to think that you are someone or something definable. I call this the Harry Potter syndrome, people who want more than anything else to have some strange white bearded old man show up to their door and say -- don't worry, there's a reason why you are different, it's because you're a wizard, and not only are you a wizard, but you're a celebrity. Don't we all wish that we had that sort of defining purpose to our life. But we don't, I'm afraid. And those people that aren't like us are largely just amalgamations themselves. Or maybe you believe this: "People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. But the self is not something one finds, it is something one creates." Thomas Szasz

Reader's response:

I appreciate your well-reasoned response. Your example of the Harry Potter syndrome is right-on. I have always been unable to really grasp the Western culture, and especially American culture, desperate need to be succinctly defined, for their need to be truly unique, and their love of the ostentatious. For a while I thought my problem with the "masks" was that I never felt like their was a significant purpose and I have never been able to believe in a god or the other supernatural, though I did play the religious role quite well when I was a wee one.

Sociopaths = primed for happiness?

I recently found out my death year is in the 2070s and thought, wow, that long? Better find some way to entertain myself... But I think a lot of people must be thinking the same thing. We no longer live hard and fast, struggling to meet the basic requirements of survival. With our survival all but assured, our minds are free to wonder, what else is there to life? For most people, it's not about the quest for meaning or heaven or anything else, but rather happiness that people seek most, reports the cover article in Psychology Today this month. What is the secret to happiness? Recent research suggests counterintuitive results -- people who engage in "activities that lead us to feel uncertainty, discomfort, and even a dash of guilt." Sound like anyone you know?

First, happy people seek stimulation:

Curiosity, it seems, is largely about exploration—often at the price of momentary happiness. Curious people generally accept the notion that while being uncomfortable and vulnerable is not an easy path, it is the most direct route to becoming stronger and wiser. In fact, a closer look at the study by Kashdan and Steger suggests that curious people invest in activities that cause them discomfort as a springboard to higher psychological peaks.

Reminds me of this recent post on doing things the hard way.

Second, happy people are unflaggingly optimistic, even delusionally so, even to the point of gullibility:

A standard criticism of happy people is that they're not realistic—they sail through life blissfully unaware of the world's ills and problems. Satisfied people are less likely to be analytical and detail-oriented. A study led by University of New South Wales psychologist Joseph Forgas found that dispositionally happy people—those who have a general leaning toward the positive—are less skeptical than others. They tend to be uncritically open toward strangers and thus can be particularly gullible to lies and deceit. Think of the happy granny who is overcharged at the car dealership by the smiling salesperson compared with more discerning, slightly less upbeat consumers.

Reminds me of this recent tweet.

"Even if you took every precaution in the world, you could still be manipulated. Or maybe a plane will fall on your head. Why stress?"
— M.E. (@sociopathworld) August 8, 2013

Third, they tend to not care about brass rings, don't really run in the rat race:

Similarly, the happiest people possess a devil-may-care attitude about performance. In a review of the research literature by Oishi and his colleagues, the happiest people—those who scored a 9 or 10 out of 10 on measures of life satisfaction—tended to perform less well than moderately happy people in accomplishments such as grades, class attendance, or work salaries. In short, they were less conscientious about their performance; to them, sacrificing some degree of achievement seems to be a small price to pay for not having to sweat the small stuff.

People who have a more fluid sense of self (see also Buddhists):

The ability to shift mental states as circumstances demand turns out to be a fundamental aspect of well-being.

Other counterintuitive tidbits that don't necessarily fit sociopaths (but should!) include giving to and serving others makes you happy, being happy for other people makes you happy, accepting your negative emotions and what that means about you, etc. Of course sense of purpose also matters, but it seems to be more a sense of forward progression:

If you want to envision a happy person's stance, imagine one foot rooted in the present with mindful appreciation of what one has—and the other foot reaching toward the future for yet-to-be-uncovered sources of meaning.

Fictional sociopaths: Tom Ripley

A reader sent me a movie clip with this description:

Also, here’s another video that I always resonated with. It’s John Malkovich’s portrayal of Tom Ripley in Ripley’s Game. I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen that movie, but it’s nicely done. You could say Ripley’s game boils down to manipulating what had been a relatively innocent man into committing murder. In fact, the scene starts right after they’ve killed several mobsters on a train. They got off the train and are in a station restroom (the relevant part starts at 3:40 and ends at about 5:10). “The one thing I know is we are constantly being born.” Very true indeed, truer than most people realize.


