PERPETRATOR PTSD:
THOUGHTS ABOUT UNRESOLVED GUILT
Adam Blatner
May 31,
2007
A few generations ago
it was common for fathers to whip and/or beat their sons—and sometimes
daughters—, and some considered it a duty and part of the role of the
father. Now such behavior would be viewed as being on or even over the
edge of a criminally prosecute-able criminal offense, yet once it was a
social norm.
Other
behaviors have similarly shifted in their status from socially
acceptable or tolerable to no longer respectable or acceptable:
–
acting on prejudice in hiring, allowing into universities or
postgraduate programs, selling homes, renting apartments, and so forth,
treating disrespectfully, etc.
–
sexual harassment
–
teasing, mocking, or bullying minorities of any kind
–driving dangerously and/or while drunk
... and
so forth.
In
committing such acts, now considered cruel or immoral, a perpetrator
converts the “other” from a “thou” (i.e., a person deserving of
sympathy if not empathy) to and “it.” What is generally less recognized
is that this de-humanization of others also takes its toll on the
perpetrator’s psyche. The part of the self that is naturally empathic,
sensitive, and caring must be encapsulated, the personality becomes a
little hardened, at least in some domains, and the soul begins to have
parts that have also become somewhat more “it”-like.
A
corollary of this dynamic is the natural emergence of shame and guilt,
often at an unconscious level. When shame and guilt can be worked
through consciously, atonement—at-one-ment— follows; however, the
circumstances are frequently lacking for such inner healing. (Shame is
when one hasn’t been able to live up to one’s own standards, while
guilt is an awareness that a choice has been made—one could have done
it differently, one was able—but a choice to give in to unworthy
temptations was made.)
Unconscious
guilt more often becomes repressed—not only not thought about, but that
the decision to not think about it has also been buried, the whole
event has been “forgotten,” as if it never happened. This tension in
the psyche is compensated for by the individual directing his mind to
the good things he does, the kindnesses, or at least the good
intentions. It’s surprising how effective this dynamic is even in what
might be judged by others as relatively obvious villains.
(Occasionally, villains celebrate their wickedness, but that’s a
minority. The majority of people are otherwise “normal,” seemingly good
folks, who lapse into circumstances where the temptations to be cruel
become too tempting. This is what Hannah Arendt meant by the term, “the
banality of evil.”)
What
needs to be emphasized, though, is that such low-grade sinning has a
price: People become not only a bit hardened, but in a subtle way,
burdened. They feel heavier, more inhibited and stiff.
Compartmentalization is a kind of splitting, and leads to a life of
in-authenticity. The free flow of love for self and others is
inhibited, and the experience of shame and guilt also induce a kind of
inhibition to vitality. This heaviness is a sub-clinical form of PTSD,
I suggest, the trauma of being a perpetrator, of discovering a capacity
for unfeelingness and cruelty that we intuitively would clearly not
want anyone to do to us! In place of living the golden rule deeply, we
become lined with a figurative lead.
One
escape is through intoxication—and the co-morbidity of drug and alcohol
use applies not only to victims, but also perpetrators. (Of course,
having been a victim often feeds the rationalizations necessary to
release cruelty to others, thus reinforcing the vicious cycle!)
Another
escape is into piety. This would be a good thing if the piety opened
the mind and heart to a true process of atonement. That’s what the
Twelve Step tradition seeks to promote. Alas, for many, the claiming of
piety, the first step or two, seems to be supported by many religions
that don’t know themselves—or at least most clergy don’t seem to---how
to take the process through its full psycho-social completion.
Religion,
it should be realized, can be used in a fairly superficial way. A
belief in the doctrine of forgiveness of sins, if not fully applied,
can permit a continued encapsulation of the guilt-perpetrator complex.
What is needed is a socially-agreed-upon ritual of confession,
authentic repentance (i.e., yes I did it, I feel sorry, and I want to
avoid temptations to do it again now that I’m more aware of the
behavior and its consequences), and atonement (i.e, at-one-ment with
higher power, holistic self, and social community), and a ritual or
process that seems workable.
Without
such a recognizable process of social and spiritual healing, bringing
the full awareness of the perpetration to consciousness would be
re-traumatizing. People with perpetrator guilt cannot tolerate the
overwhelming feelings of shame, humiliation, guilt, and anticipated
social rejection and isolation. They should not be expected to manage
this process of healing alone. Yet it is possible to create and apply
such processes, mixing elements of religion and group psychotherapy.
(Nor does this require any specific religion, but rather can happen
even with a more general spirituality or philosophy that addresses the
felt experience of meaning in life.)
