Tasmania in two days

A funny thing about planning for Australia trip was reading the TripAdvisor forums? People would say things like, how long should I spend in Tasmania, and the response would be like 4-6 weeks is necessary to see everything. Ok, I understand that Tasmanians have a lot of pride about their homeland. And Australians apparently love to be sarcastic? And they also like to have a laugh at others' expense? I have a hard time picking up on sarcasm, but these forums would also just be filled with what I imagined to just be pure misinformation. It made me wonder, who is writing this stuff? I have never visited a place whose TripAdvisor forums were so full of essentially trolls. What is up with that, Tasmanians.

The first couple days I spent at a private residence with my new friend A and her friends. Things I learned are that for some reason it's very easy to get sunburned in Tasmania. Also, we eat freshly slaughtered pigs. Also, eggs always go on toast and get eaten with a knife and fork. Also, the local legal system and local governments seem super corrupt?

There are legitimately road signs warning you to not run over Tasmanian devils, and apparently they are getting close to critically endangered because they're all dying of a contagious mouth cancer that they spread because they're always locking lips and exchanging saliva when they fight. The tumors get so big that the devil actually starves to death.

After hanging out with locals a couple days chatting and getting to know each other, I spent most of my time in Hobart staying in the Argyle Accommodation house, which is patterned after an old boarding house and itself is in a historic building. It's super cheap, nice, and I liked the boarding house vibe, especially since I was up to history on this leg of the trip. The first day in town I went to the Museum of Old and New Art, which is essentially carved three stories into the rock and features extensive collections related to sex and death and sex/death. I recommend taking the ferry, which is a lovely trip up the river.

I also really recommend the Pennicott tours of the Tasman Peninsula, especially if sea cliffs are your jam, like they are with me. You can add on a tour of the Port Arthur prison site. Maybe some of you are more familiar with Australian/UK history than I am, and you can correct any falsehoods I make in the comments or skip what I'm about to say. Australia was a prison colony, I think that's pretty common knowledge. The Industrial Revolution upended the British economy and people who were able to make a decent living in agriculture suddenly found themselves without a marketable skillset. The prisons started swelling and the British first started putting the overflow in beached old ships called "hulks", which apparently were fetid rotting masses of humanity piled on top of each other. But this is how society treats its undesirables. Think Les Miserables and hard labor for stealing food to feed your family. After a few scandals, the British needed somewhere else to send their unwashed masses, so they started forcibly "transporting" them to Australia. If you are familiar with the story of Sweeny Todd, you know that he was fortunate enough to escape and get back to England, although most people who were transported spent the rest of their life away from their homeland and friends and family. Men had it rough, ok, but women prisoners were like forcibly raped the whole time and blamed for being sluts and getting extended prison sentences because of it.

But where do you send the truly badees? They chose the island of Tasmania as a prison within a prison for the hard cases, specifically the isolated end of the Tasman Peninsula at Port Arthur. At its heyday, they guarded against escape by literally setting up a string of angry dogs about every five feet across the most narrow stretch of land connecting the Peninsula.

At various points in the history of the prison, prison conditions were ok and not so ok. The worst was when prison reformers decided that physical punishments only made criminals more hardened, so the key was to go after them psychologically. I'm not 100% sure how he is involved, but utilitarian wunderkind Jeremy Bentham is credited as the origins of these ideas (also invented the prison design the Panopticon.)

What they got up to, then, is the "separate system" or model prison in which all prisoners are kept in isolation of each other. When they go anywhere outside their cell, they wear masks. They exercise in little individual one person yards for a short period, all alone (see photo below). Everything they do is done alone. Even when they go to church, there are walls separating each little seat so they cannot see their fellow man. One thing I read suggested that this came in part from I believe Calvinist beliefs that when bad men associated with other bad men, they got worse, so the key to their rehabilitation was making sure that they were kept apart. The result was a huge spike in the number of insane convicts, such that they had to build an actual asylum right next to the separate prison.  You can see the separate prison and the asylum has been converted into a little cafe.

This was my second prison tour on my little travels (the first, Alcatraz, I'll come back around to that), but this one I took more personally. I was astounded by the hubris of the people handling the welfare of these people. I was a little disgusted with how callously society treated them. These men and women were allegedly wrongdoers, but what was done to them seemed in every case so much worse than what they did. In the prisons were little stories of the prisoners. One was Leonard Hand, sentenced to 15 years after attempted sodomy. He was later punished inside for using pages from a bible to communicate with another prisoner named James White in a way that was characterized as being "of an abominable and disgusting character". After he was sent to the separate prison, his mind deteriorated until he became "childish and silly". He died aged 24, socially undesirable.

There were many other prisoners whose seemed clear victims of circumstance. And then there were others whose personality traits I recognized as being sociopathic, even in the brief descriptions. For instance, Henry Laing, a skilled surveyer who caught the eye of the Governer's wife, Lady Jane Franklin. Lady Franklin described Laing as "a very handsome man . . . who has the disease of picking and stealing and seems to labour under (an) absolute ability to do otherwise". But as I was reading this and other descriptions of my sociopathic brothers and sisters I wondered, aren't they also victims of circumstances?

When you ask the question of who was this prison meant to serve, the answer if clear in its histories -- it was meant to isolate people whom society would rather ignore away from the normal people that did not want to have to deal with them in person or even think of them anymore. 

Grains of sand

From a reader:

4 minutes ago I finished your book. Loved every page of it. Devoured it in 3 days I loved it so much. I've always been so intrigued by psychopathy and other behavioural disorders. I've thought for a long time that it's unjust to punish people for who they are and their genuine wants and desires. My opinion even extents to pedophiles and all the rest.. But it does leave me confused as I do feel hurting people is wrong (I am an empath). Irrelevant. Anyways.

On the last page you invited the reader to email you to discover your real name. I would love to know it. I had a suspicion too that you were perhaps a male? Throughout the book I kept thinking about your motives for writing.. In the conclusion you mentioned changing the world, suggesting that a motive was to end the stigma around sociopathy, in hopes for an easier future for you, 'in the light'? But was it also somewhat out of boredom, the need for a stimulus? Or not only a protection of yourself, but the possible protection of future sociopaths ("inclusive fitness theory"). Which gave birth to my final question below.

Final query: Can you empathise with other Sociopaths? You don't mention having a relationship with other sociopaths.. I don't know how that dynamic would go, do you?

My response:

I don't think I have empathy for other sociopaths, but for whatever reason I have always had a sense that there is not as much separation between us as some people think. What is bad for one group of people really is bad for all people. I have always intuited that, but used to come up with utilitarian reasons to justify that belief. Just in the past few weeks I feel like I have realized the underlying belief is that for each one of us, part of our identity is our individuality and part of our identity is we collectively make up the universe -- like how cells in the body are both individual and collective, or like how a beach is really just a collection of grains of sand. 

