Why people kill people
A controversial new book by a Pulitzer Prize-winning author explores the origins of violence
by Jason Gay
When violence occurs, we want answers. Whether it's Mark Barton's shooting
rampage in Atlanta, Cary Stayner's brutal murders in Yosemite National Park, or
Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold's massacre at Columbine High School, horrific
criminal acts have the ability to repel and fascinate us at the same time. We
demand immediate explanations and hunt for scapegoats. Firebrands clamor to
control television, film, and the Internet. Gun crackdowns are considered and
contested. And even though the reality is that these horrors are statistically
rare -- nationally, violent crime has dropped precipitously over the past
decade -- the perception is often that things are spinning dangerously out of
control.
At the heart of this fear is a search for closure. Unless we know what causes
an act of violence, it is hard to put it behind us. But the origin of criminal
violence has been one of our most perplexing mysteries. To date, no theory or
statistical sample has yielded a conclusive explanation of why some people
assault, maim, rape, and murder.
A new book by Richard Rhodes, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The
Making of the Atomic Bomb and 16 other books, attempts to do just that.
Titled Why They Kill: The Discoveries of a Maverick Criminologist
(Knopf), the book chronicles the life of criminology professor Lonnie Athens,
who, after years of interviewing violent offenders, came to believe that
serious violent behavior is almost always the byproduct of a single specific
developmental pattern -- first, childhood brutalization and subjugation; then
learning that violence can bring respect; next, achieving respect through
violence; and, lastly, regular criminal violence.
Though many people have long suspected links between child abuse and adult
violence, Athens's theory, called "violentization," largely discounts other
factors such as class, violent media, and mental illness. The theory is
controversial, to say the least. It has been ridiculed and rejected by many in
the sociology and criminology establishments who consider Athens's research to
be flimsy compared to the databases and crime reports usually used for analyses
of violent behavior. But Athens has an advocate in Richard Rhodes, who spent
several years investigating and testing the violentization theory and believes
that the Virginia-raised Greek-American has happened upon the biggest
breakthrough yet in understanding the violent criminal mind. Rhodes spoke to
the Phoenix this week from his home in Connecticut.
Q: Every time there is a high-profile violent crime, people
naturally want to put a reason behind the action. In Why They Kill, you
advocate a little-known theory that serious violent behavior is an intimate
multistage process, starting with child abuse, which leads to belligerency,
occasional violent episodes, and, later, pathological violence. How did you
decide this theory was worth writing about?
A: I have spent most of my adult life writing about violence of one
form or another. Even though the subject matter of my [books] has been as
diverse as the Donner Party and the hydrogen bomb, all of those subjects
interested me because of the central questions of "How do people get this way?"
and, when you're subjected to violent people, "How do you survive that?" And [I
was interested] because of my own childhood, because my stepmother was a
violent individual. So I really was primed, and I was never comfortable with
all of these theories that I had encountered over the years.
One of the great virtues of Lonnie Athens's work is that it isn't mystified.
He doesn't invent strange dynamic forces, as Freud does. He doesn't invoke
broad social trends that couldn't possibly explain violence because they leave
out most of the people who experience those trends. He doesn't invoke race,
testosterone, or genetics. All of these theories don't quite make sense. What
Athens did find is something that I think anyone who's been around violence has
an immediate shock of recognition about. I did. My wife did. The people I've
since told about Athens's work, by and large, unless they are professionals who
are invested in a theory, immediately say, "Oh yeah, sure."
Q: What's also different about Athens's violentization theory is
that it's based on in-depth interviews with a relatively small number of
criminals, versus the analysis of crime and behavioral statistics. Some people
dispute Athens's work for this reason, but you argue otherwise.
Why?
A: Well, I think what's so valuable about Lonnie Athens's work is that
he actually talked with violent people. If you look at most of the sociological
and criminological work being done -- you read, for example, that television
causes violence -- they are correlational studies done on databases of various
kinds. Or they are correlational studies done with laboratory experiments. In
the case of the so-called visual-video-media causes of violence, correlational
studies by definition don't provide causal explanations. All they provide is
variations and various correlations. And I'm particularly struck by how trivial
[these studies] are. What they actually look at is something they call
aggression, which doesn't have anything to do with violence. We all are
aggressive from time to time -- we feel more angry, feel more hostile,
whatever. They looked at aggression either by asking questions of people after
they've been exposed to violent media, or by looking at behavior on the
playground later, none of which has anything to do with serious violence, as
far as I can see.
Q: We do want quick answers, however. In the aftermath of Mark
Barton's shooting rampage, a lot of attention was paid to the fact that he was
a day trader, and how these big financial losses may have led him to go and
kill people. But I was struck by a passage in Barton's suicide note, on why he
killed his son: "The fears of the father are transferred to the son. It was
from my father to me and me to my son. He already had it. And now to be left
alone, I had to take him with me." That's essentially the pattern of
brutalization that Athens describes, and what you're writing about here.