[Ripley has just helped Jonathan kill three mobsters]

Jonathan Trevanny: [crying] I know I should thank you, because I wouldn't be alive now if you hadn't helped me.... but I can't. I can't say thank you. I don't know anything about you. Who are you?

Tom Ripley: I'm a creation. A gifted improviser. I lack your conscience and, when I was young, that troubled me. It no longer does. I don't worry about being caught because I don't think anyone is watching. The world is not a poorer place because those people are dead — it's not. It's one less car on the road, a little less noise and menace. You were brave today. You'll go home and put some money away for your family. That's all.

Jonathan Trevanny: If you "lack my conscience," then why did you help me on the train?

Tom Ripley: [smiles] I don't know, but it doesn't surprise me. If there's one thing I know, it's that we're constantly being born.

Jonathan Trevanny: But why me? Why did you pick me?

Tom Ripley: Partly because you could. Partly because you insulted me. But mostly because that's the game. [checks watch] We need to catch this flight. Shall we?

John Malcovich's are some of the most convincing portrayals of a sociopath I've seen.

Self-reference

Via exp.lore.com:

"In the end… We are self-perceiving, self-creating, locked-in mirages. We are miracles of self-reference."



Based on the ideas in Douglas Hofstadter’s 1979 classic Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid.

You are what you eat

I am very impressionable. I am so impressionable that the self that I call mine seems to be no more than a hodgepodge collection of everything I have thought, everything i have experienced, everyone I have been around. I used to be very reckless in my youth with what I did, what I chose, what I thought. I wanted to try everything and everyone, wanted to know what else was out there in the world. Everything I did changed me, though, for better or for worse. I didn't realize it at the time, and didn't really realize the extent of it until relatively recently. That thought has made me more circumspect.

I feel like this must be true of non sociopaths as well, but maybe to a lesser extent. Maybe they just don't acknowledge the inherent fluidity of the self? It's interesting to me to think that my body is made up of everything that I have eaten. There is literally nothing about my body that I haven't ingested at one time or another -- not my brain, not my heart, not my lungs, not my eyes or teeth... it's weird thinking that I am made up of cheeseburgers.

People want to know why sociopaths have a hard time letting go sometimes. Some of it may be the thrill of the hunt, the sting of defeat, or vindictiveness. I think for me it is mainly because everyone that has ever been close to me has become a part of me. Like that Paul Young song, every time they go away, they literally take a piece of me with them.

Right and wrong

While I was in the bush, one of my companions had an object lost and likely stolen at one of the lodges we stayed at. Our guide was really angry about it, much more so than my friend. He was very religious and was constantly talking about "that is a very bad thing" (was it?).  At one point he said that he also had been tempted to steal objects from his clients that would have been the equivalent of a week's salary or more for him, but that he had never stolen anything in his adult life. And in that moment, I swear to you, I thought, "yeah, neither have I," despite having spent one year on such a shoplifting spree that I stole more days than not, among other exploits. Of course as I kept thinking about it, I remembered my career as a thief but still found it hilarious that I was nodding along with my uber-moral guide about what a bad thing stealing was.

I have written about this before (and forgotten about it, which is too funny given that the last post was all about how I have a tendency to forget anything shady from my past), but more in the terms of self-awareness. Which doesn't necessarily explain what happened shortly after.

I was watching what essentially was a morality play for children. There was a scene about theft, nearly identical to how I used to steal most frequently. One of the characters had stolen and I felt this anxiousness for him. When his friend suggested that they actually pay for the item, I wanted him to do that. I actually felt that stealing was wrong in this situation. I had a moment where I thought to myself, I am cured! I have a conscience. And then I remembered all of the stealing I had done (again) and asked myself, "why do you think that this instance of stealing is wrong but you never were capable of recognizing it before?" Was it because this children's program had simplified the subject enough and given sufficient cues such that even I was able to pick up on the wrongness of the stealing? Am I fine understanding the abstract concepts of right and wrong, just mixed up on the real world applications? Was the program inherently manipulative, my pangs of .... whatever more a tribute to my easy suggestibility than to having successfully birthed a conscience? Was it because the situation was so parallel to my own past, a past that I had to basically negative condition myself out of, Pavlovian aversion therapy style, in order to get myself to stop and to start leading a more legit lifestyle? I still don't know.

