but they does it anywai.Verse 32 refers to a distinction that Stout makes between
moral reasoning (a capacity not eliminated by sociopathy) and conscience. It's not that a sociopath is unaware of the evil they do — it's that they simply do not care, and they are able to construct elaborate rationalizations for their actions.
We make these individuals invisible to ourselves by our tacit (but erroneous) assumption that everyone has a conscience. What's more interesting is that sociopaths know that they are different. Furthermore, they know that we are unable to distinguish between someone with a conscience and their well-practiced mimicry.
Alas, even if we eschew this tacit assumption, we still cannot "see within the hearts of men," as it were. Nevertheless, like subatomic particles and black holes, they can be detected by indirect observation: by the trail of human debris behind them, a conspicuous absence of successful long-term friendships or relationships, and other indicators summarized in the book's introduction:
One of the more frequently observed of these traits is a glib and superficial charm that allows the true sociopath to seduce other people, figuratively or literally — a kind of glow or charisma that, initially, can make the sociopath seem more charming or more interesting than most of the normal people around him. He or she is more spontaneous, or more intense, or somehow more “complex,” or sexier, or more entertaining than everyone else. Sometimes this “sociopathic charisma” is accompanied by a grandiose sense of self-worth that may be compelling at first, but upon closer inspection may seem odd or perhaps laughable.
In addition, sociopaths have a greater than normal need for stimulation, which results in their taking frequent social, physical, financial, or legal risks. Characteristically, they can charm others into attempting dangerous ventures with them, and as a group they are known for their pathological lying and conning, and their parasitic relationships with “friends.” Regardless of how educated or highly placed as adults, they may have a history of early behavior problems, sometimes including drug use or recorded juvenile delinquency, and always including a failure to acknowledge responsibility for any problems that occurred.
And sociopaths are noted especially for their shallowness of emotion, the hollow and transient nature of any affectionate feelings they may claim to have, a certain breathtaking callousness. They have no trace of empathy and no genuine interest in bonding emotionally with a mate. Once the surface charm is scraped off, their marriages are loveless, one-sided, and almost always short-term. If a marriage partner has any value to the sociopath, it is because the partner is viewed as a possession, one that the sociopath may feel angry to lose, but never sad or accountable.
(I imagine that one could generalize "possession" to "resource" in that last sentence.)
The introduction, which can be read
in abridged form here, begins by having you imagine that you are the 1 in 25 with this condition: how liberating would it be to have "no feelings of guilt or remorse no matter what you do," combined with "the ability to conceal from other people that your psychological makeup is radically different from theirs?" What sort of life would you live?
That sets the stage for a fascinating and enlightening journey through the sociopathic mind.
Fortunately, Stout does not waste much time on the extreme cases — like notorious serial killers who have already been over-glorified in our culture — and instead gives several cases of more mundane sociopaths living freely among us. This is, after all, the rule and not the exception. The vast majority of them — while they may (or may not) have elaborately planned a thrill-kill down to the selection of a victim and how to dispose of the body — they, on average, choose to exploit people in less heinous ways. It is, after all, too easy to calculate the social cost of having acted on such impulses.
Before my friend
Jonathan turned me on to Stout's book, I was already interested in the related matter of Narcissistic Personality Disorder (
NPD), and had been wondering how to balance its DSM-IV
diagnostic criteria with that of Antisocial Personality Disorder (
APD), and similarly with the ICD-10 diagnostic criteria for Dissocial Personality Disorder (
DPD) — all of which seem to have a fair amount of overlap.
The Sociopath Next Door did no more to illuminate the answer to this question than Wikipedia
does here, but this week's popular article about
how bad boys have more sexual partners and more sex in general (you don't say) did include the fascinating new jargon that I mentioned at the outset: dark triad.
It turns out that this is an umbrella term for a cluster of personality traits that professionals sometimes
study together: Narcissism, Psychopathy, and Machiavellianism. (Sociopathy, says Stout, is psychopathy plus superficial charm & charisma.) Whoa, back up:
Machiavellianism!? Yes, indeed that is an accepted term in psychology. As Jonathan put it: "Who knew?"
If you google for NPD and sociopathy, you will encounter hundreds of stories by individuals struggling to make some sense out of the upheaval caused by a narcissistic and/or conscience-less former lover. Perhaps the term "dark triad", and its implication that even the professionals entertain the hypothesis that these traits are related, can do something to assuage their desire to arrive at an accurate armchair diagnosis.
If you search further, you will even find an occasional post from a self-described sociopath, like
this one on Lauren Cahn's blog, who writes under the pseudonym "Asyn":
We as sociopaths, while not all serial killers like Manson and Bundy, have no guilt, remorse or otherwise care to what harm we cause others as long as it fills the need at the time. It is my opinion that sociopaths are the closest thing to true evil that humanity can create. Sure, we don't all turn out evil, but to be evil it's pretty much a prerequisite.
I heard a line today said by another person that sums it up nicely. "I could lose my mother or a pencil and feel the same." Its the horrible truth. I have children, but I know that if something was to happen to them, I would be over it in a few days. I hate it some days. Some days I feel like a monster, and then other days, I love it. Its like a free pass to get what you want. To bend people and manipulate to get what you want with no resistance.
Wanna know the really scary part. Only one person knows I am like this. Everyone thinks I'm normal and I can summon pity for me at the drop of a hat. I've had many people tell me that more people should be like me. I could only imagine the horror of that reality.
If that grabbed you, then you may also want to read
holehearted's post on LoveFraud, which is far too long to quote, but gives a bizarre glimpse into what it's like for a sociopath to at least appear to regret their wake of destruction — though in a way still replete with rationalization.
The Sociopath Next Door is worth reading even if you're only curious to uncloak and understand this invisible minority, but Stout also has a section of advice for people who have a four-percenter in their life. Sadly, the most effective course of action is to maintain a safe distance.
Fortunately, this is easy to accomplish if you can arrange it so that you're no longer useful to them.
If you've been paying attention, you may recall that I've been riding the same, decrepit hybrid for too long — that I'm way overdue to get myself some new wheels. 
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