A: Obviously, we can at least guess that what he means by that
is that his father was his brutalizer. We don't know for sure, but there's a
hint in that direction.
What I was struck by were these ridiculous love notes [Barton] left on the
bodies of people he had beaten to death with hammers. In the big note, he was
quite clear: "I killed Leigh Ann because she was one of the main reasons for my
demise." So clearly he was angry at her. And I think in the case of the two
children, despite his protestations of how much he loved them and wanted to
protect them, the fact is, once he killed her, they were in the way. I think
one can describe their killings clearly as "frustrative," to use Athens's term.
It reminded me of the case of Perry Smith in In Cold Blood, where once
he killed Mr. Clutter, he really couldn't leave the rest of the family behind
because they had identified him.
Q: But even if Athens's violentization theory is dead-on, it's very
rare that we get a full portrait of a criminal's life, especially if the
criminal commits suicide. It's going to be difficult to convince people not to
look for outside answers. For example, we know very little about Eric Harris's
and Dylan Klebold's childhoods. We do, however, know they both listened to
Marilyn Manson records.
A: As do hundreds of thousands of other children who will grow
up to be doctors and lawyers, and, God help us, politicians. Those reasons are
always so glib and easy to say, and yet as soon as you look at the numbers of
people who have been exposed to the same thing, you realize that it's not
remotely plausible as an explanation [for violence].
My favorite example with media violence in general is the information in
[Why They Kill] about medieval Europe. Medieval Europe was much more
violent than today's Europe, and the only media they had then was when they
went to their cathedrals on Sunday mornings. Even more dramatically, the
decline in violence in Europe over the past 500 years paralleled the
development of public executions. So at the very time when people were clearly
being exposed to the most dramatic sort of visual presentation of violence --
people being drawn and quartered and burned at the stake and so forth --
violence was declining.
I think [film director] Rob Reiner very wisely commented on that with the
Columbine killings. Movies and television from America go all over the world,
but the homicide rates, the violent crime rates, are very different everywhere
else.
I remember vividly as a child growing up in the 1940s that comic books, which
were then quite violent, were considered to be the reason our brains were going
to be damaged. Comic books were essentially emasculated in the early '50s for
that reason, and obviously that didn't stop violence in young people.
Q: Not all of these cultural scapegoats are wrong-headed, though.
For example, the fact that guns are so accessible clearly seems to be a factor
in recent outbreaks of violence.
A: Guns are a factor. Take, for example, the kids in [the
1998 school shooting in] Arkansas. I don't think that an 11-year-old and a
13-year-old could possibly have taken out so many people had they not had
access to semi-automatic rifles. What guns do is make it possible for kids in
their initial violent performance -- which at their age, at their size,
whatever strength they have, might well not even succeed -- it makes it
possible for them to accomplish mass murders the first time out. That's
something that you wouldn't even see successfully in an adult [without a gun].
So it clearly does have an influence on the scale of destructiveness of people
who are approaching and trying out violence.
Q: Athens's theory also casts doubt on the use of psychiatry in
explaining criminal behavior, something that is commonplace in courtroom trials
today.
A: If there are so-called psychiatric reasons, we let some
people off who have committed violent crimes because they are supposedly
mentally ill. Psychiatry has conflated violence with mental illness, even
though there's no connection between the two. They get conflated in the
courtroom, and people who quite correctly should go to jail end up going to a
mental hospital, and then there's the question of whether they'll be released,
whether we're talking about [John Hinckley, who shot Ronald Reagan], or
whatever.
I think it's important to remember that people become violent by choice. Even
though they have been brutalized, a lot of us have been brutalized. They
nevertheless face decisions as a result of those experiences. There were
choices. So [mental illnesses] shouldn't necessarily be invoked in the
courtroom as an exculpatory reason why people shouldn't go through the legal
system.
Q: You also take issue with the common perception that good people
will snap and commit acts of violence. According to Athens, no one really
snaps.
A: I think people who aren't violent imagine themselves snapping, or
certainly recognize times when they find themselves suddenly very angry. But
the real message of Athens's work is that violent people aren't any different
from the rest of us in their decision-making process, in their process of
interpreting situations. They get angry, they get frightened, they get
frustrated, they feel hatred. But at that point, their interpretation of what
to do about those feelings is that those are appropriate times to use serious
violence. That's where they differ. That's so far down the road that I think
people understandably would like some explanation that they can comprehend.
Often people aren't even aware of how they would go about being violent. People
just simply don't have any experience in that.
Q: One famous case of so-called snapping was that of boxer Mike
Tyson, when he bit part of Evander Holyfield's ear off in a boxing
match.
A: Tyson adds to that confusion because he's had a lot of
experience with the usual psychiatric explanations of violence. The day after
he bit off the top of Holyfield's ear, he was telling the media, "I snapped."
