Kevin Dutton, Ph.D., is a fabulous writer. Unfortunately, in his new book, The Wisdom of Psychopaths—What saints, spies, and serial killers can teach us about success, he uses his prodigious skill with words to promote a fundamentally flawed thesis.
What is the thesis? That psychopathy, “in small doses,” is good for us. Here’s what Dutton writes in the preface of the book:
Psychopathy can also be good for us, at least in moderation. Like anxiety, depression, and quite a few other psychological disorders, it can at times be adaptive. Psychopaths, as we shall discover, have a variety of attributes—personal magnetism and a genius for disguise being just the starter pack—which, once you know how to harness them and keep them in check, often confer considerable advantages not just in the workplace, but in everyday life. Psychopathy is like sunlight. Overexposure can hasten one’s demise in grotesque, carcinogenic fashion. But regulated exposure at controlled and optimal levels can have a significant positive impact on well-being and quality of life.
In the pages that follow we’ll examine these attributes in detail, and learn how incorporating them into our own psychological skill set can dramatically transform our lives. Of course, it’s in no way my intention to glamorize the actions of psychopaths—certainly not the actions of dysfunctional psychopaths, anyway. That would be like glamorizing a cognitive melanoma: the malignant machinations of cancer of the personality. But there’s evidence to suggest that psychopathy, in small doses at least, is personality with a tan—and it can have surprising benefits.
Kevin Dutton has a Ph.D. in psychology. He’s a research psychologist and an honorary affiliated member of the Calleva Research Centre for Evolution and Human Sciences at the University of Oxford, England. In writing The Wisdom of Psychopaths, he interviewed all of the top experts in the field of psychopathy. Then he cherry-picked the information to present an incomplete and lopsided view of psychopathy, emphasizing the “positives” and ignoring the negatives, such as the fact that psychopaths live their lives by exploiting people.
Persuasive writing style
How did he do this? Dutton used tried-and-true techniques of magazine journalists and direct mail copywriters (both of which I am).
The difference between writing for magazines and writing for newspapers is that while news articles are supposed to be objective, magazine articles are unabashedly subjective. (By the way, there is no such thing as objective journalism, even in the newspaper business. Simply selecting which facts to include in a story is subjective. Complete objectivity is impossible.)
The purpose of a magazine article is to convince the reader of the author’s point of view. When I studied magazine journalism at Syracuse University, I was taught to not give equal weight to opposing viewpoints. I was taught to acknowledge opposing viewpoints, then present an argument to prove they were wrong.
For example, Dutton wrote above that he didn’t want to “glamorize the actions of psychopaths,” but then he goes ahead and says psychopathy can have benefits. He spends the rest of his book glamorizing psychopaths, and creating an illusion that psychopaths can be “harnessed” and “kept in check.”
The most dangerous thing Dutton does is employ a direct mail copywriting technique called verisimilitude, which is defined as “the appearance or semblance of truth.” (The comedian Stephen Colbert calls this “truthiness.”) For example, on page 11 Dutton writes:
Psychopaths are fearless, confident, charismatic, ruthless, and focused. Yet contrary to popular belief, they are not necessarily violent. And if that sounds good, well, it is.
The way Dutton describes psychopaths is technically true. But he neglects to mention the most salient characteristics of a psychopath, at least according to Lovefraud’s research: Deceitfulness and manipulation. He also doesn’t include traits like exploitative, irresponsible, aggressive and reckless.
So what would happen if he told the whole truth? Well, here it is:
Psychopaths are fearless, confident, charismatic, ruthless, focused, deceitful, manipulative, exploitative, irresponsible, aggressive and reckless. Yet contrary to popular belief, they are not necessarily violent. And if that sounds good, well, it is.
What do you think? If Dutton wrote the above paragraph on page 11 of the book, would you believe any of the rest of it?
Twisted research
He quotes a multitude of experts and research studies in support of his points, giving the impression that these experts and studies prove what he advocates. Which, in a way, they do. The problem is that Dutton tells only half of the story, uses the experts to support the half that he is telling, and totally ignores the rest of the story.
