Just as I was making this realization, thanks to a number of resources on the topic, it seemed that much of the rest of the world was beginning to make the same realization. More and more stories related to the neuroscience of moral choice were coming out everywhere I looked. And dramas and books centering on psychopaths – perhaps the most fascinating examples of the stark difference between some humans and others in how they make moral choices – were attracting large audiences.

So I started this blog in order to help amplify this awakening to a new understanding about the factors underlying moral choice and, in turn, the types of events we refer to as “evil.”

Here on the blog, I’ve featured many stories that highlight the growing knowledge base at the intersection of neuroscience and morality. And today I read a quote that sums up well my feeling about this area of knowledge:

“It’s a field that’s waiting for a big revolution sometime soon.”

The quote is from Walter Sinnott-Armstrong, Professor in Practical Ethics at Duke University’s Department of Philosophy and Kenan Institute for Ethics. And it comes from an article by Health and Science reporter Elizabeth Landau called “How your brain makes moral judgments” posted on CNN.com today as part of its “Inside Your Brain” series.

Landau’s article features a nice selection of ideas and research studies in this area of the neuroscience of morality. It demonstrates, yet again, that we do seem to be on the cusp of the revolution in the field to which Sinnott-Armstrong refers – and which this blog exists to help, in some small measure, to bring about – and explores the implications of that revolution.

It covers a variety of studies, relating to which areas of the brain do what when people make moral decisions, by some of the top researchers in the field, such as Joshua Greene and Adrian Raine.

It specifically discusses what is different in the relevant brain circuits in psychopaths as compared with others, a topic covered extensively on this site, as well as in autism.

And in one of its more fascinating aspects, it discusses how interventions in brain processes can manipulate moral judgments. For instance, it talks about research by Rebecca Saxe, associate professor of cognitive neuroscience at MIT and associate member of the McGovern Institute for Brain Research, in which the application of transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) to a particular area of the brain led to a temporary shift in response when making moral judgments.

In the article, Sinnott-Armstrong is quoted regarding one of the most controversial aspects of ponerology, saying that he “thinks one day there could be treatments directly developed for the brain in extreme cases, such as criminal psychopaths.”

“‘It’s possible that if we understand the neural circuits that underlie psychopaths and their behavior, we can use medications and magnetic stimulation to change their behavior,’ he said.

Such techniques might not work as well as behavioral training programs, however, he said.”

The article also talks about how different brain areas may be involved in different kinds of moral judgments and whether there may be cross-cultural differences in moral judgment.

All in all, a very worthwhile article for those interested in these topics and yet another example of the increasing recognition of this crucial area of study.

In addition, Kim is a writer whose bio states that she is a “former professor of languages” who was a Fulbright Scholar.

So I was quite curious when Kim let me know that she had written a new book dealing with the topic of narcissism and related themes about which we both feel strongly and was kind enough to send me a copy.

Things started off well very early on – in fact, before I even opened the envelope containing the book. Why? Check out this return address label that greeted me.

You can think and write about these issues for a long time before you come across something like that. It just reminded me all over again of how clever and insightful Kim’s work around these issues can be.

Then I opened the package to reveal the book and its title, The Sin of Omission.

This just continued the great start because this title reflects an aspect of ponerology that I have long felt it is important to emphasize. Those with reduced empathy can surely actively cause a great deal of harm. But, boy are they often also talented at strategically employing negligence to deviously enable suffering to arise while maintaining plausible deniability.

There are non-actions which, though most would deem them unethical, are nonetheless not illegal. Those who wish to do harm can engage – or, perhaps better said, willfully fail to engage – in them and rarely be held to account. They are the moral loopholes that empathy-reduced people masterfully and frequently exploit. Their existence is a problem that has long haunted me.

That haunting goes back even to my childhood. Agatha Christie’s famous novel Ten Little Indians tells the story of how a number of people who took advantage of these types of loopholes, causing suffering for which they had never been held responsible, were finally brought to a form of justice. I was assigned to read the book in middle school and, even at that young age, my life experience had already primed me in such a way that it hit me like a ton of bricks because I recognized so keenly and felt so strongly about this theme of people getting away with terribly unethical “sins of omission.”

Apparently many others also recognize and feel strongly about this theme because Ten Little Indians, which was first published under the title And Then There Were None, is one of the six best-selling single-volume books of all time, along with iconic works like A Tale of Two Cities, The Lord of the Rings, The Little Prince and The Hobbit.

Also, shortly before receiving Kim’s book in the mail, I had read Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. I wasn’t a big fan of most of it, but there was one quote in it about which I felt strongly enough to copy it down. It was the one where the Roman Emperor says:

“Very often an unjust act is done by not doing something, not only by doing something.”

Then I looked at the print-out of a blog post regarding the book which Kim had included in the package. It said:

“There is another ‘N’ word that is often associated with hate and conflict. But this word is not about race or class. This word has no social or economic boundaries.”