Finding joy beyond self

One of my readers suggested that the exchange between Tinkerbelle and Daniel Birdick here should get its own post. I agree. The thing I particularly like about this exchange is Birdick's description of finding joy and meaning. It's in particular conceptions of self as "good" or even "bad" or anything in particular. It's in other, external things. Sometimes the source happens to be oneself, but it's not for the sake of "being" something, but the sake of having done or experienced something -- having made someone laugh so hard they choke, as opposed to "being hilarious." Maybe it's not quite "selfless," but for being so self-involved, the sociopath happens to enjoy a lot of things that have nothing to do with him or how he feels about himself.

Here it is, starting with Daniel Birdick:


This post stayed with me because I believe it encapsulates one of the “sociopath’s” defining characteristics: the inability to believe in self. “Normal’s” have a more or less static sense of self. This sense of self includes but is not limited to beliefs about morality, politics, religion, and of course sexuality and gender. “Sociopaths”, not so much. My theory is that “sociopaths” are unable to believe the story the left hemisphere of the brain constantly spins about who and what the self is the way “normals” do. The aware “sociopath” knows he/she is wearing a mask. The “normals” believe the mask they wear is who they really are. The aware “sociopath” has a better chance of understanding humanity’s true nature as a result of his/her inability to believe while “normals” live and die by the cobweb of illusion their brains ceaselessly spin about the self. Metaphorically speaking, the aware and intelligent “socio/psychopath” is the last of mankind’s prophets. Their very existence serves as a living testimony to the nihilistic truth of the universe. 

Mark Twain said it well, (if a little melodramatically): “you are but a thought -- a vagrant thought, a useless thought, a homeless thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities!"

Tinkerbelle:

Mr Birdick....what make's you happy? If sociopaths believe in nothingness and have no sense of self....what do you actually enjoy in life except "ruining" those around you. I did think that your post had a point, i understood your perspective, i really did, however what is there to look forward to in life if the left side of the brains hemisphere doesn't constantly spin a sense of self? Is life pointless?, You have me thinking now.

Daniel Birdick:


Hello Tinkerbelle.

What makes me happy? Jamaica Delights. Watching the sun rise over the ocean. The rich green color of freshly cut grass. Good music. A well delivered punch line. Cheesecake. Brilliant acting. A perfectly cooked T-bone steak. An expertly crafted movie, one where all the elements that go into great filmmaking are there on the screen. Watching my little niece run happily toward me. Devising effective stratagems to deal with the ceaseless power game that passes for “human adulthood”. I could go on and on, but you get the point. I enjoy many of the kinds of things I suspect you enjoy. I just don’t need to indulge in just so stories, like “Daniel is a republican, democrat, straight, gay, bi, would never kill, hates lying, and so on” to experience that enjoyment.

Is life pointless? Yeah, it is. Meaning and purpose are nothing more than products of the human consciousness, which is itself prone to self deception and delusion. (Witness the spectacle of billions of people all over the globe prostrating themselves before their invisible friends for instance.) Fortunately, it isn’t necessary to believe in meaning, purpose, morality or “selfhood” to enjoy the exchange of ideas or take delight in the taste of ice cream on a hot summer day or have great sex.

This may very well be one of the main things that bother “normals” about “sociopaths”. We at least have the potential to enjoy many of the things they enjoy without the baggage of having to negotiate with an inborn conscience. This fact may gall them because it makes a mockery of all their precious beliefs about morality and meaning.


Tinkerbelle:


If life really is pointless we all may as well lay down and die this very second. Why waste one's time? I've often pondered the "point". Sociopaths don't offend me with their views, people are who they are. Besides the topic is a damn good juicy debate!
I just think to myself that its ashame sometimes thats all (not in a condescending manner)...I can only imagine sociopathy to be like only ever watching black and white film's. Beautiful no doubt, yet two tone, empathy is like experiencing a film in burts of technicolour. Creativity stems from emotion. 

Maybe sociopathy misses the "point". Then again maybe not?...who truely knows?


Daniel Birdick:


Hi Tinkerbelle. You're right. These kinds of discussions are fascinating. It gives me an opportunity to exercise my mental muscles. Thanks for being my "spotter", so to speak. ;-) 

Now to address your comments-

Tinkerbelle said: “If life really is pointless we all may as well lay down and die this very second.” 

Is that true? Are you certain that this must be the inevitable outcome of discovering that life is meaningless? That would be akin to a 12 year old deciding that she’s never going to celebrate Christmas again after finding out that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. That would be a valid option, like any other, but not a necessary one. 

“Why waste one's time?” 

Why not? Besides, it’s only a waste if you define it as such. You have far greater power to define your personal experience of life than you know.

