Reviewed by Joyce Alexander, RNP (retired)
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 is the tongue-in-cheek title of this book by Barbara Oakley, with a foreword by David Sloan Wilson. It belies the serious research and investigation done by this remarkable, highly educated and acclaimed woman.
Oakley is associate professor of engineering at Oakland University in Michigan, and her work focuses mainly on the complex relationship between neurocircuitry and social behavior. The list of her varied experiences reads like fiction ”¦ she worked for several years as a Russian language translator on Soviet fishing trawlers in the Bearing Sea during the height of the Cold War. She met her husband while working as a radio operator at the South Pole station in Antarctica. She went from private to Regular Army captain in the U.S. military, and is also a fellow of the American Institute of Medical and Biological Engineering.
In Cold-Blooded Kindness, along with a project called Pathological Altruism (forthcoming book by the same name this year), Oakley was investigating if altruism could be taken to the extreme and become pathological and harmful.
Some “researchers” have, for what they thought was the “greater good,” slanted their research to show what they believed was an altruistic motive. For example, many people have heard about the “battered woman syndrome,” and how it is now incorporated into laws in many states as a mitigating factor in cases where women wound or kill the men who have battered (or supposedly battered) them. What isn’t known, though, is that the “research” into this “syndrome” was badly flawed. The researcher was a woman who was so intent on doing the “greater good” of protecting abused women, that her altruism caused her to slant her studies, and anyone who pointed out that her research was suspect, was in fact, “blaming the victim,” and therefore, evil.
Oakley points out that she started to seek out a person who appeared to be altruistic to the point that it became harmful, but her own research led her to see the situation differently than she had planned.
She started investigating a Utah woman and artist named Carole Alden, who had “been abused” and had killed that abusive husband, Marty Sessions. But the book really isn’t so much about Alden murdering Sessions, for which she ended up in prison, but about how Carole Alden, though presenting herself as the ultimate altruist (rescuing animals and people), was instead, the ultimate abuser.
The examination of the human brain, and the social interactions of children, and the development of empathy and altruism in children, are explored. Both the social and the genetic aspects of these are gone into in depth.
Oakley explores “co-dependency” and “enabling” behaviors and calls for more actual research into these areas, especially concerning possible sex hormone links and to genetics. She also points out while little, if any, real research has been done on “battered women syndrome,” and it is not accepted in the DSM-IV, it is accepted in many state statutes.
Oakley never comes out and actually says Carole Alden is a psychopath (though the word is used and described in the book itself), but Oakley’s book describes Carole Alden’s behavior relative to the Psychopathic Check List-Revised. It shows that while Carole presented herself to others as a victim of circumstances, and as altruistic to the nth degree, she was, in fact, a controlling, manipulative, using, abusing, pathological liar, who took in dozens, if not hundreds, of stray animals. She cared for them poorly in most cases, but better than she cared for her own children.
It is also possible that Carole is a serial killer, as there are two other deaths of men she was involved with that were “suspicious” in their very nature.
When Oakley was corresponding with Carole Alden, she was convinced by the letters that Carole Alden was the personality she was seeking for her thesis of “altruism gone too far,” and that Carole was indeed the victim of this. Upon meeting Carole though, in prison, Oakley began to see the real situation. When she investigated the family, the crime, the real history of Carole Alden, not just the self-serving tales of how everyone abused her, Oakley began to see the malignancy. Carole changed her story, came to believe her own lies, and slanted all aspects of “truth,” even in the face of evidence to the contrary.
Not only is this a history of one pathological woman who murdered one man and possibly more, and who abused and neglected her children, it is about the personality disordered in general who present themselves as victims, when in fact, they are at best—co-victims/co-abusers with their partners.
Oakley is not “blaming” legitimate victim, but seeking to find the common thread in some partners (women and men) who participate to one degree or another with the abuse they endure. She is seeking a way to educate and warn these people so that the abuse can be prevented.