The
Social Context of Evil
In a
recently published book by the psychologist Philip Zimbardo (2007), The Lucifer Effect, some
understanding is offered about how good people turn evil. Social
structures that provide authority and support for being a “team
player,” demonstrating efficiency, initiative and competence, and the
like can form in the service of nefarious ends. It is quite possible to
build into the system the demonization of the “other,” the scapegoats
or “enemy.” In Hitler’s Germany, the “other” were described as those
who undermined the vitality of the master race, and thus worthy of
denigration, torture, and destruction. The Tutsi tribe were similarly
targeted in the tragedy of Rwanda in the 1990s, and other examples
sadly abound. The author included also the conditions at the Abu Gharib
prison in Baghdad, operated by the otherwise seemingly idealistic
American troops.
When the
myth of strength is paired with the need to be “tough,” and this in
turn edges on the sadistic, which happens not infrequently in military
training contexts, it isn’t difficult to rationalize what only later
might be judged as slipping over the edge. That this has been common
was reinforced by a friend who said that in the Navy, being sent to the
brig was more than an act of mere imprisonment. The Marine guards were
known to be sadistic, and they would beat up prisoners—akin to the
situation portrayed in the movie, From Here to Eternity —fairly
regularly.
There
seemed to be a gentleman’s agreement not to call the officers in charge
of the brig, or their superiors to account for this violation of the
Constitution’s Bill of Rights—the Eighth Amendment forbidding “cruel
and unusual punishment.” Anyone adjudged wicked enough to be in the
brig was informally assumed to be deserving of punishment above and
beyond the official act of imprisonment. Alas, this situation continues
endemically throughout our prison system (and do not call it
“corrections”!).
Implications
One of
the shifts in social norms has been the civil rights movement—with its
roots in abolitionism, and also the general complex of free-thinking
beginning over three centuries ago that questioned the morality of
monarchy and aristocracy, the combining of church and state, the
institutional persecutions of alternative religions, quasi-slavery
(e.g., the serfs of Eastern Europe), the use of torture as a rational
instrument for justice, and so forth. Alas, many of these battles are
still being fought, sometimes in more covert ways.
Part of
this is a shift in the underlying social and philosophical attitudes
towards authority. If a higher authority commands what is felt to be
sinful, what are the subordinate’s responsibilities? What if failure to
follow orders, or just being lukewarm in following them, entails a
danger of severe consequences? One can be found to be less-than
competent, not a team player, and as a result, promotions become
stalled, or one may be assigned to a far more onerous or dangerous
position. It can be let known that bullying the non-team-player will
have no negative consequences, and this releases the inherent sadism of
peers. (This was the theory of being in the stocks: It wasn’t just
being subtly imprisoned! Community members and cruel children could and
did attack, throw rocks and feces, mock and torment the helpless
victim-criminal!) It doesn’t have to be direct punishment. People
understand the dangers in bucking an authoritarian system.
Who
Are the Terrorists?
Combine
this system with another predicament: The government-in-charge must
show that it is making progress against the insurgents. To that end,
they need “numbers.” If it can be shown that there has been an increase
in arrests, the fine points of whether or not someone is guilty can be
waived. After all, this is war, and the enemy are evil, capable of
deceit. Torture is not out of the question and can be—and, alas, has
been—rationalized and authorized.
Now
imagine an innocent man whose house or goods or wife is desired by a
covetous neighbor. Simply lying, “informing” on this man, is easy in
such a system. The authorities seek numbers. The highest authority,
Dick Cheney, has announced that if there’s a 1% chance of the accused
being a terrorist, then actions should assume that is valid. Hey, it’s
not that hard to play those probabilities. Two per cent, one-half a
percent, who can say? And the government authorities, their police and
army, need to prove their competence by having “numbers.” (The
horror of the criterion of the “body count” in the Vietnam war may be
here recalled. Proof of whether the body was or was not innocent was
generously overlooked.)
If I
lived in Iraq, I would live in terror not only of the sectarian
violence, but also of the possibility—nay, the probability—that I or
some friend or relative may be picked up on a “sweep” of suspects.
(Note the word, suspect. Anyone can be a suspect; you could be a
suspect. Round up the usual suspects.) We might well be tortured.
We would probably be at least roughed up or beaten. We might well
suffer disability, mixed with a sense of not knowing how long this
imprisonment may last, not having access to help. Recent news (e.g.,
Newsweek, May, 2007) reports this very situation, along with another
nasty twist: There’s also the crypto-kidnaping process implied when the
police require a bribe for release. The motive for arrest then becomes
not only the job performance of the police, but also their or their
superior’s monetary benefits. In other words, the system is corrupt at
its core. Who then are the terrorists?