Personal resilience

I really enjoyed this comment from the previous post, particularly this analogy to a sore tooth:

Sociopaths love power. When you (even in the context of healthy boundaries) say "ouch" it's kind of like announcing a sore tooth to a tongue. For reasons unknown to all of us, when a tooth is sore, we feel compelled to continue prodding that tooth until the soreness is somehow resolved. A sociopath is like the tongue here- compelled to nudge and explore for pain almost reflexively. 
***
When you have figured out the genesis of the sore tooth within yourself then you can seek a more appropriate outlet for resolving what is making you feel sore, rather than alerting your tongue to a situation it is not equipped to heal, only to antagonize. 

Paradoxically, your withdrawal makes you ten time more desirable to the sociopath and they will do whatever they can to re- engage with you (if you were actually as desirable to them as you led yourself to believe). 

If they don't chase after you, maybe you were simply ensnared by their flattery (no shame in that, just see it for what it is). More flattery won't make you feel better. Just addicted and then the sociopath will begin to feel your hunger for a certain sort of feedback and will be transformed into the tongue that can not leave the poor sore tooth alone. 

So you have a sore tooth. Know it, own it, and heal. It's not the sociopath's job to be part of the process. On the other side, the sociopath may be there or they may not. But you have solved your problem without making the sociopath responsible for your pain. This exercise will increase your personal power in all future actions immeasurably.

But I think this analogy has broader applications beyond relationships to sociopaths and to relationships or interactions with anyone -- this almost compulsive need to want to keep poking, keep probing, and in the analogy the involvement of another person, trying to come to some sort of solution or understanding with another person. The whole process doesn't seem overtly harmful or negative, and it's so easy to justify to ourselves as just exploring the pain we feel, perhaps identifying the pain. But even when that happens, why is it that we seldom feel any sense of relief at that knowledge but perhaps an even more heightened obsession and focus on the problem that only serves to magnify the pain and discomfort. Or maybe this is just what I tend to do... :)

I feel like this is related -- I have noticed a western societal trend (that has probably always been there but is perhaps being accentuated in my mind due to my own personal change) from an internal locus of control attitude to an external one. Pieces of "evidence" I see for it include the reactions to the student protests of this fall, such as this NY Times piece arguing that calls for students to become more resilient are really attempts to sweep injustice under the rug and shame the victims. But becoming resilient is not (necessarily) merely a necessary evil that society would rather force on select individuals rather than addressing underlying problems. It is a universal principle that helps everyone to a more satisfying life, from the highest to the lowest of the global socioeconomic classes, from the most privileged to the least, in every aspect of life.

Resilience, they way I think it is being used in these contexts, is the ability to self-regulate one's internal sense of well-being despite obstacles or aggravations present in one's environment. And everybody wants more of it. The number one trait people seem to envy about sociopaths is the ability to remain so unaffected by what others think of them or the fearful or stressful things of life. Isn't this a type of resilience?

The alternative to internal self-regulation is to try to enforce your standards and conditions for happiness on everyone else and the entire outside world. I too would like it if my boss never made me his personal scapegoat. I too would like it if loved ones never did anything insensitive or unkind or if there was no such thing as sexism or senseless violence or a bad day in the stock market or any cavities in my teeth. I know some of you put cavities in a different category of things that I supposedly can control (I have unusually thin enamel, hardly ever eat sugar, and floss religiously, so I don't know how that works out in formula of personal accountability) and someone perpetrating a crime of violence against you is in a polar opposite category of things you can't control. And some people probably think I am ignorant or shameful to deign to include them all in the same category. And I have no desire to suggest that these harms are equal or related or that is not more worthy of moral reprehension than another -- I'm not making any attempts to whitewash or sweep things under the rug, but...

And this is possibly the best life tip that I can give you from my sociopathic heart, if you look at either the teeth or the victim of violent crime situations from a purely utilitarian viewpoint that is focused less on some abstract concept of justice and more on pure self-interest of what is ultimately best for you, I think that you will find that treating them both (and any) situations with an internal locus of control focus will result in more personal peace, joy, and happiness to you than to ever need to seek someone's complicity, cooperation, reciprocity, shame, guilt, or acknowledgment of your hurt (particularly someone who is otherwise unwilling to do so) in order for you to feel better.

I understand the logic of the external locus of control mentality. If someone hurts you, and if they could only stop hurting you, you could stop being hurt. But if you can develop coping strategies for your teeth problems or your diabetes or your cancer or your other perpetratorless act of nature type harms, you should be able to do likewise for your issues that come from the misdeeds or shortcomings of people. And in resolving them independently without the need for others or the world to adjust or fix itself before you can be ok again just streamlines the efficiency of the process and is likely more efficacious because you don't have to worry about enforcing your rules on others. (Not to say that people shouldn't have boundaries, obviously they should. But if people respecting and adhering to your boundaries 100% is the only that you can feel ok in the world, then that is a precarious position to be in.)

This is already way too long, but I feel like I have not done a good enough job representing how useful the trait of resilience is, so a quick story that I also feel is related somehow. This morning as I was sitting on a bench in a public place, a man dressed as a monk came up to me and shook me down for a donation to some far away temple that was allegedly being restored. I gave him money, as I always do when asked (I don't really have an attachment or any feeling toward money itself, only to what the acquisition or lack of money can sometimes represent, so I always do give money out of politeness). The other people he accosted after me refused him. Maybe they didn't have money, or maybe they weren't interested in his temple or opposed his religious beliefs or something, but I wondered if some of them didn't give because they were worried about being scammed. I thought to myself, I do not experience any psychic or emotional harm in being scammed, at least not like this. And I felt very fortunate for that.

Sociopaths = utilitarians

Sometimes I get people pushing back on the idea that sociopathic are largely utilitarian (think trolley problem, etc). I was looking through some old emails, however, and found this Psychology Today article about there being an actual empirically recognized link between the two. My guess is that utilitarians are not necessarily sociopaths. My guess is, however, that it is true that sociopaths naturally default to a more utilitarian way of thinking because there almost is no other universal, sustainable basis of decision making for a sociopath to choose that would work in almost any situation without the sociopath being run out of town for outrageous selfishness. From the article:

As The Economist recently wrote, a forthcoming paper in Cognition (link is external) reports that experiment participants "who indicated greater endorsement of utilitarian solutions had higher scores on measures of Psychopathy, machiavellianism, and life meaninglessness" (from the paper abstract). 