For example, on page 61, Dutton talks about the work of Scott Lilienfeld, who developed the Psychopathic Personality Inventory, a comprehensive questionnaire designed to work with both criminal and non-criminal psychopaths. Dutton quotes Lilienfeld as saying, “We reasoned that psychopathy was on a spectrum.” Then Dutton writes:
Lilienfeld’s notion of psychopathy being on a spectrum makes a good deal of sense. If psychopathy is conceptualized as an extension of normal personality, then it follows logically that psychopathy itself must be scalar, and that more or less of it in any given context might confer considerable advantages. Such a premise is not without precedent in the annals of mental dysfunction (if, indeed, psychopathy is dysfunctional, given its benefits under certain conditions).
So Dutton quotes Lilienfeld, and then transitions into the statement that more or less psychopathy “might confer considerable advantages.” I wonder if Dutton studied elementary logic, because one statement has nothing to do with the other.
On page 121, Dutton describes a conversation with James Blair, in which he asks, “Does it pay to be a psychopath?” Here’s what comes next:
Blair was cautious. It’s a dangerous road to go down. “It’s true that if bad things are happening the individual with psychopathy might be less worried about it,” he told me. “However, it’s not so clear that their decision making in such situations would be particularly good, though. Moreover, by not analyzing levels of threat appropriately, they might walk into danger, rather than away from it.”
In other words, if we could somehow defrost the reasoning a bit, take some of the chill out of the logic, then yes, psychopathic traits may well confer advantages. Otherwise, forget it.
I did not interpret Blair’s quote to at all signify that “it pays to be a psychopath.” But Dutton brazenly twisted Blair’s words around to suit his own argument.
Cavalier statements
This book is filled with cavalier statements that ignore the essential truth of psychopaths: They are lying, manipulating exploiters who cause considerable damage to almost everyone around them. For example, on page 106 Dutton writes:
Ironically, the rule-bending, risk-taking, thrill-seeking individuals who were responsible for tipping the world economy over the edge are precisely the same personalities who will come to fore in the wreckage.
Hello? Yes, research has indicated that the recent world financial collapse was likely caused by psychopaths. Dutton doesn’t consider this to be a problem?
Then there’s page 163:
Was psychopathy a “medicine for modern times”? Could taking it in moderation, twiddling those dials a little to the right on our respective psychopath mixing decks—at certain times, in certain specific contexts—actually be good for us?
And page 192:
Not all psychopaths are saints. And not all saints are psychopaths. But there’s evidence to suggest that deep within the corridors of the brain, psychopathy and sainthood share secret neural office space. And that some psychopathic attributes—stoicism, the ability to regulate emotion, to live in the moment, to enter altered states of awareness, to be heroic, fearless, yes, even empathic—are also inherently spiritual in nature, and not only improve one’s own well-being, but also that of others.
Regulate emotion? Has Dutton ever witnessed a psychopath flying into a rage? And by the way, this last quote was in the section of the book entitled “Saint Paul—the patron saint of psychopaths.”
Deja vu
I was married to a psychopath. My ex-husband, James Montgomery, personified the traits that Dutton extols: fearless, confident, charismatic, ruthless, and focused. He also personified the traits that Dutton ignored: deceitful, manipulative, exploitative, irresponsible, aggressive and reckless.
As I was reading The Wisdom of Psychopaths, I felt a disturbing sense of deja vu that mounted with each page. About a third of the way through the book, I realized why I was uncomfortable: Kevin Dutton’s writing was very similar that of my ex-husband.
Montgomery was exceptionally proud of his skill with words. Verbally and in writing, he could paint shimmering pictures with his words, glistening images of our lifelong happiness, his future entrepreneurial success, or whatever he was selling at the moment. Sometimes I’d be aware that Montgomery’s statements seemed a bit off, but I was distracted by his vivid descriptions or elegant turns of phrase. Or, there was enough truth in his words that I couldn’t say he was lying. Or, he had neglected to convey full and complete information, which I didn’t discover until much later.