“I can only imagine sociopathy to be like only ever watching black and white film's. Beautiful no doubt, yet two tone, empathy is like experiencing a film in burts of technicolour. Creativity stems from emotion.”

You could be right. Even if you are right, even if “normals” greater facility for empathy is makes their experience of life richer, that doesn’t make it any truer and that’s my “point”. Emotions are no more an indicator of truth than speaking in tongues is an indicator that god exists. Being honest with myself is my highest value. Truth is what matters to me, not pretty lies. Even if I wanted to believe the fairytales others guide their lives by, I’ve discovered that I am incapable of it. Take empathy for example. Empathy literally means to vicariously experience the feelings of others. Your brain calculates what it might be like to feel what someone else is feeling and creates that experience within you. The literal experience of empathy is an evolutionary adaptation which I believe stems from the human drive to bond with other humans. But here’s the rub. You can’t really experience another person’s subjective state. You can only ever experience yourself and your own projections. So in a sense, empathy is as deceptive as morality is. Which again, is my point. The aware “sociopath” doesn’t miss the point because there isn’t one to miss.

Immune to insecurities

I am dating someone who has loads of insecurities, body image issues, career dissatisfaction, etc. The insecurities are not to the point that they're annoying, they're just there and in ways in which this person readily accepts about themselves. The whole thing is actually pretty attractive to the sadist in me. But it has also gotten me thinking about what it means to be insecure. See, I don't think I've ever been insecure. I know it sounds absurd. It’s not like I think that I am the best at everything. I am well-aware of my many failings. I guess it’s just that they don’t bother me, and I certainly don’t identify with them in this bizarre, fixated way that I often see people do.

I was talking to my friend about this, because she often suggests that I am overly secure with myself. We had the following conversation:

M.E.: I think you're the one that's really made me realize that I am basically not insecure about anything

Friend: If anything you're oblivious

M.E.: Oblivious?

Friend: To others reactions or positions which in turn insulates you and makes you immune

Very insightful, I thought. I do seem to have the ability to be targetedly oblivious to things. I know in the abstract that there are people who hate or judge me, but I probably wouldn't be able to name specific people. Is this the origin of my confidence? Is it really because I don't care what people think, or that I think they're wrong, or maybe that I just am blind to others disapproval.

Modernity and self

A reader sent some of her thoughts and selections from her dissertation on modernity that I found to be interesting, particularly with regard to the modern conception of self.  I edited them, so I apologize if they have lost something in the process:

About the writer Katherine Mansfield: "She was like a lantern with many windows - not octagonal, but centagonal. Each friend had his or her window and Katherine gave generously, gave all to each one, of her light, through that window. That was why so many people thought they were, not just one of her friends, but her only friend. She did not give the lantern (Me, the writer of this post, as Katherine herself, believe there was no such unifying lantern) and no one could touch the flame - and if anything came too close she would withdraw or close the leaves".

Extract from the modernist Katherine Mansfield's "The Dove's House": The main character, about his little son: "a queer thing is I can´t connect him with my wife and myself - I've never accepted him as ours. Each time when I come into the hall and see the preambulator I catch myself thinking: H'm, someone has brought a baby!" And later on: "if the impermanent selves of my wife and me are happy - tant mieux pour nous (...) But I don´t know, I don´t know. And it may be that it's something entirely individual in me -this sensation (yes, it is even a sensation) of how extraordinarily shell-like we are as we are - little creatures, peering out of the sentry-box at the gate, ogling through our glass case at the entry, wan little servants, who never can say for certain, even, if the master is out or in (...)".

Katherine Mansfield herself: "Coleridge on Hamlet. "He plays that subtle trick of pretending to act when he is very near being what he acts"... So do we all begin by acting and the nearer we are to what we would be the more perfect our desguise. Finally here comes the moment when we are no longer acting; it may even catch us by surprise. We may look in amazement at our no longer borrowed plumage. The two have merged; that which we put on has joined that which was; acting has become action. The soul has accepted this livery for its own after a time of trying on and approving (...) And the Hamlet is lonely. The solitary person always acts". 

And then you've got the anthropologist René Girard, who bases his whole theory on the idea that Humanity desperately NEEDS identity, and has an innate fear of indiferentiation (aka lack of a well differenced personal identity), giving totally crazy examples like the fear of twins in many cultures. People saw them as a subconscious menace to DIFFERENCE, and so a personification of chaos (they apparently used to sacrifice them). Chaos leading to violence. So lack of identity, or indifference, leads to  violence in human societies. A socio with no identity is a potential danger. A normal person with no identity is a potential danger. The problem is that we do find trouble in defending the SELF nowadays. Hard work if you really have some sincere insight. Tell it to Nietzche and all the others forerunners of the unexisting reliable self. 