From the Economist article in the link above:

One of the classic techniques used to measure a person's willingness to behave in a utilitarian way is known as trolleyology. The subject of the study is challenged with thought experiments involving a runaway railway trolley or train carriage. All involve choices, each of which leads to people's deaths. For example: there are five railway workmen in the path of a runaway carriage. The men will surely be killed unless the subject of the experiment, a bystander in the story, does something. The subject is told he is on a bridge over the tracks. Next to him is a big, heavy stranger. The subject is informed that his own body would be too light to stop the train, but that if he pushes the stranger onto the tracks, the stranger's large body will stop the train and save the five lives. That, unfortunately, would kill the stranger.

Dr Bartels and Dr Pizarro knew from previous research that around 90% of people refuse the utilitarian act of killing one individual to save five. What no one had previously inquired about, though, was the nature of the remaining 10%.
***
They found a strong link between utilitarian answers to moral dilemmas (push the fat guy off the bridge) and personalities that were psychopathic, Machiavellian or tended to view life as meaningless. 

Bisexuality and sociopathy

From a reader:

I've always been interested in what you've got to say. Long time reader and occasional commenter of your blog.

I recently mentioned your book in an interview I was involved in, regarding the correlation between bisexuality and sociopathy. I thought you might find it interesting.

https://violininavoid.wordpress.com/2015/03/04/interview-david-horscroft-on-bisexuality-psychopaths-and-violence/

Specifically:

"Why? Is this the bisexual version of the gay-lisp: an unfair stereotype that we’re all shifty, amoral psychopaths? I don’t think so. I actually think it’s the other way around: psychopaths strike me as far more likely to be bisexual. It makes sense for sociopathic characters to be bisexual: someone so inured to social convention and so aware of the power of seduction would be extremely likely to be bisexual, even if only for utilitarian means. As M.E. Thomas, the author of Confessions of a Sociopath puts it, it’s not so much bisexuality as it is gender indifference. The sociopath doesn’t see gender; rather, they see someone to manipulate and prey on."

If you've got the time, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on the matter, including my opinions on the literary and historic links between bisexuals and general troublemakers.

Survival of the fittest

Sociopaths have a reputation for thinking that they're better than everyone else. Not true (or at least I don't think it is, I don't know a sufficient sample size of sociopaths). Even if it's "true-ish", I believe that it's much more nuanced than that. Sociopaths do suffer from delusions of grandeur, yes, but they're not necessarily a comparative delusion of "I'm better than you" so much as "aren't I great?" or even the slightly more comparative but still within a narrow niche of applicability "nobody could have pulled that off like I just did." Second, it's not a thought so much as it is a feeling of self-love and admiration. When it comes to a sociopath's actual thoughts, sociopaths, at least the grown-up mature ones, understand well that everybody is about the same in terms of meaninglessness in the grand scheme of things. It's perhaps what makes utilitarian thinking so natural and easy.

Third, and the focus of this post, I think that a lot of people might naturally believe that a sociopath needs feelings of superiority in order to justify his behavior or self-love. Also not true. In order for empaths to be cold and cruel, they often need to lean on their pseudo-science understanding concepts of "survival of the fittest" or as one commenter recently wondered "trample or be trampled". But sociopaths don't have to logically talk themselves into this sort of behavior the same way that no one has to logically talk anyone into falling in love with their newborn. That's just the way sociopaths are wired. And there is no real logic to this sort of bastardization of "survival of the fittest" way of thinking. Nature is not some hardwired meritocracy that values objectively "superior" traits over "inferior" ones. Your worth is almost entirely contextual and based on scarcity and demand at that particular moment. If you're the only electrician in the world, you'll be a king. If everyone is an electrician, you are nothing. If you're one of the few in the world who can flawlessly sing high C's, you're an opera star. If everyone could, you're nothing. Society is in constant state of flux in terms of what is values and what it needs. The most we could say is that for a particular problem or feat, you also could be the "only one who could pull this off". Forgive the oversimplification, but all Darwinism says is that the more diverse a species is, the more robustly it encounters external opposition or change. It's as if we all drew from the genetic lottery and we have no idea what the truly "winning" ticket will be until nature and chance draws it (and keeps drawing it from day to day). Sociopaths win at different things than normal people only because their lottery ticket has different numbers and due to their relative scarcity. Nobody has a clue who will survive until it happens, so it's pretty foolish to make an assertions about people being "worthy" to survive or not.

I also liked this recent comment responding to the trample or be trampled question:

I knew a guy at university who was so insecure and trying to look clever and tough, he went on and on at a party, where people were tripping, about 'the law of the jungle' and 'survival of the fittest'. People were coming out of the room dazed and worried because they were almost convinced that it was therefore OK to kill him because he was irritating them. I had to talk them down because even though I used to be a nice person, I agreed this guy needed to be removed from the gene pool, but lets leave that to the decision of the insecure fat girls he was always creeping on to. 

Out for blood

Our friendly narcissist correspondent reader shared this article about Lance Armstrong. I thought the reporters action oddly paralleled that of what I've seen from a lot of people who have been burned by sociopaths. Worth reading in its entirety, here is main thrust of the reporter's reactions:

What I wanted was to find him slumped in his uneasy chair, naked nails on the wall, haircut in his hands, not even a poodle by his side.

I wanted someone who was sorry -- sorry for what he'd done, sorry for what was next, sorry to be stuck in his new, sorry life.

But that's not what I found.

Lance Armstrong is happy. In fact, he looks better at 42 than I've ever seen him, less gaunt in the face, thicker in the chest, bluer in the eyes. I found a man sitting in his den, surrounded by his seven Tour de France chalices, his 3-year-old, Olivia, on his lap, kissing him and laughing.

Really pissed me off.

I came to see ruins, not joy. I came to see a man ruined for lying to me for 14 years -- and letting me pass those lies on to you. Ruined for lying to everybody. And not just lying to the world, but lying angrily, lying recklessly and leaving good people wrecked in his lies.

It wasn't enough he'd been stripped of his seven wins, not enough that, so far, he'd lost half his estimated $120 million fortune to lawsuits, had to sell homes, his jet, lost every single endorsement (another $150 million), his earning capacity, and his association with the very foundation he started and built, Livestrong-- with two more lawsuits to go.

Yet here he was telling me he was "at peace" with it. I didn't want him at peace. I wanted him in pieces.
***
"People are going to call bulls--- on this, but I've never been happier. Never been happier with myself or my family. My kids suffer no bullying at school. Nobody says anything to them. They're doing great. Anna and I are extremely happy and content. It's true."

As I left, I thought about my motives for coming at all.

If a man has suffered the loss of more than half his wealth and 100 percent of his reputation, how much more blood should I want? I felt a little shame in coming at all.