What a brilliant way of making the point that the word “narcissism,” which should be a well-understood household term, viewed as quite important and relevant because of how much damage the trait can cause in a family or any other system, instead often goes barely noticed or discussed. One mention of the better-known “N word” can end relationships and careers (and, ironically, it may well be that narcissism itself drives some of the people that do hatefully utter it.) But a lifetime of actually living out this “N word” often goes unrecognized or even rewarded.

I have long been emphasizing that divisions based on race, class, gender and other more superficial categories serve to distract us terribly from focusing on the far more important division in humanity between those with and without a significant level of conscience.

I then checked out the back of the book itself, which describes it as “An eye opening portrayal of family conflict, based on the author’s personal experiences growing up in a dysfunctional family.” While many people interested in ponerology focus on the social and political levels, most of us first experience harmful behavior in our families. Some, unfortunately, experience it there to a significant degree. I suspect that if you surveyed the growing community of those who have been drawn to ponerologic topics, you would find that, for many, the threads of that attraction can be traced directly back to personal family dynamics.

So, basically, before opening her book, I had the idea that it would boil down to Taylor revealing, in a sense, how her interest in the impact of and optimal responses to the harmful influence of those with reduced empathy is rooted in her own childhood experience. Specifically, I expected that she would delve into the lessons she learned about how such people insidiously operate, harming others through “crimes of omission” that are much easier to keep hidden than “crimes of commission.”

Then, I glanced at the table of contents, which lists the titles of the book’s ten chapters. Every single one of the chapter titles was either curiosity-piquing, quirky or both. They all grabbed my attention and made me eager to delve into Taylor’s world.

And so I began reading.

Getting Personal

Those who write about ponerologic topics, even though I believe many, if not most, of us have both academic and personal interest in them, seem to fall into two rough categories:

1. Those who write very openly about their own personal experiences involving the influence of those with low empathy and conscience
2. Those who, even if they have been personally affected by the influence of those with low empathy and conscience, choose to keep their personal stories – especially the specific names and behaviors of other people they know – private, sticking with writing about ponerology from a more general perspective

The Sin of Omission proves Kim Taylor to fall decidedly in the former category. And how.

The book tells the story of her narcissistic brother, Tim, her enabling father and family system and the damage and pain that emerges from this mix. But it doesn’t just tell the story. It airs the family’s dirty laundry in the most open way. In this book, Taylor vents to the world the kind of frustration that most people in these situations save for their diaries or their close friends.

Just as one example of how personal the book gets:

There is one point at which Taylor explains that there is a letter she has wanted to send to her mother-in-law regarding her brother and his wife, but that she has not sent it because she feels too uncomfortable. So what has she done? Instead, she has published the letter in the book.

This level of openness led to mixed feelings for me.

On one hand, I felt almost uncomfortable with it. The book is so revealing that I wondered if the motive behind its writing might be something like revenge through exposure. And, as we’ll discuss at the end of this piece, there is some reason to consider that – perhaps even justly – it is.

On the other hand, I was also able to view her openness as an attempt at several worthwhile goals:

• Catharsis – Short of any effective way to find justice, and realizing that we are “only as sick as our secrets,” the book may serve as a way to at least express mourning, convey a visceral sense of how dramatic, chaotic and painful the drama of a dysfunctional family touched by personality disorders can be, and have her story actually witnessed. I imagine embodying her experiences and putting them out into the world in this book is a weight off Taylor’s chest.
• Understanding – The writing of the book may be part of Kim’s process of seeking answers. As I read, I could just feel her struggling with the painful questions that gnaw at many people of healthy conscience who find themselves in such a system.
  • Why does the narcissist act this way?
  • Why are others enabling the narcissist and suppressing attempts to restrain their abuses rather than aiding and comforting their victims?
  • How did these people become the type of people who would be willing and able to play these roles?
• Helping Others – The book is a cautionary tale.

Exploring the Dynamics of Reduced Empathy and Affected Family Systems

In The Sin of Omission, Kim Taylor touches on or delves into a number of aspects of conditions of reduced empathy and the workings of families in which a member has one. Those who have been in such a situation may relate to many of them.

Manipulative Tactics & Con Artistry

Kim explains some of the “tricks of the trade” that the empathy-reduced person uses to manipulate those around them. One entire chapter is devoted to talking about the time her brother fell victim to an even more skilled scammer than himself. She uses that story to branch out into a broader discussion of con artistry in general.

This discussion is based on her own research on the subject. I found this to exemplify a pattern I’ve noticed. It seems like often, once a victim of a pathological person or system comes to see through the veil of ponerologic conditions, they work to become expert on subjects related to con artistry so as to be able to protect themselves from being duped again. They may even take great pride in their newfound savvy and ability to detect deception and teach others to do so.

Jekyll and Hyde

Taylor offers the phrase “street angel, house devil,” one that her mother used, as a way of conveying how those with pathologies of conscience can charm so many people in the outside world who never see the abusive, cruel sides of them that they so openly display at home.

Vulnerabilities of the Codependent

She discusses the kinds of wounds and defense mechanisms that those with reduced empathy exploit in vulnerable codependent types of people.

The Generational Ripple Effect of Abuse & Neglect

One of the main themes of this book is how one sin – even a sin of omission – can have a deep impact, setting the stage for dysfunction to flourish for generations to come.