While Carole Alden took in a series of ex-convict men, who were addicts, to “cure” and “fix” them, which appeared to be altruistic in nature, in fact, it was anything but altruistic. It supplied Carole with her “professional victim” and “professional altruistic” persona that she was seeking to establish. What caused this in Carole, when her parents and other siblings were apparently normal and highly functioning members of society?
I tend to underline and highlight important passages in my books as I read, and I finally gave up trying with this book, as the first 100 pages are almost all day-glow yellow.
This is a highly readable book, and I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of one of Oakley’s previous books. I will also be one of the first in line to buy her upcoming one Pathological Altruism. I highly recommend that anyone who is seriously trying to figure out how we (former victims) are alike, and how the fake altruism of some psychopaths works, read this book.
Cold-Blooded Kindness on Amazon.com
Oxy said, “Yea, we only start dying when we QUIT LEARNING I think!”
Took the words out of my mouth… Life would cease to have purpose for me, and utterly boring, if I couldn’t learn from life anymore…
It’s my favourite saying to the teens who are tired of school. Life out there is learning too. Everything you experience and meet and do, learning will never end, unless life ends.
That’s the one time I contemplated the end of my life… when I was emotionally and mentally stuck for months, feeling pain each day. There was no progress, and I couldn’t find a little piece of the wool thread to unravel everything and learn.
Candy, you are right, life is NOT all bad…my granny was a life long enabler, the daughter of a drunken abusing father and an enabling mother….ran in her father’s family….but she loved me, and she was not one to “punish” you if you didn’t go along with her enabling like my egg donor does…still not healthy, but not evil either.
Yes, I have lots of great memories of her and was with her the night she died and took care of her for the last few weeks of her life and spent many hours listening to her tell stories of her youth.
She taught me to tat, knit, cook, garden and can and preserve foods….she took great joy in my kids and me, was always very supportive of me. Hardly ever critical.
Such nice stories and memories of the warm talks and cuddles in old feather beds. Makes me think of the old squeeky sagging beds we slept in at the cottage, with all the old quilts piled on. We’d never consider using beds like that at home, but in the right place and with the right people, it seemed like heaven. Lying there with old quilts piled around me listening to the loons and tree frogs. Thanks for the nice memories candy and Oxy!
Referring back to Kim and Katy’s discussion reminds me how easy it is for our pain and trauma responses to get in the way and sidetrack things. It can sometimes make even a minor mistake or misstep escalate when our ways of coping inadvertently get in the way of what could often be a simple step back and correction.
If One/Joy is reading here, I inadvertantly responded to her last night in a way that might have been triggering, but didn’t realize that until after I’d posted it. It then tried to modify it to let her understand why I wrote it that way. But then I realized that the point shouldn’t be about explaining myself, it should be about correcting it so that it doesn’t hurt her, so I edited myself again. But I didn’t know what she may or may not be thinking, and I realized that saying anything further might only hurt her more, and I just resolved to shut up for the night and go to bed, and hope that a more appropriate solution would come to me. It hasn’t yet, other than me saying: One/Joy if you’re reading this and this makes any sense to you at all, I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt you. Completely unintended, but didn’t know how to get my feet out of my mouth without potentially hurting you more.
For what it’s worth Katy, I interpreted what you wrote the same way Kim did, and I wondered if it may have been a veiled punch at her. But, obviously considering what I’ve just written, I know how easy it is to write something unintended that hurts someone. But I have to agree with Kim that asking her to emphathize with you certainly didn’t help the situation and felt like another possible escalation. As I’m always telling my husband(!!!) a simple “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean it that way” instead of explaining yourself goes a long way. It’s a lesson I’m working on myself, needless to say.
Annie,
When we are in pain we sometimes strike out at even the helping hand that is extended to us.
I recall once I fell on some brick steps and hit my shin a horrible lick….immediately a bruise the size of a grapefruit rose up. My beloved husband reached out a hand to me in concern and I remember screaming at him “DO NOT TOUCH ME!!!!!!” I was in so much agony myself, so raw that even the most benign touch would have been agony.