As I come to the end of my sportswriting career, I wonder whether I need to make peace, too. Peace with the athletes who thrilled me, then disgusted me. Pete Rose, Ben Johnson, Mark McGwire, Marion Jones, Tiger Woods, Lance Armstrong. Peace with letting myself be thrilled, and then fooled, time and again. Why carry it as I go? And if Armstrong is over it, why aren't I? "You've got to live life no matter what's going on," Anna says. "Cancer teaches you that. Life isn't going to wait."

So I forgive Lance Armstrong for all the lies, though he's not asking for my forgiveness. And maybe I forgive myself for letting myself be lied to in the first place. And I thank him for the hope he still gives the millions who still believe in him, though I'm not one of them.

I like that the reporter was aware that a lot of his negative feelings were his own pride being hurt because he was duped, but you wonder what did he expect?.The reporter thinks he is somehow special that he would be treated differently than everyone else in the world? (For a better reaction to Lance Armstrong, see Matthew McConaughey.) And maybe part of me has a hard time taking sports seriously, but it also reminds me of this quote from Eleanor Roosevelt "you have been honest with yourself and those around you"? Really? Because I think word on the street is that Eleanor Roosevelt was a closeted gay woman in a sham marriage as someone's beard, which may or may not constitute fraud on the entire American people. But we aren't pissed at her, I guess because she didn't hurt hundreds of other cyclists who would have placed slightly higher than they otherwise did (although, again in weighing pros and cons fashion, Armstrong arguably did more to benefit cycling as a whole by raising awareness and popularizing it than he ever hurt it as a whole or hurt individual cyclists, even in the aggregate.)

Our narcissist reader's thoughts:

When narcissists like Lance stop caring about being admired, they change in a fundamental way.

Before his striving was focused on winning and getting away with it - securing as much admiration as he could. Now he's probably focused on helping his kids, staying on good terms with his wife and managing his investments. That is, more utilitarian concerns. If you offered Lance enough money, he might star in a porn film to benefit cancer victims, because he'd think, "well, my reputation is worth nothing now, but we can turn my celebrity into money for cancer victims, so let's go!"

He is probably still noticeably psychopathic. If Lance thinks, "that was a good day", and you ask him why, it is probably because he ate some nice food, had a big orgasm and made a lot of money in the market. That is, thrilling. He might not remember days as the one where he had a deep emotional conversation with his partner, someone opened a door for him and he felt gratitude or he took a walk and felt wonderment and awe that he is alive, has legs that work, eyes and a mind that sees, etc.

A utilitarian view of justice? (part 3)

From the reader again:

I wonder if empathy is a refuge for people who don't believe in god but find utilitarianism too cold as a basis for morality. Or maybe people who have an excess of empathy find it abhorrent to be utilitarian, because it's somehow dehumanizing (ie, being utilitarian means you make an impersonal calculation about the greatest good for the greatest number, as opposed to treating everyone like as individuals)?

I'll share a story with you, which you're also welcome to publish on your blog: I was flying home from Africa a few years ago, and was seated beside a Moroccan woman and her son, on their way to visit family in Montreal. At one point, she asked me about my religion. I told her that I didn't believe in god, which immediately distressed her. I recall her almost frantically reassuring me that I was probably a good person anyway, and that I looked like I loved my family, and so on. I think she was, in her own way, trying to be nice to me and not make me feel bad about my atheism!

Her apprehension of me makes sense, I think.  Her morality derives from God. She doesn't kill, steal, or eat pork because Allah forbids it. Then she meets me, and not only don't I believe in Allah, I don't believe in any god at all. If I don't believe in god, then what stops me from killing and stealing? In her eyes, nothing! And yet I don't look like a monster. How is that possible? What prevents people from being monsters if not god? I think some empaths feel the same way about sociopaths and empathy.

I'm guessing that some empaths think about someone like you, who doesn't experience any emotional empathy, and freak out like the woman beside me on the plane did. Their morality is based on empathy/god. You have no empathy/don't believe in god. Therefore you have no morality. You now become completely unpredictable to them, hence the fear.  You eat pork and don't pray, so maybe you also murder?  You don't cry when others are in pain, so maybe you can kill someone and not feel badly about it?

This last part of the story reminds me a lot of this.

A utilitarian view of justice? (part 2)

From the reader, additional ideas about this post on utilitarian morality:

I sent this in because of a discussion I was having at that time with my husband.  He is an uber-empath who is extremely open minded, except when it comes to psychopathy.  He’s afraid of you and worries when I read your blog, which cracks me up (I think he worries that psychopathy is contagious …. would that it were, lol)!  We were talking about whether you could have a morality not based on empathy, and to my surprise, he disagreed that such a thing was possible.  “Disagree” is putting it mildly - he was deeply repulsed by such an idea, which surprised me because he’s normally very open.

To him, morality and empathy go hand in hand, in the same way that for religious people morality and god go hand in hand (both he and I are atheists).  Oddly, he sees how ridiculous (wrong) is it for religious people to impose their god-oriented morality on non-believing people, but he doesn’t think twice about imposing a morality based on empathy on the world. I am less convinced that empathy is necessarily a part of morality, and am more of a utilitarian, which is why I am interested in the utilitarianism of pre-modern cultures and decided to send this into you. 

Fyi, I very much share your instinctive fear of crazed mobs, most especially when they are fueled deeply felt sense of righteousness. I have seen groups of people in the clutches of religious fervour and other deeply felt emotions, and it is frightening beyond belief.

My response:

I think your analogy is spot on. Your husband's perspective is very interesting and hard for me to understand (but I lack empathy, so...). I can't even really reason out what the connection is between empathy and morality for most people. We don't do "bad" things because we feel the pain that our victims feel? What if there is no victim? Also, we sometimes do hurt people but for "good" reasons. For instance, we punish children, even though they are hurt when we do, for their own "good". Where does that assessment of "good" come from if not from a utilitarian point of view? This is especially true when you consider all the limitations of empathy. Might as well construct a view of morality that values the needs of your own loved ones and tribesmen over everyone else... 

A utilitarian view of justice?

From a reader:

I am an empath who has been reading your blog with interest. I thought I'd share with you something I read recently about the Moï (a pre-modern society), from an older British book (from the 50s) about Vietnam and Southeast Asia (the book is called "A Dragon Apparent" by Norman Lewis). What's interesting about the Moï's view of justice is that it's very utilitarian and doesn't involve any special kind of outrage at anti-social activities. It's an example of a system of justice that isn't based on morality, but on expediency. Feel free to use this in your blog, if you find it interesting as I do (keeping in mind that Lewis is a journalist and travel writer, not an anthropologist).  Here's an excerpt:

"The other aspect of the Moï way of life that seems to have created the greatest impression upon those who have studied them is that, although, by Occidental standards, crimes are few, the conceptions of right and wrong seem to be quite incomprehensible to them. In their place, and incidentally governing conduct by the most rigid standards, are the notions of what is expedient and what is not expedient. The Moï is concerned rather with policy than justice. Piety and fervour have no place in his ritual observations. Contrition is meaningless. There is no moral condemnation in Moï folklore of those who commit anti-social acts.