We often hear about how personality disorders themselves result from this generational process. But here Taylor focuses on how the aforementioned wounds and defense mechanisms that underlie the enabling behaviors of the other people around the personality-disordered person also result from this same process.

Early in the book, she tells the tale of her widower grandfather’s abandonment of his children – including her father – during the Great Depression. She goes on to reveal how this first sin facilitated a chain reaction of others, like the one carried out by a priest at the orphanage to which her abandoned father was relegated – a supposedly highly moral man – that shattered her father’s self-esteem forever. She speculates on how these early experiences of loss, abuse and neglect led her father to project his own need for care, driving him to compensate by fervently caring for others, especially the very types of people who would take advantage of him – people like his own exploitative brother and Kim’s narcissistic brother, his son.

Kim asks:

“Was it his experience at the orphanage of overdiscipline and physical abuse that made him too tolerant of a son whose behavior throughout life would be far too risk-taking for his own good? If there is a tragic flaw in all of this, that is certainly it. The orphanage might be the reason behind dad’s inability to correct a son whose narcissism ruled him.”

She contrasts her own early experience learning about the concept of reciprocity with her father’s lack of insight into its importance and compliance to those who manipulated him as a result.

How Systemic Enabling Amplifies Consequences

Kim mentions that not only did her father’s projection lead him to be compliant, but it led him to expect others to be so, as well. As a result of such a dynamic, much of the rest of the family joins in with the enabling. In her case, her mother discouraged any criticism, preferring to “keep the peace.” One of her younger brothers, who also had a vulnerable personality, became prey, at times, to the con artistry.

Eventually, any healthy limits keeping the personality-disordered person in check are discouraged and shut down. For example, Kim’s maternal grandfather tried to step in and correct Tim’s behavior for his own good and that of society. But rather than gratitude, her family responded by undermining his efforts.

It is at this point that the disordered behavior can really go off the rails.

Blocking of Family Intimacy

When some family members deny and refuse to address another family member’s personality disorder, this creates an inevitable tension and distance between them and the ones who are conscious about it. Kim talks about how the atmosphere surrounding her disordered brother prevented her from having a closer relationship with her father and, worse, how she blamed herself for that. She explains that “When one party shuts down or shuts a door because that person is not able to deal with truth and openness, it is frustrating for the other.” And in the letter to her mother-in-law she says, “It is a shame…when families end up fragmented because of one person’s disorders.”

The Extra Pain of Family Crises

Kim talks about the terrible experience of having to handle her father’s death and the decisions associated with it and its aftermath while dealing with such a difficult family system.

“Water to a Fish”

Taylor describes a key phenomenon – that, no matter how extreme, the dysfunction of our family systems often remains invisible to us when we are young since it is all we know. It is only later that life may somehow help us gain perspective and, when it does, it comes as an epiphany.

The Sickly Intriguing Nature of These Patterns

The book discusses, and, indeed, exhibits, how narcissistic-codependent types of relationships play out in toxic, yet fascinating, patterns. Once one finally does recognize them, it can become almost an obsession to study them, and it can prove difficult to look away.

Connection to Similar Patterns on Higher Social Levels

In Political Ponerology, Andrew M. Lobaczewski starts by explaining how those with pathologies of conscience can take over nations. He then goes on to show how similar, mutually reinforcing patterns play out as families and communities are corrupted, as well.

In The Sin of Omission, Taylor works in the other direction. After focusing on the patterns within her family in depth, she touches on how these mirror patterns of dependency and unsustainability at higher levels.  For instance, on page 18, she states:

“It is much like the ongoing bail-out situation related to economic crisis in the U.S. and elsewhere.”

Comparison to the Work of Barbara Oakley

Given the topic and approach of the book, I couldn’t help but compare The Sin of Omission to the work of another author that is very significant to me.

One of the most important books I’ve ever read is Evil Genes: Why Rome Fell, Hitler Rose, Enron Failed, and My Sister Stole My Mother’s Boyfriend by Barbara Oakley. Oakley, like Taylor, is a writer on the topic of pathologies of conscience who, as the full title of that book suggests, also opens up in her writing in a very personal way about her own family issues. In Evil Genes, she share stories of and examines her experience in a family that included a sister who she describes as exhibiting a combination of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and psychopathy as a means by which to consider these and related conditions. The Sin of Omission, full of stories about Taylor’s brother’s behavior and how the rest of the family responded and was affected, is in this tradition to some extent.

Oakley’s next work – Cold-Blooded Kindness: Neuroquirks of a Codependent Killer, or Just Give Me a Shot at Loving You, Dear, and Other Reflections on Helping That Hurts – focused on the flip side of the exploitative relationship, what she calls pathological altruism. (She also edited this well-received scholarly book explicitly about that subject.) And The Sin of Omission, as much as it is about narcissists themselves, is also a book about this crucial complementary aspect of the dysfunctional cycle. For, though she never uses and may not even be familiar with the term, Taylor’s thesis is that her father’s treatment in the orphanage transformed him into a pathological altruist, all too eager to extend himself in support of narcissistic manipulators and exploiters. She also explains how her own husband has kept her from falling into what she calls the “trap of ‘empathy’” of which narcissists take advantage.

