James Fallon - The Psychopath Inside: A Neuroscientists Personal Journey into the Dark Side of the Brain

O ne October day in 2005, as the last vestiges of an Indian summer moved across Southern California, I was inputting some last-minute changes into a paper I was planning to submit to the Ohio State Journal of Criminal Law. I had titled it Neuroanatomical Background to Understanding the Brain of a Young Psychopath and based it on a long series of analyses I had performed, on and off for a decade, of individual brain scans of psychopathic murderers. These are some of the baddest dudes you can imaginetheyd done some heinous things over the years, things that would make you cringe if I didnt have to adhere to confidentiality agreements and could tell you about them.

But their pasts werent the only things that separated them from the rest of us. As a neuroscientist well into the fourth decade of my career, Id looked at a lot of brain scans over the years, and these had been different. The brains belonging to these killers shared a rare and alarming pattern of low brain function in certain parts of the frontal and temporal lobesareas commonly associated with self-control and empathy. This makes sense for those with a history of inhuman violence, since the reduction of activity in these regions suggests a lack of a normal sense of moral reasoning and of the ability to inhibit their impulses. I explained this pattern in my paper, submitted it for publication, and turned my attention to the next project.

At the same time Id been studying the murderers scans, my lab had been conducting a separate study exploring which genes, if any, are linked to Alzheimers disease. As part of our research, my colleagues and I had run genetic tests and taken brain scans of several Alzheimers patients as well as several members of my family, who were serving as the normal control group.

On this same October day, I sat down to analyze my familys scans and noticed that the last scan in the pile was strikingly odd. In fact it looked exactly like the most abnormal of the scans I had just been writing about, suggesting that the poor individual it belonged to was a psychopathor at least shared an uncomfortable amount of traits with one. Not suspicious of any of my family members, I naturally assumed that their scans had somehow been mixed with the other pile on the table. I generally have a lot of research going on at one time, and even though I try to keep my work organized it was entirely possible for things to get misplaced. Unfortunately, since we were trying to keep the scans anonymous, wed coded them to hide the names of the individuals they belonged to. To be sure I hadnt made a mistake, I asked our lab technician to break the blind code.

When I found out who the scan belonged to, I had to believe there was a mistake. In a fit of pique, I asked the technician to check the scanner and all the notes from the other imaging and database technicians. But there had been no mistake.

The scan was mine.

Imagine with me for a moment.

Its a bright, warm Saturday morning and you decide to take a stroll through the park near your home. After a brisk walk, you sit down on a bench in the shade of an oak tree next to a nice-enough-looking chap. You say hi, and he says hi, and then he says what a nice day it is and how good it is to be alive. As you talk to him for the next fifteen minutes, you form an opinion of him as he forms an opinion of you. There is much you can glean from someone in this brief window of time. You might learn what he does for a living, whether he is married or has children, or what he likes to do in his spare time. He can appear to be intelligent, charming, open, funny, and a generally pleasant conversationalist who can tell an interesting little story.

But depending on who this person is, the second fifteen minutes can be dramatically more telling. For instance, if he is in the early stages of Alzheimers disease, he might repeat the same exact interesting little story, with the same exact facial and body movements and punch line as before. If he is schizophrenic, he might start to shift in his seat or lean in a little too close as he talks to you. You might start to feel uncomfortable and will get up and leave, glancing back to make sure he isnt following you.

If I were the man sitting next to you on the bench, you would probably find me a generally interesting person. If you asked me what line of work Im in, Id say that I am a brain researcher, and if you pressed further Id say I am a professor in the Department of Psychiatry and Human Behavior and affiliated with the Department of Anatomy and Neurobiology in the School of Medicine at the University of California, Irvine. Id tell you how Ive spent my career teaching medical students and residents and graduate students about the brain. If you seemed interested, I would then tell you about my research with adult stem cells and animal models of Parkinsons disease and chronic stroke, and that the basic research from my lab has led to the creation of three biotech companies, one of which has been netting profits consistently for the past twenty-five years, and another that just won a national award from its peer biotech companies.

If you still seemed interested, I might mention that I am also involved in organizations and think tanks that focus on the arts, architecture, music, education, and medical research, or that I have served as an adviser to the U.S. Department of Defense on what war does to the brain. If you asked further, I might mention the TV shows and films Ive acted in or that I thoroughly enjoyed my past jobs as a bartender, a laborer, a schoolteacher, and a carpenter, and still have my out-of-active-duty Teamsters card from my days as a truck driver.

At some point you might start thinking to yourself that Im a blowhard or even that I am making this stuff up, especially if I also mentioned that when I was fourteen years old I was named Catholic Boy of the Year for the diocese of Albany, New York, or was a five-sport high school and college athlete. But although you might think I talk way too much or am something of a bullshitter, you would also find that when I talk with you, I look you in the eye and listen carefully to everything you say. In fact, you might be surprised at how interested I am in your life, your opinions, and how you view the world.