...

"Among the Moïs retribution is swift and terrestrial. The wicked – that is, the ritually negligent man – is quickly ruined. If he continues to pile up spiritual debts he is certain of a sudden death – the invariable sign that the ghostly creditors, becoming impatient, have claimed his soul for nonpayment.

"The thing works out in practice much better than one might expect. Crimes against the individual such as theft or violence are viewed as contravening the rites due to the plaintiff’s ancestral manes. The aggressor, however, is seen as no more than the instrument of one of the spirits who has chosen this way to punish the victim for some ritual inadequacy. The judge, therefore, reciting in verse the appropriate passage of common law, abstains from stern moralization.

...

"There is no distinction among the Moïs between civil and criminal law and no difference is made between intentional and unintentional injury. If a man strikes another in a fit of temper or shoots him accidentally while out hunting, it is all the work of the spirits and the payment to be made has already been laid down."

 Excerpted from A Dragon Apparent by Norman Lewis (first published in 1951) 

I remember there was some discussion a while back about the benefits of restorative justice over retributive justice. Despite the proven benefits of an amoral justice system over one that demands blood for blood, people insist on clinging to an idea of people as being evil and deserving of punishment for the crime yes, but particularly for the temerity to challenge the conventional moral and social order. 

Fleeting emotions

My sister and sister-in-law have several children that are the same ages as each other. Children all have different personalities, but I have also seen some trends in how these particular children act based on their mothers' parenting styles. My sister is a little emotionally detached herself and is not an overly emotional parent. Her parenting style fosters independence. Her children go places by themselves before they are in the double digits of age. The children have a lot of autonomy, responsibilities, and experience real consequences for their actions. My sister-in-law is more the typical, doting mother. She is anxious and her children live in a safe bubble of love and protection. When her children speak, we stop and listen. They get choices about certain things like what to eat for dinner, but most of the time they are being told what to do from hour to hour. It's easy to see that there is not a one-style-fits-all approach to parenting. Both approaches have their plusses and minuses.

I am grateful for the way I was raised. Some people have called it borderline (or just plain) abusive, but to me it was mainly characterized by freedom and creativity. Even the unpredictable outbursts from my parents had a use, they helped bond me and my siblings together in a way that is still remarkably tight into adulthood. We got along not just because we had to, but because we wanted to -- everyone recognized that it was better that way. We would play music together, play games together, play sports together, and do projects together -- all of which we recognized would have been impossible to do alone. Together we were better, stronger, and happier than we were as individuals. Consequently, my family does certain things very well. We're very good at subjugating our will to the utilitarian needs of the whole. We joke that we're a little like the Borg from Star Trek -- assimilation for the needs of the hive. That might sound like a nightmare for some, but it's really efficient and no one ever feels like they're held hostage to the potential drama and demands of divas and tyrants. Each member of the family has their role and expertise, and the rest of us defer to them on those points when we're together. Because this state is completely voluntary, we're also careful to make sure that no one gets overly disgruntled and opts out completely. If someone is feeling put upon, we address the issue openly and efficiently. People who cheat get informal social sanctions, typically in the form of my sister's wrath. But to make things work this way, no one is really allowed to take things personally or have "unreasonable" emotional reactions and expect to have those feelings validated. Someone can be upset and cry and no one will give him a hard time about it, but unless he can verbalize his problem and propose a solution, no one is really invested in anyone's fleeting emotions.

My sister's family is the only one that approximates this approach with her own children. The results are interesting. Her children are definitely more ruthless, calculating, and calloused than most of their peers (more than they should be?). But they're also really easy to reason with. They understand better than a lot of adults that just because they are feeling an emotion does not mean that it was caused by any particular thing or person -- that they can't control what happens to them, but they actually do have a lot of control over how they feel about things or how they interpret those feelings. They learn this from their parents. When my sister is in a bad mood, she tells her children that she's just "grumpy," so they shouldn't take her reactions personally. My niece picked up on this phrase when she was just a toddler. If you asked her why she was sad, she would frequently say "I'm not sad, I'm just grumpy." She meant that there was nothing in particular that she wanted solved, she was just not feeling happy and to leave her alone about it. My sister's family even plays at emotions, taking "grumpy" family photos the same way that some families take silly photos. They understand that their emotions are labile and often fleeting. The children are not as offended when people don't take their emotions "seriously" because they understand the difference between raw emotional reactions and actual problems that can be verbalized.

I'm sure this isn't the only way to teach children this particular skill and maybe this approach would be impossible for most parents to pull off or would harm most children more than it would help. But I thought that it was an interesting approach, and would be helpful to serve as common ground for parents of sociopaths (particularly if the sociopathic child had normal siblings). 

Animal morality?

ABC News reports on a recent book, "The Bonobo and the Atheist," by Frans de Waal, who argues that other primates have at least the building blocks of morality. De Waal suggests that this proves we had inborn morality first, then came up with the idea of religion and god to make sense of those moral inclinations, rather than vice versa.

Those and other human-like characteristics, that have been clearly documented by other researchers as well, at least show they have some grasp of morality. It doesn't mean they are moral -- especially chimps, which can be very violent -- but they have the "basic building blocks" for morality, de Waal argues.

Chimps, he says, "are ready to kill their rivals. They sometimes kill humans, or bite off their face." So he says he is "reluctant to call a chimpanzee a 'moral being.'"

"There is little evidence that other animals judge the appropriateness of actions that do not directly affect themselves," he writes. Yet, "In their behavior, we recognize the same values we pursue ourselves.

"I take these hints of community concern as a sign that the building blocks of morality are older than humanity, and we don't need God to explain how we got to where we are today," he writes.

Is this right? That hints of community concern are the basis for our sense of morality? He says that there are instances of primates feeling guilt or shame:

For example, Lody, a bonobo in the Milwaukee County Zoo, bit the hand -- apparently accidentally -- of a veterinarian who was feeding him vitamin pills.

"Hearing a crunching sound, Lody looked up, seemingly surprised, and released the hand minus a digit," de Waals writes.

Days later the vet revisited the zoo and held up her bandaged left hand. Lody looked at the hand and retreated to a distant corner of the enclosure where he held his head down and wrapped his arms around himself, signs of both grief and guilt.

