The psychology of serial killers: insights from Mindhunter
exploring the relationship between identity and desire | John Douglas
I’ve been watching the Netflix show (again) Mindhunter and reading the book it’s based on by the FBI profiler, John E. Douglas, Mindhunter: Inside the FBI’s Elite Serial Crime Unit.
I was reading and I came across a quote that really struck something in me…
"Detectives and crime-scene analysts have to take a bunch of disparate and seemingly unrelated clues and make them into a coherent narrative, so storytelling ability is an important talent.” — John Douglas, Mindhunter.
So, Douglas extensively studied human behavior in this context, delving into evolutionary psychology, the unfolding of crimes, and the selection process of a serial killer's victims. Utilizing available evidence, profilers construct narratives to rationalize these actions. However, the assumption presupposes that the subject being analyzed possesses an understanding or narrative driving their behavior. By probing them, we inadvertently steer them towards a narrative that further complements the already fragmented one the serial killer likely maintains.
Unable to conduct experiments to precisely decipher a serial killer's motives and thought processes, we are left to interpret the actions of others, acknowledging that we, too, are subjects tasked with this interpretation.
I write this from the position of being a subject. I cannot escape the reality of being a subject.
You are reading this from the position of being a subject. You cannot escape the reality of being a subject.
Douglas also wrote:
“Probably the most crucial single factor on the development of a serial rapist or killer is the role of fantasy.”
And in this passage, he discusses the the Co-ed killer Ed Kemper…
“Kemper’s fantasies developed early, and they all involved the relationship between sex and death. The game he made his sister play with him involved binding him to a chair as if he were in the gas chamber. His sexual fantasies involving others ended with the partner’s death and dismemberment. Because of his feelings of inadequacy, Kemper didn’t feel comfortable with normal boy-girl relationships. He didn’t think any girl would have him. So in his own mind, he compensated. He had to completely possess his imagined partner, and that meant ultimately possessing her life. “Alive, they were distant, not sharing with me,” he explained in a confession introduced in court.”
“On another level, Kemper’s overriding fantasy was to rid himself of his domineering, abusive mother, and everything he did as a killer can be analyzed in that context. Please don’t get me wrong; this in no way excuses what he did. Everything in my background and experience tells me that people are responsible for what they do. But in my opinion, Ed Kemper is an example of someone not born a serial killer but manufactured as one. Would he have had the same murderous fantasies had he had a more stable and nurturing home life? Who knows? But would he have acted on them in the same fashion had he not had this incredible rage against the dominant female personality in his life? I don’t think so—because the entire progress of Kemper’s career as a killer can be seen as an attempt to get back at dear old Mom. When he finally worked himself up to that final act, the drama was played out.”
I bring this up to potentially underscore the influence external factors play in our interpretations and our inclination to construct narratives for others’ actions, sometimes even prompting them to articulate a narrative for us.
A messed up sadistic fantasy on top of another messed up sadistic fantasy.
Did Kemper commit his act due to issues with their mother? It almost certainly played a vital role. Yet I wonder about the plausibility that the serial killer framed their mother as a motive because it more neatly aligned with the personal narrative they’ve constructed and their subjective relationship with it.
Someone like Kemper wishes to objectify themselves and their identity. This fits into their need for some form of domination and control.
“Manipulation. Domination. Control. These are the three watchwords of violent serial offenders.” — Douglas
In the most extreme sense, I envision that someone like Kemper believed he constructed a narrative, on some conscious and unconscious level, that filled some ambiguous inner desire, one steeped full of hateful and angered rage.
This was an identity built from a need for domination and control. A narrative that he ultimately wished to control in his internal world, which inevitably included needing the external world to validate that narrative as well.
And of course, him being a psychopath allowed him to become fully consumed by the ‘I’ in his narrative. Thus, showing no true remorse for those he murdered.
Just imagine this psychological process happening to us on a much smaller scale with far less murder…
We all experience a pull, a drive, and a desire that perhaps causes some discomfort, pain, and/or suffering. So, consider the cliche of the male midlife crisis, where individuals grapple with inner unease regarding their desires, constructing a narrative and fantasy they believe will either alleviate their turmoil or help them process it in some way. They see a Harley Davidson ad. This ad catches their eye. Their narrative begins forming. Maybe a motorcycle will be the solution to their prayers. They join a biker club. They embark on motorcycle trips. They acquire another motorcycle. They splurge and decide to buy a new leather jacket. More, more, and more!
The midlife biker is building a narrative with their identity becoming intertwined with this newfound passion.
It all stemmed from a narrative born out of potential inner turmoil that, at its core, was ultimately our endless desire, one we are always attempting to interpret as subjects.
I suppose to express what I'm attempting to say in oversimplified terms: narratives protect and regulate our identity. So, sometimes we act without fully understanding why we act; we fail to ask ourselves. Then, after the fact, we construct some narrative to explain the reasons behind our actions.
This regulates our identity and ultimately, in some sense, feeds our own fantasy on varying levels of scale.
In the case of John Douglas, his FBI profiling is about building a narrative of a crime the same way an author builds a story. They gather bits of evidence and try to fit them into a logical sequence to figure out the “plot” of the crime. This process isn’t simply about cold, hard facts; it’s about understanding the human fantasy, story, and sense of identity behind the crime.
From the narratives we construct and become deeply entrenched in, around which we shape our identity, we also permit these stories to potentially dictate our future actions. It forms a cycle of desire, stemming from the interplay between the internal and external, which is then interpreted through the same interplay. In this cycle, it is the relationship and narrative itself that propels forward the cycle of desire.
Altering desire entails a radical departure from traditional narratives that confine desire within the bounds of lack and repression. We must see the urge for action that comes from desire, by also recognizing the fragmented and uncertain identity that ultimately becomes built by this relationship.
Could this, in some sense, open pathways to reconfigure the structures that mediate our relationship with the internal and external, creating a more liberated and dynamic understanding of desire’s role in shaping our identities and societies?
This is the endless interplay we live with. Our identities emerge from the uncertain gaps between subjects, those subjects being all of us.
And maybe this can eventually move us away from becoming consumed by the most horrifically violent narratives.
So, how do we change our narrative?
We must transform our desire.
But how do we transform desire?
We must examine the endless evolving structures that ultimately create and destroy the relationship between the two (narrative and desire).
“You cannot be anything if you are not recognized as something; in this way your being becomes dependent on the regard of somebody else. You may be confirmed, or you may be disconfirmed, and if the latter is the case, often enough and pervasively enough, you simply cease to exist as a person.” David Smail, Illusion and Reality.
Stay multiple. Stay curious.