But right after the fight -- I was watching the fight and watched him being
interviewed [later] and wrote it down -- he was very clear about what he was
doing. The guy [Holyfield] wasn't playing by the rules, so he wasn't going to
play by those rules, either. He went right to street rules.
Q: You also spend an entire chapter on Lee Harvey Oswald, using
Athens's theory to try to demonstrate that, despite his and other people's
protests, that he was quite capable of killing President Kennedy.
A: I've never believed there was a conspiracy to shoot John Kennedy.
I've believed that ever since I first followed the case, and certainly since
I've looked at the records since then. But that isn't even necessary to make
the point. First of all, I don't think anyone disputes -- anyone who does must
have really fallen off the edge -- that it was the rifle that this man bought,
that this man owned, that was found where he was in the Texas school
depository, that provided at least two of the bullets that hit John Kennedy and
the governor. So whatever else is true, it seems to be pretty indisputable that
he was involved. Beyond that, I don't think anyone's disputed that he took a
shot at General Walker. I don't think anyone has disputed that he repeatedly
raped his wife, that he shot the policeman. But let's make it clear that
whatever else is true about the larger issue of who was involved in John F.
Kennedy's assassination, Oswald was someone who was capable of [it], based on
the record of his past. That record has never been examined with violentization
in mind.
Q: What was Athens's reaction when you told him you were interested
in writing a book on his work? After all, this is an academic whose career,
until recently, had experienced more valleys than peaks. He was used to
rejection. And then you call up and say you want to tell his life's
story.
A: He was shocked. And then I said, "Hey, let's get together for
dinner." He and his wife and my wife and I met for dinner in the Village in New
York, and he was wary. I think he really wasn't sure what it was that I wanted
to do. As it turned out, for a long time afterward -- even though we got to
know each other, and spent days in interviews and traveled to Richmond and all
the things that went into the book -- it's really clear to me now that, for
months and months, he really didn't trust [me]. He thought I was going to steal
his stuff. He thought maybe I wanted to write some sort of trashy popular book.
There were clues along the way that there was some confusion about that. But it
wasn't really clear to me until we really hashed it out in some fairly angry
discussions that he didn't trust me. Now I think he does. He's seen the book,
and except for the biographical part -- of course, no one ever likes someone
else's version of their life -- he's very happy that I wrote the book.
Q: What is Athens like as a person? You spend a substantial part of
Why They Kill talking about the harrowing violence he experienced as a
child. What was it like to get him to open up?
A: He's a very authentic human being. You can't spend more than a few
hours with him without understanding that he's honest and up-front. When I went
down to his home to tape the interviews [for the autobiographical part of the
book], we spent two days -- eight-hour days -- [recording] it. It was obviously
an immensely painful experience. How could it not be? I kept firing question
after question. He had organized everything; he knew, obviously, how people do
interviews, he had documents in hand, he started at the beginning and didn't
deviate from the chronology, and that's very hard to do. And at the end of that
time I certainly left with the very clear conviction that I made the right
decision.
You know, I left my publisher -- I left Simon and Schuster -- because they
weren't enthusiastic about this book. I had been with Simon and Schuster for 17
years. But I really did believe in this book. I left them and took the risk of
going and finding another publisher, and did find Knopf, which I'm very happy
with.
Q: Given your experiences with violence as a child [Rhodes and his
brother were eventually removed from their abusive stepmother and sent to live
in a private home for boys], you must have considered your own potential for
violence -- moments when, if not for certain individuals, your life could have
gone in a different direction.
A: I think my brother was that individual. But I would stress that once
you've been through the first part of violentization, the other parts are
always potentially down the road. I went through a period as a young husband,
in my early 30s, when I was starting to become violent again. I was drinking, I
was in a difficult marriage, and some violent behavior started to re-emerge. I
realize it now; I didn't realize it at the time. My response then, because I
had enough background to know what choices there were, was to start
psychotherapy. And I went through eight years of it. And when that was done,
those problems were solved. So it isn't just at one point in your life.
Q: How much do you think your book will advance Athens's
violentization theory?
A: I just don't know. One has to hope that enough people will recognize
that by finding the real causal process [for violence], Athens has also found
the way to prevent it, or interrupt it. If people understand that, I think it's
going to be possible to prevent school shootings, it's going to be possible to
prevent a lot of violence. Obviously, that's going to be a major process.
You're talking about the family, basically.
You can't say it's guns and you can't say it's television and you can't say
there aren't enough good Christians in America. You really finally do have to
say it's because people are goddamned beating their children in a society that
has civilized itself in terms of the larger society, and has sequestered
violence in state organs, such as the police and the army, that do a pretty
good job of controlling [violence] in some areas of our lives. But the family
is still private, and, in a sense, no one is protected. People either learn to
be violent, or to not treat each other that way.
Jason Gay can be reached at jgay[a]phx.com.