And here's the amazing part. About 15 years later the vet returned to the zoo and was standing among a crowd of visitors when Lody recognized her and rushed over. He tried to see her left hand, which was hidden behind the railing. The vet lifted up her incomplete hand and Lody looked at it, then at the vet's face, then back at the hand again.

Was he showing shame and grief? Or was it fear of a possible reprisal? The ape at least realized he had done something wrong, de Waal argues, showing the seeds of moral behavior.

The chimp "realized he had done something wrong," but was it a moral judgment of "wrongness"? Or do chimps keep score in their society such that if a chimp does something that another chimp doesn't like, there will be retribution. In other words, does it mean that chimps are moral, or that they hold grudges? I actually think this is a more interesting explanation -- that the urge to punish others for perceived infraction (a sense of justice) is very primitive, such that we share this trait with primates. Interesting how humans have not really modified that impulse much, despite evidence that restorative justice is actually more effective both in terms of victim satisfaction and offender accountability than retributive justice.

The articles mentions other primate behaviors, including displays of deep grief and compassion for each other, but as the article states "[w]hen an ape expresses grief or guilt or compassion he is living out the blueprint for survival in a culture that is becoming more complex, and possibly more dangerous." That is, they are not making judgments of moral right or wrong, they are just acknowledging they exist as one individual in a larger society (like the sociopaths willingness to be a team player). From the examples given, primates do seem to have a system of "values," e.g. they do cleverly use orgies to stop wars, but that seems to be a utilitarian assessment (orgies = good and war = bad), not a moral one.

Gentleman sociopath?

If not morals, why might a sociopath choose to do something "good" or help people? A reader recently wrote about how his sense of aesthetics keeps him from doing anything base, such as brute strength violence.

Similarly, from another sociopathic reader regarding the existence of the "gentleman sociopath":

I have read as many materials about sociopathy. It seems that the clinical model tend towards the violent and lack of self-awareness of the afflicted. I'm confused by that. I have over forty years and have done phenomenally well but there is a certain dichotomy to my nature that challenges what I read. Self-awareness is something I have in spades. It comes in waves but the overall tenets of my meticulous adaptation and mimicry have served me well. I am reasonably successful perhaps even quite successful. I am a charismatic individual that can engender such passionate responses but I don't quite get their ultimate utilitarian value. I am fully capable of expressing emotion though it typically is self-serving. I find people useful and fascinating and in my job I am an outgoing and rather likable chap. I know what to say to make the ends meet. But the act itself is mechanical. You are the first I have read that seems to be broadening the understanding of the bonds that bind us together and yet I wonder, what of the gentleman sociopath. The one who realizes that the flashes of violence and utter revulsion at humanity leaves the efforts to connect empty and like a well played out theatrical piece. One of which I am always the star; even if I sit back and do nothing of great significance I manage to impact other positively. But I fail to see the reward. Is this all there is? A chance encounter, fleeting, where love is extricated for my benefit and validation of my greatness. Psychotherapy and psychology seem only to capture the seen and make formulaic profiles of those who manage to fall into the system. I have absolutely no desire to be anything else. There is an elegance in the primal connection to my stripped bone need to see the tethers that bind us to this false sense of social propriety.

But these tethers that bind us all demand to be plucked so that I can rest assured my genius is not wasted. I am not adverse to violence and my sexual appetites are gruesome at best. But I have control of them despite a few slip ups. I appreciate greatly the time you took to read my letter.  What Answer I receive from you will be welcome.

I have lived long enough to grow tired of the clinical definitions and confines of sociopathy. There are many of us who have formed quite mutually beneficial bonds with one another and find success in a tedious world a far better path than the wanton rebellion. I suppose, while I will be frank in admitting I haven't the foggiest idea of what drew me to your writings, you must have seemed to at least be less rigid in your understanding of this particular detachment. Except with those like me, I have never before felt an interest to express this. You also are likely aware that I would be remiss if I didn't say that any questions you have for me would be welcomed.

Book responses (part 4)

From a reader:

I have been following your blog for a while and I've found it fascinating, so naturally when I heard about your book I jumped at a change for a larger glimpse into your life. I preordered it as soon as I heard about it, and when it arrived on my kindle yesterday I spent the whole day lost in the rabbit hole I found myself in. Much of your book resonated very strongly with me, especially your description of ruining people and how often the potential for ruin is enough. I have always implicitly felt this but could never put a name to it. I always considered it a propensity to quit before the end, but when you consider the appreciation of potential as an end in itself, the subsequent ruination is just "busy work" and not worth my time. This is actually a great relief to me, because while I can tolerate moral ambiguity in myself, I absolutely cannot tolerate a weak mind that cannot follow through its projects to their end.

Although it is most likely too early to tell, I consider myself a sociopath, or at least highly sociopathic. As a child, I never really fit into social situations, neither with adults nor children. I always felt the
greatest contempt for what I viewed as adults trying to manipulate me with a sourceless moral code that I did not believe in. It shocked me when they expressed surprise that I would need a justification for morality. With children, I was exceedingly awkward, a trait that I mainly attribute to an upbringing by East Asian parents, but may also have been because I simply didn't care about the frivolities that others did and never made an attempt to pretend otherwise. However, that upbringing also protected me, as the cultural mandate on conformity effectively masked my deviant thoughts and behavior. However, occasionally my utilitarian value set still shone through, like when I kicked one of my best friends in the ribs to make him stop yelling at recess. Afterward, deciding on a whim that honesty was a value I should always observe, I freely admitted to having done so, absolutely enraging my teacher for my apparent stoicism and lack of regret. I suppose I should have shown more contrition, but the truth is I simply didn't care that my friend was injured. I got what I wanted, and there was no permanent damage done. Was I supposed to care further on such trivial, temporary effects?

Although you discussed a lack of emotional affect in mainly humorous terms (people taking your deadpanned threats as jokes), I have found a very practical use for it, pathological lying, A combination of Asian distaste for outward displays of emotion and my sociopathic inability to express emotion has given me the highly useful ability to lie in practically any situation, even to my closest friends, a skill that I hone and treasure. It's pathetically easy to lie to strangers who don't know anything about you and are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but lying to someone who intimately knows your mannerisms is absolutely beautiful. I have actually ruined someone's inherent trust in people; after talking to me for a few months she can no longer take peoples' statements at face value and always wonders if they are lying, even if said person has never had a history of lying. I'm not sure how an empath would react to something like that, but I personally find it hilarious.

Speaking of empaths, I have never had an "Ann" in my life. No empath has ever healed me or shown me how redeemable empaths are. Instead, I only have people who stubbornly refuse to acknowledge my inherent differences and strive to evoke in me the emotions that they believe me to have. My inability to feel emotions alien to me is only interpreted as further reason that I need this “therapy,” until I am completely overwhelmed and I disengage entirely. I have never met an empath I can deal with, and the people I identify with closest all share sociopathic traits with me. Often, interaction with me has brought those traits to the surface. I'm sure a normal person would watch in horror as I “corrupt” people, but I only feel pride in having so much influence, not just in peoples' actions, but their very philosophies on life.