Simone Weil also said: "I see the world as if I were not in it." this type of distance supreme and contemplation, which is in the antipodes of indifference, perhaps looking at the infinite and original world and man's purity and of which we have grown wary? This is an effort to free the world from the opaqueness of our presence, of that barrier between the object and a clean, truthful eye.

And then you've got that in modern writers:
From Katherine Mansfield:

"... a self which is continuous and permanent; which... thrusts a scaled bud through years of darkness until, one day, the light discovers it and shakes the flower free and - we are alive-  we are flowering for our moment upon the earth. This is the moment which, after all, we live for - the moment of direct feeling when we are most ourself and least personal". 

I could go on and on... We are playing on the league of the great thinkers of last century as well as our own. I'm sick of it. I wish I had been born an uber-empath in some hidden village of France five hundred years ago. A cow to milk, a husband to love and an early dead. 

Or I wish I was a little less pretty: less power, less thrill for life, a boring, early, happy marriage, and (fingers crossed) and EARLY DEAD. 

The gendered sociopath

A reader writes about how sociopathic men understand women differently than normal men:


It seems to be common among a good majority of men that, men just "can't understand" women. Like they can't understand why women act certain ways about certain things, or why they feel certain ways of certain things that the men can't seem to understand.

Do you think this applies to sociopathic men? Me, I've always considered myself an abstract thinker, I don't see any big mystery behind women. I understand women are psychologically different and therefore emotionally value certain things in a different manner. Yet, somehow, 'normal' men do not understand this?

Are "normal" men just so involved in their own emotional impulses that it blinds them from understanding the emotional impulses of women? Perhaps sociopaths are not blinded because they are not heavily involved in their emotions, and as a result they can better understand the emotional impulses of others, namely, members of the opposite sex.


I thought it was an interesting theory, and probably accurate. I believe that sociopaths don't project their own mental states on people as often as empaths do (or even other non empaths because narcissists and autism spectrum types also project all the time, with autism spectrum people not having hardly any theory of mind at all).

For the sociopath, it's not any big mystery that men and women think differently and it's as easy to understand the one as the other. It could also have something to do with the fact that sociopaths don't identify as much with their gender, so do not have the same gender specific blindspots as most people do.

Shame and justification (part 2)

For the sociopath's part, I don't think we're motivated by feelings of shame or embarrassment, although I hesitate to make a completely categorical statement.

This is not to say that sociopaths do not come up with stories to explain their behavior, sometimes seemingly outrageous stories like "I killed him because he looked at me funny."  They can and they do.  But everyone wants to explain their behavior. It helps give them a sense of purpose, of self-knowledge, and more importantly of control. If you don't know why you do things, then how do you know that it is even you who is choosing to do them?

The sociopath killer who says he killed someone because of a funny look is not attempting to justify his behavior so much as explain it to himself.  And it is an explanation.  Maybe the killing was an impulsive act, but it was prompted by something, in this case the look the victim gave him.  Perhaps a sociopath might take it one or two steps further and add "I don't allow people to disrespect me," or some general opinion about the small value of human life, but the sociopath is just reflecting on the "why" of the action, not the "what does the fact that I have performed this action say about me and my own concept of self?"  So unlike narcissists, sociopaths don't need to justify their behavior, but they'll still seek to explain it.

Another question the narcissist had was how sociopaths view the bad things we do to other people.  He gave this example of how narcissists view this sort of situation:

E.g. take lions that eat wildebeests. The narcissist lion has to convince himself that the wildebeest has it coming to it, or that the lion is doing the wildebeest a favor by eating it. I'm wondering if the sociopath lion has to engage in that sort of self-deception, or if it can just eat the wildebeest and not give a shit.