However, while they share much in these ways, there are also some differences between Taylor’s work in this book and Oakley’s.

1. Oakley uses her personal family stories as jumping off points from which to delve very deeply into the hard science behind conditions of reduced empathy and conscience. Taylor doesn’t delve into the science very much at all, sticking primarily with the personal perspective. When she does veer off a bit, it’s to discuss something more humanities-oriented, like how narcissism has served as an archetype of evil in religious and historical representations, not to consider the relevant scientific evidence and research.
2. That first difference has implications for the philosophical angle taken. The scientific emphasis leads Oakley to focus more on the genetic, neurological and other biological aspects of these disorders. The Sin of Omission focuses more on the influence of childrearing. I have little doubt that both authors realize the importance of both of these angles and their interconnection. But, nonetheless, they come at this subject matter differently.
3. Oakley’s books are quite long and dense. The Sin of Omission is a short 67 pages and can easily be read in one sitting.
4. Oakley’s writing is of extremely high quality. The Sin of Omission is not nearly as eloquent in style.
5. Oakley’s writing is highly-structured and well-organized. The Sin of Omission is rambling and sometimes even chaotic.

I make this last point not simply to put down Taylor’s book. For the rambling, perhaps, is appropriate here, serving, intentionally or not, a purpose. It matches the emotional tone of that the book conveys.

While Oakley examines her family history in Evil Genes, Taylor, in this book, expresses the frustration and anger of being stuck in her family in a more visceral way. Oakley explains, seeming, for the most part, to have come to terms with her experience and to be writing as she looks back at it with perspective. Taylor rants, pouring out the exasperation generated by a seemingly never-ending ordeal of having to put up with what she aptly calls an “upside down relationship.” It is not always coherent, not always linear, not always structured or organized. But this is because it is not just a writing, but a release of grief. For she appears, as she writes, to still be in the throes of that grief and it comes across as anger and depression in search of acceptance.

So while The Sin of Omission will not win a Nobel Prize in Literature, if you have any experience with situations like Taylor’s or want to gain some insight into how devastating such situations can be, you can get a sense of it through her writing.

Both Oakley’s and Taylor’s perspectives, though different, offer something valuable that can help others.

Broadening the Perspective

Another interesting thing about Taylor’s version of her story is that it shows how the particular way that we come into contact with and are affected by certain issues can color how we view them and shape the conclusions we draw about them. As a result of her specific experiences, Taylor expresses a couple of conclusions that she has reached that I’d like to put into a broader perspective.

Parent/Child Personality-Disordered/Enabler Orientations

It’s clear that Taylor recognizes the ethical loophole upon which Ten Little Indians was based and that has haunted me for so many years. At one point she says:

“There are crimes that occur that are punishable by law and then there are crimes on a smaller scale not punishable by law but nonetheless unethical. They are committed against our families, our friends, our neighbors, our colleagues, our brothers and sisters…”

But then she finishes that quote with…

“…and especially grievous from a standpoint of moral values are those that dishonor our mothers and our fathers.”

I found it striking that she never so explicitly addressed the case that many other people experience in which a disordered parent abuses, exploits or neglects the children. I think many would say that that case is even more grievous than when a disordered child dishonors the parents, who are at least adults and better equipped to protect themselves from and withstand such behavior.

In fact, when I first heard about her book, I simply assumed the story would be about a narcissistic parent that hurt her. I was actually surprised to find that it was primarily about a narcissistic sibling who hurt her parents. This is also a worthwhile story to tell. But Taylor seems to believe the latter is the more archetypal story from which to draw lessons.

Each of our experiences colors what we see as most grievous. Taylor watched painfully as her parents were manipulated and she generalized from that experience. But it can be just as painful and damaging, if not worse, when the parent is the disordered person rather than the enabler.

The Range of Empathy-Reducing Conditions

Often, people are first affected by or learn about one particular empathy-reducing condition and then, since the various conditions with this effect can look alike, begin labeling all empathy-reduced people with that one condition. I wonder if this happened to Taylor. Perhaps, having first become familiar with narcissism and narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), and not having necessarily studied related conditions, she conflates all empathy-reducing conditions under the rubric of narcissism.

As I read, I frequently wondered if the brother being described as a narcissist is actually a psychopath. There are a number of signs that point to this possibility, including the stark terms in which Taylor describes her brother’s “evil,” not the least part of which is his markedly parasitic lifestyle, one of the hallmarks of psychopathy tested for as part of Factor 2 of the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. At one point, she compares him to Bernie Madoff, claiming that Madoff represents the epitome of narcissism. But many actually believe that Madoff, while certainly a narcissistic person, is actually a prime example of white-collar psychopathy.

We obviously cannot diagnose her brother on the basis of just the stories in this book. But it is worth considering that not all people of low conscience have NPD. Some have Borderline Personality Disorder. Some are psychopaths. A proper diagnosis is important because these disorders, while overlapping in some ways, are also, in other ways, quite different.