Unlike you, I have no religious code whatsoever, and my ethics can easily be described as questionable. My morals are based entirely on my aesthetic sense, but, given the nature of my aesthetics, it keeps me out of trouble anyway. What I find most beautiful is predatory grace, which requires, to put it simply, perception and ability. My aesthetics drive me to eschew denial and constantly strive to improve in all areas, which ironically gives me a relatively normal sociopathic life. It also gives me a relatively normal life by empath standards, as evidence of actions is usually ugly, giving me incentive to always cover my tracts. Violence, likewise, if used because I have lost control of the situation and can only resort to brute strength, is disgustingly ugly. Is this a strange code to live by? Clearly it is strange for empaths, but I have gotten the impression that my lifestyle is strange for sociopaths as well. Am I truly deviant or am I just calling the same motivations by a different name? I personally think my aesthetic sense is just a different name for the inborn instincts that everybody has (the will to live, which requires one to improve as to not get eviscerated), but given the reactions I have gotten from sharing my views, I may really be different.

Reading the reviews of your book on Amazon, I was surprised at the number of reviews that criticized the excessive length of the book. I was entirely engrossed from start to finish, but that may be because I responded personally to the material in a way that an empath simply wouldn't. In any case, you specifically described the book as a memoir, not an academic work, something that these reviews seem to have overlooked. I did notice that you left out any accounts of interactions with other sociopaths, even though you vaguely referenced them. Given how thoroughly you accounted your interactions, the story seems one sided. I would love to hear those, but even without those anecdotes, your book elucidated many concepts that I felt but couldn't put to words, and that deserves gratitude, as well as respect.

Society of sociopaths

People are always asking what a society of sociopaths would look like. As i have suggested before, there already is a society of sociopaths. It is the Dutch. And I'm not the only one who has suggested that the Dutch are as cold and calculating as they come. A libertarian blogger posting about the proposed universal health care in the United States writes:

If the public sector atrophies, the scope for manipulation broadens, because the information about what's available outside the public sector shrinks. Nor is this just crazy speculation. I actually think it's pretty reasonable when conservatives worry that the Dutch attitudes towards euthanasia are influenced by the burden old people and severely disabled children put on the public purse. I don't see how they could fail to be.

What then does a society of sociopaths look like? The Dutch are very efficient, utilitarian, and all of them ride bikes. They invented several of the world's evils including things like slave trade, diamond trade, and imperialism. They're also very tolerant, traditionally a haven for religious minorities like the soon-to-be American pilgrims. Once you're too old to be functional to society, you kill yourself, always with one eye on the bottom line, e.g. gay okay but old decrepit, not so much. And they're firm believers in the free market. Not so bad, is it? I mean there are tradeoffs in everything, right?

Moral judgment without emotions

A recent experiment about the impact of emotions in decisionmaking with some lofty aspirations:

The study's answer will inform a classic philosophical debate on whether humans make moral judgments based on norms and societal rules, or based on their emotions.

The test basically required people to perform different versions of the trolley problem, asking them to hurt/kill one person in order to save multiple people. Most people have trouble pulling the trigger. The people with damage to a part of the frontal lobe that makes them less emotional "make a less personal calculation." "The logical choice, they say, is to sacrifice one life to save many." Most people are torn between the two choices, but the emotionless people "seem to lack that conflict." Instead, they behave perfectly rationally:


"What is absolutely astonishing about our results is how selective the deficit is," he said. "Damage to the frontal lobe leaves intact a suite of moral problem solving abilities, but damages judgments in which an aversive action is put into direct conflict with a strong utilitarian outcome."

It is the feeling of aversion that normally blocks humans from harming each other. Damasio described it as "a combination of rejection of the act, but combined with the social emotion of compassion for that particular person."


Surprise! This time the sociopaths is not the bad guy.

The study holds another implication for philosophy.By showing that humans are neurologically unfit for strict utilitarian thinking, the study suggests that neuroscience may be able to test different philosophies for compatibility with human nature.

It turns out that utilitarian judgments are sometimes valuable and important and that it's the normal people who have the deficit in making them and the sociopaths who excel.

Brutally effective

From Narcissistworld:


I recently watched a fascinating video on psychopaths, which describes psychopathy in terms of attention.

In a nutshell, psychopaths don’t pay attention to the same things that normal people pay attention to. E.g. take a cat: when it sees prey, it focuses its attention on catching the prey. It ignores pretty much everything else. Psychopaths are similar; when they are focused on getting something they ignore other information (the feelings of others).

Narcissists are hypercompetitive. When they compete, their attention focuses on what it will take to win; they marshal all the mental resources they can to that task. Notably unimportant: how others feel.

One fascinating exercise (see the video) asks subjects to focus on images, and ignore the words written on the images. The psychopaths do great at that task; they are able to focus their attention narrowly and keep working towards their goal. In some high-stakes circumstances the psychopaths will outperform normal people, who will break down and lose.

A bit how men can’t understand why women want to talk about feeling so much, psychopaths have a hard time understanding why normal people are so disinclined to be brutally effective. To a psychopath, things are crystal clear. One “benefit” of being analytical, low-empathy and morally utilitarian is that one can arrive at simple and brutal solutions and see them through.

It's funny how consistent this mentality is amongst sociopaths.  Everyone comes in different shells, different races, different genders, and sometimes even when I know someone is a sociopath I will just start seeing them as that shell, like I do with everyone else.  But they're not like everyone else.  They're singular.

Sociopaths and animals (part 2)

My response:

You're right, I feel like there is a lot of emphasis on animal cruelty in the diagnostic criteria for psychopaths, typically juvenile cruelty. Does animal cruelty only appeas to a juvenile psychopath's mind? Or they shift their cruel behavior to humans as they age?

I myself have no affection for animals, certainly no greater affinity for them than I would have for any person. Still I don't go out of my way to hurt or kill them, but I have also never shied away from it when the situation called for it. For instance, I don't have the urge to kill a chicken just to see its blood spill, but no problem killing it to slaughter it for food. I am the type of person that would kill a neighbor's barking dog if I knew there would be no negative repercussions from it.