Implications
A new
morality is needed: We need to ask for accountability from the top
down, and to distrust those even at the top. This applies to all
authority systems. The legal criterion used in criminal investigations
is “cui bono?”—Latin for “Who Benefits?” We need to look for the
beneficiaries of various policies—past their rationalizations. Who
cleans up, who gets more power, whose cronies can pick up
non-negotiated contracts?
The
dynamic mentioned earlier on the individual level applies also on the
systems level. Groups in power, poltical parties, city councils, and so
forth can and do disguise their corruption by engaging in what is sold
as noble actions. Hitler could be very nice to some people, and other
villains have also shown their capacity for being sweet, generous,
forgiving, and in other ways virtuous in a variety of contexts. (But in
the other contexts—watch out!) Add to this the power of claimed good
intentions and the mythic power of piety. Bring in claims of religious
faith and it becomes difficult to criticize, because how could a
seemingly God-fearing person commit evil? Thus does the power of
overgeneralization, idealization, and other rhetorical or propaganda
devices lead to credulity and acceptance.
The
solution is to teach about propaganda, semantics, cultural
manipulation, the evil that higher ups can perpetrate, as well as good
ol’ boys, and ordinary folks. Indeed, cultural rhetoric is often
adopted by the criminals and welfare cheats as a rationalization of
their villainy! Sloppy thinking and the temptation to not make trouble
adds to all this.
More
insidious is the act not only of subtle perpetration of cruelty, but of
knowing about or witnessing such cruelty by bullies and not doing
anything about it. This is doubly rampant, and yet it, too, leads to
perpetrator PTSD and guilt, even though it is milder and easier to
rationalize. The result is a kind of hardening, a numbness, and a
slight drain of vitality and full humanity.
We need
to recognize that we all pay a price as a community by this prevalent
laziness of mind mixed with a low-grade cowardice. I’m not saying that
everyone should become fiercely socially active, but neither can we
escape the price paid for lapsing into complacency. Drawing from a
seemingly different context—eating meat—the Zen-espousing philosopher,
Alan Watts did not insist on vegetarianism. He did suggest, though,
that if we are to eat meat, if we are to murder sentient animals for
our sustenance, we should at least open to the consciousness that this
was a living creature that was sacrificed for our benefit, and
acknowledge this fact, own and contain the guilt that accompanies this
consciousness.
People
can contain guilt, seek to find ways of reducing evil in the world,
forgive each other and themselves, but only if the issues are brought
into consciousness. Otherwise, the subtle trauma of our acts as
perpetrators or as those who witness or perpetrate even minor cruelties
will numb our souls. Seeking wholeness, we need to pay the price of
consciousness.
Another
way to do this is to recognize that we have many parts, we play many
parts. Some parts of us hold higher ideals than can be sustained or
enacted by other parts. How to accept our imperfection, our internal
contradictions, without yet slipping into complacence?
First, we
need to cultivate a spiritual path that keeps this reality of humanity
in mind, our un-finished-ness as a species, our un-finished process of
maturation even through adulthood. We need to recognize the proper use
of faith, not as a sop to our guilty conscience, but as an aid to an
activity of atonement. We need to stretch a little, in our imagination,
in our self-discipline, in our willingness to extend ourselves, give a
bit more, and so forth. Beyond that, we need to forgive ourselves for
not being able to tolerate the overload of stretching “too much,” and
find some cosmic symbol system that can offer solace and support in our
learning to accept ourselves. There’s a balance.
Mix that
then with a process that’s part therapy, part confession, part group
support and spiritual perspective, and part a creative working-through
of finding some rational or symbolic way to realistically make amends
for our weaknesses. I draw from the Twelve Step traditions in this
formulation, and imagine some part of it as having far more application
in life than had been previously appreciated.
Summary
In
numerous ways, many people have participated in or allowed to happen
many different kinds of cruelty, the perpetration of un-ethical
behavior. Unconsciously, these episodes evoke guilt and, unless there
be some culturally-agreed-upon process for atonement, they generate
subtle dynamics of compartmentalization and hardening—the opposite of
authenticity and integration.
Recognizing
the pervasiveness of this dynamic and also seeking to understand its
causes, we can learn more about and challenge artificial authority
structures and norms. Learning about propaganda and social manipulation
(i.e., rhetoric), we can introduce increasing amounts of rational
activity into contexts that were enacted mythically, often feeding
illusions of strength, greed, power, stability, honor, and other
questionable subconscious goals.
As much
as I disagree with many aspects of Freudian psychology, I do agree with
one of Freud’s goals, paraphrased as: to make conscious that which had
previously been unconscious.
References:
Zimbardo,
P. (2007). The Lucifer effect:
understanding how good people turn evil. New York: Random House.
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Comments welcome. Email author at
adam@blatner.com