There is actually one place in which Taylor does consider another diagnosis for her brother. In the letter to her mother-in-law she speculates that he may be bipolar. But she never mentions the possibility of him having one of the other empathy-reducing conditions besides narcissism. And she never really mentions psychopathy at all.

Conclusion

Millions of families struggle with the types of issues that arise when members with certain empathy-reducing personality disorders generate destructive drama and other family members, or the family system overall, consistently enable them. Each has its own tale. But most of these tales will never be told, at least not publicly.

There is enormous discouraging pressure and stigma associated with exposing such family secrets. Derrick Jensen, another writer who very openly and powerfully exposes family secrets in his work, often quotes famed psychiatrist R.D. Laing’s three rule of a dysfunctional family:

• Rule A is Don’t.
• Rule A.1 is Rule A does not exist.
• Rule A.2 is Never discuss the existence or nonexistence of Rules A, A.1, or A.2.

For better or worse, Kim Taylor decided to break these rules and “spill the beans” to the world. Her personal frustrations, born of being the caring person – one whose very life has become committed to Fair Play – in a family affected by a highly-enabled narcissist have been published.

It is unnerving. The Sin of Omission reveals the kinds of family conversations that most people dwell on privately and never share with everybody else. The eighth chapter of the book is entitled “Those are the Sacrifices You Make for Family.” Often, secrecy is one of the ultimate sacrifices made in dysfunctional families.

But Taylor has refused to make that sacrifice anymore. She waited until her parents were gone to do so. But her brother, Tim, is still alive.

Yet, if we are ever to really see clearly what is happening in our culture and our systems, conversations like these will have to be exposed to disinfecting sunlight. We see it happening with leaks at other levels of human systems. And Taylor’s book is, in a sense, a whistleblower leak of her family secrets.

It is hard to know for sure what the truth is in situations like this. Family dynamics are complex and one is hesitant to make a final judgment without hearing everyone’s story. But, at the same time, this careful deliberative approach, if it leads to too great a hesitancy to make decisions, is something empathy-reduced people can sometimes exploit.

I cannot definitively say exactly what really happened in Taylor’s family. But I can confidently say that what she describes happens in families every day causing untold pain and suffering, often with the most undeserving suffering the most.

I loved the idea of Narcissist cologne and a company based on the concept of Fair Play. Having read Taylor’s book and been granted a view into her experience of her family, I now have a much better insight regarding why she became so personally passionate about these endeavors and the issues that they involve in the first place.

The motive behind this book, and perhaps much of Taylor’s life and work, became most clear to me when she explained:

“Tim’s anger was always turned outward rather than inward. He chose from among those closest to him as a target for this anger. More often than not, he chose to target me both verbally and physically. He saw me as a competitor. I was a threat to him because of my abilities and accomplishments.”

It is in light of a comment like this that the book could be interpreted as an attempt at revenge. But, if you really consider this statement, it is a deeply tragic one. You can empathize with Taylor’s agony at being a good kid, doing her best to be a caring person and, nonetheless, being abused by an envious Machiavellian sibling.

And, worse, hidden in those words, is the pain that inheres in the question “Why didn’t my parents protect me from him?” Her parents’ indulgence of their empathy-reduced son left their daughter vulnerable. This is the central recent sin of omission that we can trace all the way back to her grandfather’s original sin of abandoning his children. It is an archetypal example of how those of healthy conscience so often pay the price when those with pathologies of conscience are not held accountable or even identified as such. That rank injustice is what is so unconscionable to those who have a conscience to care.

As Kim says, “There is nothing like paying for others’ mistakes.”

The ultimate lesson of The Sin of Omission might be summed up when Taylor points out that children need a healthy balance of discipline and freedom and that that healthy balance must be determined not in a formulaic way, but taking into account a particular child’s ability to self-monitor. We must incorporate individual differences in these assessments. But, whether because an empathy-reduced parent cannot read and reflect back to a child properly or because an empathy-reduced child is not recognized and appropriately adjusted to by a misguided or naïve parent, this process too often fails. And, when it does, as Taylor’s book shows – cries out about, in fact – the ripple effect of suffering can be tremendous.

Dr. Kent Kiehl of the Mind Research Network has been one of the more active researchers investigating what we can learn from brain imaging of psychopaths. And he and colleagues have recently published, in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, a study entitled “Neuroprediction of future rearrest.”

The study involved having 96 soon-to-be-released male prisoners perform computer tasks that required quick decision-making and inhibition of impulsive responses, while their brains were observed using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI). The researchers focused in on the brain region known as the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) and found that, when controlling for other known risk factors, those prisoners with less ACC activity than their fellow study participants were about twice as likely to be rearrested within 4 years of release as those with higher ACC activity.

We’ve already mentioned, in previous stories, that reduced cingulate cortex function is associated with psychopathy and has been identified in some violent criminal offenders.

The question is, as we zero in on markers like this – whether they be certain anatomical or functional characteristics of the brain, particular genetic features or anything else – what is the most ethical way in which to use this knowledge?