I saw this on some site: "I know one sociopath who really likes her Preying Mantis and doesn't like dogs. An enjoyment of dogs generally requires some degree of caring, empathy--characteristics devoid in sociopaths." Maybe. I just don't understand the appeal of animals, other than their pure utilitarian value. But I love children and inanimate objects, so I'm not judging or anything.

i've also been thinking, though, in regards to everyone that asks me if they are a sociopath or not. my thought is this, either you believe that sociopaths exist, or you don't, you think that they are self-aware narcissists or have ADD or asperger's or autism or are borderline or manic depressive or schizoid, or not loved as a children, guarded, unemotional, or the myriad of other "disorders" that if you stack them on top of each other in the right combinations could explain everything a sociopath is. but if you believe that 1-4% of the population has a condition called
"sociopathy," then ask yourself -- in a room full of 100 people, am i the most coldhearted, remorseless bastard in that room? if the answer is yes, than that is probably a good indication that you are a sociopath. if no, or if maybe, then you probably aren't, or your aren't enough to really be concerned about it. and as many have said before, labels do not have any intrinsic value, just the value from being able to explore the truth about yourself and others.

Conversation with a sociopath (?) (part 4)

D.R.: On loyalty...I remain loyal to a certain degree. At some point, betrayal can become too much for me to trust someone again. Trust does not come easily to me. Someone always has a motive; what it is and how pure are the questions I try to answer when putting "trust" into someone.

M.E.: Hmm, jaded.

D.R.: That being said, when I do decide to trust someone, I expect that they don't break it. It's a privilige, not a right. The more I trust someone, the more I'll invest into the relationship.

M.E.: A very utilitarian view of things.

D.R.: This may result into higher trust and higher investment, until I consider that person a part of my life.

M.E.: A part of your life, or a part of you?

D.R.: I would say more a part of me. Someone in whom I place or find a piece of my identity. For instance, my best friend and I have been friends for many years. At first, we were not very close. But as I saw more of myself in her, she became more important to me. This is how I've always viewed love, both sexual and platonic. The only difference is the fucking. I call it "giving myself to them." This bond goes as so: I decide I like you, I will take you for a test run. You drive nicely, a fast ride, rough at times, smooth at others, but I do the steering. I "buy" you with favors, flattery, and give you want you want in a relationship.

M.E.: You don't mind this because it appeals to your risk-seeking, unemotional nature? Socios (allegedly) have difficulties fully integrating their sex life in the rest of their life.

D.R.: I have a hard time seeing how sex is the end-all, be all in relationships other than the trump card. I find I hold out on it because I want to keep the person around. Other times I give in a bit so they don't think they are wasting their time. In return, you are there when I need you, you do not cheat on me, and you don't act like a doormat. Obviously my friends can have other friends, but when I have a sexual/"romantic" relationship with someone, I do not tolerate them doing the same with someone else.

M.E.: Obviously.

D.R.: All my life, I've always thought I'd be something special. As a kid, I was Lara Croft, saving the world from mystical objects and the evil people that would use them to destroy everything. Then I was a spy...I'd single-handedly take down a terrorist organization, or maybe a corrupt government. Always, it seemed my version of justice was "vigilante," because, of course, police officers are easily bought and sold. So are judges and juries. The whole damn system is corrupt...I wanted to save it. Salvage it. Maybe start a revolution. But I have no set career...just a desire to play the hero. My last boyfriend understood this; he wanted to be a spy too, lol.

M.E.: Again, I have posted about this. Delusions of grandeur are very common among sociopaths. We all think that we were destined for something great, and it's quite possible that we are.

D.R.: I think I would make a fantastic spy. But I think I would also have a problem with taking blind direction if I can't fit it into my own agenda, so maybe not... I'm very good in social settings, and people often think they are learning much about me, but it's all very vague. They just make conclusions I don't bother to correct. I don't lie much, not in a harmful way. Little white lies that don't hurt anyone and probably make everyone better off, yes...but I don't lie specifically to make someone feel bad. Usually I don't have to lie to make them feel bad. Conversely, I don't have to do much to make them want to help me, either. People readily do things for me, even small things. I can be sitting on my ass typing away on my computer and get one of my parents to walk my dog, even if they're in their pj's. My friend drives an hour to see me every week and then an hour back, but I don't ever drive down there unless I must. She's more than happy to do it (which is great, 'cause I hate filling up my gas tank).

M.E.: I sometimes wonder why people adore me so much, too. Particularly in my family, I am a huge crowd favorite. Maybe they appreciate an unusual viewpoint, or maybe they just want to make sure that I'll always be on their side.

D.R.: I am the star of my family. The first in my direct line to go to college, quickly promoted at work, always engaging. I seem like a real go-getter, especially compared to other low-performing relatives (whom I really believe are just acting that way because they see it gets them out of responsibilities).

D.R.: If you decide to post this on your blog (despite how lengthy it is), you are more than welcome to do so. If you must attach a name to it, you may use D.R. It is short for the name of a character in a story I wrote in high school (I loved writing; my stories had very dark or very ironic themes). She was a murderer and a thief, and the entire story was written in her point of view. I've never murdered and I've never stolen (well, not since I was too young to know what stealing is), but they all agreed she reminded them of me. So, you may call me that. :)

M.E.: Yeah, I may, I think people enjoy reading portraits of sociopathy.

D.R.: It’s the villain/antihero that everyone loves to hate.

Sociopath code

A frequent question I get is how can sociopaths be good? Why would sociopaths choose to "do the right thing" if they don't feel the emotion "guilt" like everyone else does?

We all use short cuts to make decisions. It would be impossible for us to make a fully informed, reasoned decision every time such a decision was necessary. Empaths use emotional shortcuts, sociopaths don't/can't, so we come up with some other shortcut. A lot of sociopaths use shortcuts like "anything goes," or "I am only in it for me," but I have also met/talked to many sociopaths who have a more "principled" approach to life. I have met sociopaths who are utilitarian, a la Jeremy Bentham, or even Rawlsian. Some of my readers use religious codes to guide their actions. I use the shortcut of economic efficiency, gap-filled by Judeo-Christian ethics, which for me acts like a mental/emotional exercise regime -- monotonous drudgery, but ultimately good for mental/emotional health. The one thing that sociopath "codes" tend to have in common is that they don't fully map with prevailing social norms.

To my eyes, normal people lack a certain consistency in their sense of right and wrong. I think the American political parties are a good example of this. Why is the christian right against helping poor people? How can big government square with a desire to maximize individual freedoms? I have often wondered why people choose to be "conservative" or "liberal" rather than libertarian or socialist. My mind can't reconcile the seeming inconsistencies like other people's minds do, apparently.

One sort of bad thing about the sociopath's "code" compared to the empaths' is that the empath really drinks the Kool-Aid and believes that their way of life is "right," and has intrinsic meaning and purpose. Sociopaths get no such benefit from our codes, which is why our coping methods for dealing with the world, with all its uncertainties and pointlessness, are not always adequate to keep the darkness out of our minds and hearts.