I don't think sociopaths really blame people so much as attribute their failings back to them. Using the lion example, the lion doesn't think the wildebeest is a bad person "so it had it coming."  For the sociopath, life is a survival of the fittest.  It's enough for the lion that the wildebeest is unable to defend itself. Why did the wildebeest die? In the sociopath's mind the answer is not "because the lion killed it," but "because the wildebeest couldn't run away or defend itself adequately." That's what is really happening when it seems like a sociopath is blaming someone else for the sociopath's own actions. It's more an assigning of responsibility on the victim for not being more vigilant than it is a justification of self according to some rigid construct of being a "good person," like narcissists do

Sociopaths do not view the entire world through the lens of self as much as narcissists do (not surprisingly).  Narcissists tend to think that everything that happens in their world is some sort of direct reflection of them (good person, bad person, whatever).  Sociopaths understand that they are just a cog in a machine.  While they don't completely give up on that idea of cause/effect and personal accountability, sociopaths are much more inclined to believe that what they do is perhaps meaningless.  As arms dealer Viktor Bout said, “If I didn’t do it, someone else would.”

Weak sense of self

A reader sent me this interesting lecture from Stanford Lecturer Kelly McGonigal about the neuroscience behind self-referential processing.  She sums up the main point of her argument thusly: "we carry the seeds of suffering in our own minds, primarily through the human mind's habit of carefully constructing and then rigidly defending a sense of self that is based on our preferences, our attitudes, our beliefs, and our personal stories and that it's this churning of the self machine that gives rise to so much of our daily suffering."




It discusses whether there is some way to have a self-awareness that does not engage the self-referential processing, i.e. an experiential self that is not based on the narrative of self-referential processing or the stories we tell ourselves, but rather is based on "the awareness of the constantly changing feelings, thoughts, and things going on in our environment".  The answer is yes, but only among people who are trained in meditation.  My personal experiences and anecdotal knowledge regarding sociopaths suggests to me that this would also include sociopaths, who naturally have a weak sense of self (see also here), and seem to experience self-awareness almost entirely as the experiential self, not the self-referential self (using her lexicon).

It's interesting too that this lecture was apparently given at a Buddhist conference.  I have never bothered to learn much about Buddhism, but people have frequently remarked here on how the sociopath's detachment from self and lack of anxiety regarding outcomes is what many Buddhists hope to accomplish in order to achieve Nirvana. And sociopaths just happen to be born that way.

Here's what the reader wrote:


There's 3 categories in the experiment:
1) non-meditators
2) recent meditators
3) experienced meditators


My understanding of what happens:
Category 1 feels the pain, then thinks "how long will this go on, why me? oh shit? get away, get away!"


Category 2 feels the pain and focuses on their breathing. They ignore the pain as best they can by focusing on something else. Meditation has given them the ability to concentrate, so they concentrate on something other than the pain.


Category 3 feels the pain and tries to feel and examine it as best they can. They are so busy doing that, moment by moment, they aren't thinking, "why me, how long will this go on" etc. because when they really focus on what they are sensing, as opposed to how things aren't how they would like it, they lose their sense of self.

Song: Everytime you go away

I heard this song the other day out and about and thought that it was oddly applicable.  Every time someone leaves me, they do take a piece of me with them.  That's why I fight so hard to get it/them back.



Baby, if we can't solve any problems
Why do we lose so many tears?
Oh, so you go again
When the leading man appears
Always the same theme
But can't you see we've got everything going on and

Everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you

Go on and go free
Maybe you're too close to see
I can feel your body move
But does it mean that much to me
I can't go on singing the same theme
"Cause you can't see we've got everything
Baby, even though you know that

Everytime you go away
You take a piece of me with you
You just don't care

Narcissists vs. Sociopaths (part 2)

(cont.):


A few points:

Narcissists are addicted to admiration.  Despite looking down on everyone else, they crave admiration from others. They fish for compliments. They strive to accomplish things to win the admiration of others.

Sociopaths don't need admiration from others. They crave power.

Shame is the uncomfortable perception that one's "self" is bad, and doesn't live up to a societal standard. E.g. you steal something because you want it. You don't feel guilt because you don't think your stealing was bad (you have a different sort of conscience than normal people). Then you get caught. If you feel uncomfortably exposed, that feeling is called shame. Sociopaths don't feel shame. Narcissists feel shame very often, but may be completely ignorant that they are feeling shame.

Narcissists are generally unaware of their thoughts, feelings, how others perceive them, etc. To stay comfortable, they deceive themselves about their shortcomings, by ignoring their own constant thoughts of inadequacy, and ignoring any resulting feelings of shame.

Sociopaths know that they don't have strong emotions. They know they fake emotions to fit in. They don't care about the feelings of others, so they don't feel shame.

Narcissists make great cult leaders. Many founders of businesses (e.g. Steve Jobs, Bernie Madoff) are narcissts or malignant. They will generally explain that they are on a quest to change the world for the better.