On one hand, it could be considered highly unethical and dangerous to discriminate against, detain or punish anybody – even a previous offender – simply because they happen to exhibit particular biological markers if those markers have not expressed themselves in a specific behavior for which they are being criminally charged. Beginning to do so could open the door to frightening abuses by authorities.

Most of the commenters on the Daily Mail’s story about this study fell on this side of the issue and raised such concerns.

For example, “Dunnyveg” said:

“Actually, low IQ, high testosterone, and a record of previous convictions are the best indicators for recidivism; there is no need for fancy technology. But none of these absolve society from our time-honored principle of innocent until proven guilty. Talk about a potential totalitarian nightmare, this is it….”

“Percival” said:

“Still like technology gullible science fans? Little do you realise these are not to benefit you but to control you, all of it is too control and watch and report back and have you slaves to the system.”

Martin said:

“Well that fills the biggest gap left in achieving the full ’1984 infrastructure’ now they’re rolling out internet TVs that watch you and listen to you (and that some mugs are actually buying) – welcome to the world of ‘thought crime’ ….”

The very idea of predicting and preemptively acting to prevent crimes before they are committed reminds many of the brilliant Philip K. Dick story, later made into a movie by Steven Spielberg, “The Minority Report.”

On the Daily Mail article, “Jeff Pringle” commented:

“Minority Report anyone?”

And Nature began their story on the study with “In a twist that evokes the dystopian science fiction of writer Philip K. Dick…” and, later in the article, mentioned “The Minority Report.”

But, on the other hand, it could be considered unethical not to use our improving predictive ability if failing to do so allows offenders to cause harm and suffering to others that could have, with minimal collateral damage, been prevented. How would you feel if a loved one was harmed by a person who we knew ahead of time, based on various markers and indicators, had an extremely high likelihood of offending but did nothing to stop?

Some may take comfort in the fact that we can, for the moment, postpone fully grappling with these dilemmas. Our predictive ability based on markers like those in Kiehl’s study is still poor enough that it seems clearly unreasonable, at the present time, to base highly consequential legal actions on it alone. Even Kiehl himself concedes as much.

But as our knowledge and technology improve, there may well come a day when the gap between the pros and cons of applying them to predict and prevent crime narrows. Eventually, we may have to decide at exactly which threshold level of predictive reliability it becomes more unethical, even in the face of potential unintended consequences, to allow a person marked as extremely likely to cause harm to act freely than to take action to reduce the threat they pose. The decision about where to draw such a line could arouse furious debate.

One commenter on the Nature article, “Mitch Trachtenberg,” offered a nice middle ground where many of us, despite different viewpoints on the matter, may frequently find ourselves able to meet, when he said:

“This knowledge could be abused by someone refusing to release someone on parole or probation due to “unacceptable-ACC-levels.” But it could really be helpful if the results were used to get someone additional help or even monitoring. Helping people with problems controlling their impulses could be beneficial, and it would be great to have a way of discovering which people in our prison system might well be there for exactly that reason.”

Hopefully Mitch’s idea will prove prescient and we can find a way, at least much of the time, to use this knowledge and these tools in a compassionate way that aims to authentically help people, not just stigmatize or harass them. But it’s hard to imagine a future where we aren’t sometimes faced with incredibly difficult decisions about cases that just don’t allow for any easy middle ground where we can hide.

What are your thoughts on the subject?

How do you weigh the danger of authorities abusing these predictive abilities against the threat posed by individuals with biological markers associated with harming others?

What do you think is the most ethical way to deal with the dilemmas these predictive abilities may one day pose?

Let us know in the comments below.

Most who work in the fields that study aspects of this question take the view that the answer involves some combination of the two.

But this still leaves us with another question. In what proportion do each of these factors contribute in which people?

One remarkable case offers some fascinating insight on the subject.

Dr. James Fallon

James Fallon, Ph.D. is a highly decorated neuroscientist and Professor Emeritus of Anatomy and Neurobiology at University of California, Irvine. Dr. Fallon has several areas of expertise. One is adult stem cells. Another is psychiatry. Specifically, he is interested in the relationships between brain imaging (he has served as Director of UC Irvine’s Human Brain Imaging Center), genetics and various psychiatric conditions, including schizophrenia, depression and addictions.

An Extraordinary Experiment

Aware of his specialties, for many years, Fallon’s colleagues have sent him brain images they wished to have him analyze.

At one point this interchange took the form of an experiment.

Colleagues sent him 70 MRI scans of brains belonging to people ranging from healthy to mentally ill. Included in the batch were scans of brains belonging to killers, including some notorious ones. But Fallon had no idea which scanned brain belonged to whom.

Nonetheless, he was able to identify differences in five of the scans so dramatic that he could recognize them as the markers of psychopathy. And it turned out that he was correct. The five scans on which he zeroed in actually were those from the brains of psychopathic serial killers.