Unlike when I was dealing with my ex-husband, I am able to reread, annotate, and analyze Dutton’s words. I find them to be full of holes, mischaracterizations, distortion and omission. This book is a disservice to society.
I feel sorry for anyone who reads The Wisdom of Psychopaths without a prior understanding of the disorder. Because of Dutton’s flashy writing and extensive references to scientific research, the uninformed reader might actually believe what he says.
Bird;
I must apologize because I have been following Lance Armstrong for years, first as a fan. However, his personality turned me off. I first bought into the cancer-survior thing until he won his first Tour de France and began his “I am clean” lie. I am an avid cyclist, even raced a bit on the amateur level. He ruined my sport and his very name triggers me!
I read many sworn depositions regarding various cases against him and anyone with a knowledge of Anti-social Personality Disorder would conclude he is a Psychopath. Former teammate Frankie Andreu provides a very accurate assessment of Lance Armstrong:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/video/2013/jan/16/lance-armstrong-lying-teammate-video
In another interview, Frankie says, “Lance lies even when he does not have to lie.”
There are many different stories here. However, “lying when not having to lie” is universal among all of them.
However, I very much agree with what OxDrover said. Actions are more important than a Checklist of traits, as not all Sociopaths exhibit all the traits. For example, my x-spath did not overtly display a big ego. At the age I met him (35), he did not show any strong sexual magnetism. He is a liar, but not an outrageous one.
He still is a Sociopath — the single most cold-hearted person, lacking any empathy, that I ever met.
Martha Stout reviewed the Kevin Dutton book, and her assessment was not kind:
http://www.tnr.com/book/review/wisdom-of-psychopaths-kevin-dutton#
WOW that last paragraph sums it up.
If you are entertained by well-written tales from a research psychologist who has used himself as a subject in a questionably pertinent neurological lab procedure, has toured Italy’s Museum of Serial Killers, and has visited some actual psychopaths at Broadmoor Hospital in England; and if you have an interest in reading about famously pathological criminals—such as the serial killer who inspired Hannibal Lecter—then perhaps you will enjoy Kevin Dutton’s book. If you want a scientifically informed argument that speaks meaningfully to the arresting question raised by its title, you will be disappointed. The book neither answers that question nor validly associates psychopaths with stoic saints and contemplative Buddhist monks. As a professional who has spent decades studying the bleak disorder of consciencelessness, I can say with a fair degree of certainty that there is no wisdom in psychopathy. There is only an irredeemable emptiness that should not and cannot be served up in “doses.”
Martha Stout, Ph.D., is the author of The Myth of Sanity, The Paranoia Switch, and The Sociopath Next Door.
Excellent review!! Thanks Tood.
Quote:
‘And that some psychopathic attributes—stoicism, the ability to regulate emotion, to live in the moment, to enter altered states of awareness, to be heroic, fearless, yes, even empathic—are also inherently spiritual in nature’
Stoicism – no. Narrow focus and inability to let go because of the desire to ‘win’, yes. Inability to learn long-term from regular punishment – yes. Ability to not show emotions – yes. And we all know why.
Ability to regulate emotion – cr*p. No emotions to start with, and the fleeting negative emotions (frustration, contempt, jealousy) definitely not regulated.
Altered states of awareness – huh? The predator focussing on its prey, maybe? Everyone of us can focus on a task that interests us, so what?
Heroic – ha! You have to have fear to be heroic.
Fearlessness – umm, there’s nothing emptiness in there. I don’t want to be empty. Fearlessnes when suppressing fear, now that would be worth having.
Empathy – yeah, right. Cold empathy.
Reading the book right now. He is VERY skilled with overlong words. And then, at the very end, there’s this:
Quote:
‘But the plain unvarnished truth is that there’s nothing remotely funny about them. They can be dangerous, destructive and deadly – and any serious writer has a duty of care to handle them as judiciously on the printed page as they would were they to encounter them in real life.’
So he’s having it both ways – a little footnote at the back to say be careful, they’re deadly, but a whole book, particularly the title, that glamorises them.
This certainly is a disservice to society.