I have also reached out to others and had them shout back at me. I try to understand, and be understanding that they are in pain. It isn’t personal. There was a time though, when if I did reach out to someone and said something that triggered them to shout out at me I was DEVASTATED, but I’ve pretty well gotten past that point now and am no longer so raw that I become hurt or offended when someone reacts to my extended hand in a negative way.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” goes a long way, but sometimes even that isn’t enough and we just have to sort of back off and let things simmer down. Making an effort to say “I didn’t mean to offend you” is a good start though.
Most people here know me well enough they know I am not PURPOSELY OFFENSIVE but that doesn’t mean I don’t offend some folks some times on one side (reference to the guys on the train looking at the sheep in Ireland who were “white, on one side, some of the time”) LOL
Constantine,
Well stranger things have happened. We were in Dublin at the Gaity theater to see O’Connor’s “The Plough and the Stars” with Steven Rea and when it was time for intermission we got to chatting with the couple sitting in the seats in front of us and the woman was from my home town all the way over here in the Southwest USA!
As God is my witness my friend went to Spain and met one of his exes per chance! It was around ten years ago and all I know is her name and her opinion of him was not good at tall at tall.
Weird huh?
I was already suspecting as much but to get it from an ex clear on the other side of the world. SOMEONE wanted me to wake up!
The good thing is I have been able to process TEN YEARS of crap here on LF. I am sad to say his letters, and all our memorabilia stays locked away in a trunk and I can’t bear to go there especially now that I know it was all a lie…
but I am better for it.
Miss Annie Bananie! girl, i didn’t see what you wrote! No idea, and i am not asking now, because i don’t need to borrow trouble. 🙂
(((((((((((((((katy))))))))))))))))))
Constant,
p.s. so what are you a miner?
“I spend most of my life in the dark, so I can vouch for the importance of getting at least an hour of direct sunlight per day: it makes a world of difference!”
If you don’t mind me asking. I am just a curious George…
Annie,
If you’ve read all my/Kim exchanges, I hope you see the progression of communication.
What is HUGELY different for me is that if I mis-write, (which can happen b/c I reminince in my head while I type and sometimes what I THOUGHT I typed didn’t end on the post….), most people will let me explain myself, or help me to understand their perception so I know what it was that I wrote that was not what I intended.
When I made a mistake with my spath, and used ONE WRONG WORD, it negated EVERYTHING and punishment would follow, whether a night out with another woman, or walking out the door as if I didn’t exist, or some kind of rejection. Some times it would happen and he’d refuse to tell me what was wrong, only that “i should know” and SOMETIMES HE didn’t even hear me in the first place (he’s mostly deaf in one ear) so he punished me for what I MIGHT say. And since I am the bossy bitch, whatever I might say was obviously determined to be deserving of condemning dismissal and punishment.
I have always been a believer in being accountable and at least Kim allowed me to be just that.
(but as I re-read my post, i see that I intended to start a new paragraph so it SEEMS as if I refer to her as a rubber necker when that wasn’t my thought at all. I was thinking of my book group that insisted on reading Ellen Foster (?) and how they ridiculed me b/c I didn’t think the girl had it so bad… they judged me as no empathy too, but I was thinking my childhood was so much worse and I would have been glad for Ellen Fosters childhood. As my daughter says, when I edit, I write well. When I don’t, it’s hard to follow – sentences out of sequence, bad punctuation etc.)
Okay, nuff rambling. See how my head spins but not necessarily what I type? I think it a little ocd as well as being with my spath for 20 years.
Annie, It was the specific KIND of abuse I received from my husband that makes me want to explain b/c the feeling I get is one of gut sinking something terrible is gonna happen if I don’t FIX it b/c something about me is So wrong but I don’t know what it is… but others can see it and punish me to the point where I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
In MY life, NOBODY would have ever forgiven me for just saying “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” NOBODY EVER.