Signs of the Psychopath’s Brain

How could Fallon distinguish the serial killers’ brain scans from the others? He says that all five had some tell-tale signs:

• A lack of activity in the orbital cortex, the brain area just above the eyes, which he says is in the circuit coding for ethics, conscience and impulse control
• A lack of activity in the anterior part of the temporal cortex, where we find the amygdala, a structure deeply involved in processing emotion
• Underfunctioning in the narrow strip of limbic cortices that connect the orbital cortex with the amygdala, namely:
  • The cingulate cortex, which codes for social cues
  • The hippocampal area, which, along with the amygdala, codes for emotional memories
  • The insula, which processes empathy and “gut feelings”

This makes sense. These areas are considered part of the limbic system, the brain complex primarily responsible for our emotional lives. When these areas are underactive or inactive, a person might feel driven – like many killers – to compensate by repeatedly pursuing extreme activities simply to feel satisfied and alive.

Violence-Related Genes

In addition to his study of killers’ brains, Fallon has also studied the genetics of aggression and violence.

Psychological traits are affected by multiple genes. And Fallon says that perhaps a dozen have been identified as high-risk, violence-related genes. These include genes affecting dopamine and norepinephrine neurotransmission and androgen (testosterone) receptors.

The most well-known of these violence-related genes is a particular version of the Monoamine Oxidase A (MAOA) gene. Because it was the first such gene discovered, it was labeled, and has become popularly known as, “the Warrior Gene,” although Fallon stresses that this nickname can be misleading since all of the various genes associated with violence and aggression could be considered, in a sense, warrior genes.

Most humans have an MAOA gene and it helps regulate serotonin, a neurotransmitter that Fallon says helps relax and calm us. But those with the “Warrior Gene” form of it receive too much serotonin during development in utero, which desensitizes the brain to its effects. That means that later in life, when serotonin would otherwise inhibit behavior, it is unable to do so, resulting in impulsivity and violence.

The MAOA gene is on the X chromosome. This has important implications for how its effects express themselves in males vs. females. Girls get an X chromosome from both their mother and father, so even if one parent passes along the “Warrior Gene” variant, they are likely to get a normally functional MAOA variant from the other parent that offsets its potentially dangerous consequences. But boys get only one X chromosome – the one passed down from their mother. If that X chromosome has the “Warrior” version of the MAOA gene, that will be the only version of it that the boy receives.

This means that violence related to the MAOA “Warrior Gene” is usually passed genetically from mother to son. Fallon believes it also explains why boys and men are much more likely to be very aggressive or psychopathic killers.

Moreover, Fallon says that the reduced empathy seen in psychopathy may be associated with the influence of low acting genes related to the hormones oxytocin and vasopressin.

Can Biology Alone Create a Psychopath?

So, putting this together, Fallon recognized patterns in both the brains and genetics of psychopathic killers.

1. Loss of function in the orbital cortex, anterior temporal lobes and the strip of limbic cortices connecting the two
2. Having one or more of several high-risk, violence-related genes (like the so-called “Warrior Gene”)

But a crucial question remained. Are these biological markers alone enough to create a psychopath?

Fallon suspected not. But little did he know that he would receive some validation for this suspicion from so close to home.

A Shocking Fallon Family Pattern is Revealed

Based on his work, Fallon was giving many presentations about psychopathic killers. His mother said that, since he was doing this, he should probably know about the release of a new book called Killed Strangely: The Death of Rebecca Cornell.

The Cornells, you see, were direct ancestors of Fallon’s father. One of them, for instance, was Ezra Cornell, the founder of Cornell University. But Killed Strangely is about another, more sinister Cornell: Thomas Cornell, who killed his mother, Rebecca, and was hanged for it in 1673, the first case of matricide, Fallon says, recorded in the new American colonies.

Investigating further, Fallon discovered that the rabbit hole went even deeper. There were actually seven murders committed by those within his father’s family line. This line also included Lizzie Borden, his cousin, who was controversially acquitted of killing her father and stepmother with an axe in 1892.

Testing Enlightens the Fallons

After learning of his family’s bloody history, James Fallon decided to have brain imaging – PET scans and EEG’s – as well as genetic analyses carried out on himself and nine family members, including his parents, wife and children, to see if any had the markings of killers.

The results:

• All of the images of the family members’ brains were normal when analyzed for markers of potential violence…except for the images of one, Fallon’s own. His scan looked identical to those of the serial killers he had studied, with a malfunctioning limbic system lacking activity in the orbital cortex, anterior temporal lobes and areas connecting them.
• The entire family exhibited a typical mix of genes related to aggression, impulsivity and other relevant traits…except one member. Fallon himself not only had high-risk genes associated with violence, but he had far more of them than many psychopaths and killers. In fact, he says, he had almost all of them.

His family’s reaction to these results is quite interesting:

His son said that he always knew there was something “off” about his father and that, at times, he had feared him because he is a “hothead” with all the traits you’d expect in a serial killer. He said this makes more sense now that he knows that his father has the brain and genetics of a psychopath.

Fallon’s wife said the results were surprising, yet not surprising because he is, in a way, two people, with a funny, gregarious side mixed with a standoffish side.

James Fallon himself does admit to some macabre interests, a predilection for risk-taking and a superficial charm, which you might see in psychopaths and murderers. And he also admits he may sometimes be drawn to behavior that he knows is wrong but “still doesn’t care.”

The Third Ingredient

But, however imperfect, James Fallon is not violent or a killer. And this has enormous implications.

How is it that, despite having so many biological markers for violence, Fallon ended up a scholar rather than an aggressor or even a murderer?

Fallon has come to believe that, in addition to particular brain and genetic patterns, there is a third ingredient involved in the development of a violent psychopath. The environment, he explains, can help determine whether violence-related genes and certain brain processes, such as those involving mirror neurons, are triggered towards aggression. Specifically, he believes that abuse – especially severe early childhood sexual, physical or emotional abuse – is instrumental in this process. And he also believes that the precise timing of when various factors come into play is critically important in determining whether one becomes a psychopath and, if so, exactly what type of psychopathological behavior is exhibited.

As for why he himself is not a violent man, Dr. Fallon credits his upbringing in a highly nurturing environment, in which he was not only not abused, but was showered with wonderfully loving family support.

Some of Dr. James Fallon’s Appearances

Fallon has spoken on these topics in a number of forums, including:

• This television interview
• A TED talk entitled “Jim Fallon: Exploring the mind of a killer”Here, Fallon talks about his research and his story.

  He also gives a brief synopsis of a talk he did in Israel about his theory of transgenerational, sex-linked violence in perpetually conflicted world regions. His theory is that severe trauma before the onset of puberty triggers violent expression in those with violence-related genes such as, for example, the “Warrior” version of the MAOA gene. When this happens frequently in an area, the environment becomes increasingly threatening, so aggressive men, capable of physical protection and more likely to carry these genes, become more and more attractive to females. In consequence, violence-related genes become relatively highly concentrated in the population’s gene pool, sparking a vicious cycle.

  This theory is consistent with a similar, somewhat stunning, phenomenon that I discussed in my own writings on psychopathy.

• An episode of Reason TV called “Three Ingredients for Murder: Neuroscientist James Fallon on Psychopaths and Libertarians”Here, in addition to sharing his story, Fallon discusses the implications of work like his for our views of free will and responsibility, as well as for our legal system, especially in regards to psychopaths. He also discusses how our increasing ability to recognize each person’s unique makeup will challenge our capacity for creating standards in public policy and drive us toward individualized medicine. And he explains why he is a libertarian and how that may correlate with the function and/or lack of function in certain brain areas.

• A September 2011 episode of the BBC program Horizon entitled “Are You Good or Evil?”In these clips from the show, Fallon talks about his research on the brain scans of murderers, the tests carried out on him and his family and his discovery that his results showed the brain and genetic patterns seen in psychopathy.

  The first video also contains a quote that I found very powerful which serves to crystallize Fallon’s study of killers:

  It really indicated that there was a biological basis – a really hardcore brain basis – for this urge to kill.

  
  The second video includes the comments about his personality attributed earlier to his son and his wife.

• A segment called “Confessions of a Pro-Social Psychopath” produced by the World Science Festival in conjunction with The Moth, a non-profit that promotes storytelling.The title of this talk grabbed me because I had often wondered whether there could be “pro-social psychopaths,” but I had never heard the term used elsewhere. I also found this to be a nice overall telling of his story by Fallon.

Dr. Fallon also appeared on a November 18, 2009 episode of Criminal Minds, the CBS drama about FBI profilers. In the episode, which was based on his TED talk, he played himself giving a lecture about his theory of transgenerational violence in areas of conflict, which was mentioned earlier.

What Fallon May Tell Us About a Possible Future with Less Psychopaths and Killers

What are the implications of Fallon’s research and his story for society at large?

Well, there are some conditions for which we screen early in life. If we detect that a person has or is at risk for such a condition, we can then intervene in time to prevent or best manage it.

A good example is phenylketonuria (PKU). This is a genetic disorder in which an enzyme needed to properly metabolize a particular amino acid, phenylalanine, is rendered nonfunctional. As a result, a person with PKU who eats a normal diet can experience severe consequences including mental retardation.

Luckily, in most countries, newborns are screened for PKU. If it is detected, they can be put on a special diet in which phenylalanine is restricted and special supplements are provided. As a result, the person with PKU can live a normal, healthy life.

Fallon’s case raises the possibility that, as advocated by Adrian Raine, we may someday be able to screen children for a predisposition to psychopathy and, when they are identified as at-risk, intervene with special measures to prevent or best manage the development of violent or other dangerous propensities in at least some of them. Further research could be done to more specifically identify the types of measures that bring about the healthiest outcomes for such individuals and those around them. But it’s likely that these would include conscientious provision, throughout these youngsters’ upbringings, of the abundance of love and care for which Fallon credits his own nonviolent lifestyle.

In other words, we may someday see a future when all, or at least at-risk, families will be tested for the markers of violence just the way Fallon’s was so that those who do have the brains and genes we find in psychopaths can more often develop into, say, professors like James Fallon rather than killers like too many others – including some of those he has studied for a living and quite a few of his recent ancestors.