APPLIED CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY

ABOUT THE EDITOR

Richard N. Kocsis, Ph.D., is a forensic psychologist in private

practice. He is the author/coauthor of close to 90 scholarly publica-
tions (articles, book chapters, etc.) on the topics of criminal profil-
ing, serial violent offenders, and their investigation. He has served
as an expert consultant to law enforcement, emergency, and prose-
cution agencies as well as to law firms. In addition to his clinical and
forensic work, he has held various academic positions in the areas
of forensic psychology and criminology. In 2000, he was awarded
the Australian Museum's prestigious Eureka prize for critical think-
ing in recognition of his scientific research in the area of criminal
profiling.
APPLIED CRIMINAL
PSYCHOLOGY
A Guide to Forensic Behavioral Sciences

Edited by

RICHARD N. KOCSIS, PH.D.

 Published and Distributed Throughout the World by

CHARLES C THOMAS • PUBLISHER, LTD.

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©2009 by CHARLES C THOMAS • PUBLISHER, LTD.

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Applied criminal psychology : a guide to forensic behavioral sciences

/ edited by Richard N. Kocsis
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Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-398-07842-3 (hard) -- ISBN 978-0-398-07843-0 (paper)
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 Anyukám,
Ebben az életben mindenemet neked köszönhetem
 CONTRIBUTORS

Justin S. Albrechtsen
Justin S. Albrechtsen is a Ph.D. candidate in the Legal Psychology Doctoral Program
at the University of Texas at El Paso. He is currently investigating the underlying
cognitive processes involved in detecting deception and in the study of alibis, includ-
ing their production and assessment in a legal context.

Coral Dando
Doctor Coral Dando, BSc (Hons), Ph.D., is a Research Associate at the University of
Leicester, United Kingdom and is currently conducting research aimed at assisting
the process of investigating criminal and terrorist activity. She is also a tutor at
London South Bank University, teaching Investigative Forensic Psychology. Prior to
commencing an academic career, Coral served as a Police Officer with the
Metropolitan Police Service London where her primary duties involved conducting
investigative interviews with both the victims and the perpetrators of serious sexual
offences. Coral has both a first degree and a Ph.D. in Psychology. Her Ph.D. research
falls into the domain of Forensic and Investigative Psychology but draws on the the-
oretical aspects of memory and cognition with an applied focus.

Pär Anders Granhag

Pär Anders Granhag is Professor of Psychology at Göteborg University. He has con-
ducted research within legal psychology for more than 15 years and has published
more than 130 scientific reports and several books. His main research topics are eye-
witness testimony, deception detection, and issues pertaining to investigative psy-
chology. He is on the editorial board of the following scientific journals: Applied
Cognitive Psychology; Psychology, Crime & Law; Legal & Criminological Psychology; and
Journal of Investigative Psychology & Offender Profiling. Since 2000 he has been the head
of the research unit for Criminal, Legal, and Investigative Psychology (CLIP), which
is situated at the Department of Psychology, Göteborg University.

James S. Herndon
Doctor James S. Herndon has been a police psychologist for more than twenty years.
He served as the Staff Psychologist for the Orange County (Florida) Sheriff's Office

vii
viii Applied Criminal Psychology

from 1992 to 2002. In that capacity, he was a member of the Crisis Negotiation Team
and responded to more than 100 calls involving barricaded subjects and hostage sit-
uations. Prior to that, he was the Executive Director of Police Psychological Services
of Hampton Roads, Inc. in Virginia, and in that capacity provided assistance to 14
law enforcement agencies, including crisis intervention advice and training. He has
been trained by the FBI and other law enforcement organizations in the techniques
of Crisis Negotiation. He is a past president of the Council of Police Psychological
Services (COPPS), as well as a past president of the Society for Police and Criminal
Psychology (SPCP). He holds a Diplomate in police psychology from SPCP and is
the Chair of the Diplomate Committee. He serves on the editorial board of the
Journal of Police and Criminal Psychology. Additionally, he holds Diplomate status
from the American College of Forensic Examiners. He currently consults with law
enforcement agencies on organizational and operational issues and serves as an
adjunct professor at four colleges and universities in Florida. His Ph.D. is in indus-
trial/organizational psychology from Old Dominion University, and his Ed.D. is in
counseling psychology from the University of Sarasota.

Allyson J. Horgan
Allyson J. Horgan is a Ph.D. candidate in the Legal Psychology Doctoral Program at
the University of Texas at El Paso. Her research interests include false confessions,
interrogation techniques, and the evaluation of alibis.

Andreas (Andros) Kapardis

Andreas (Andros) Kapardis is Professor of Legal Psychology and Acting Chairman
of the Department of Law, University of Cyprus. He has a Ph.D. in Criminology
from Cambridge University and for a number of years taught in the Law and Legal
Studies Department of La Trobe University. He also teaches forensic psychology at
the Cyprus Police Academy. Since 1995, he has also been teaching as a part of the
Masters in Criminology program at Cambridge University. His research interests
center around criminology, penology, and legal psychology. He has published
extensively internationally, and his books include Psychology and Law (2nd edition,
Cambridge University Press, 2003); Sentencing by English Magistrates as a Human
Process (1985); They Wrought Mayhem: an Insight into Mass Murder (River Seine Press,
Melbourne, 1989); Sentencing in Cyprus (Sakkoulas Press, Athens, 2003); Economic
Crimes in Cyprus (Sakkoulas Press, 2001) and Society, Crime and Criminal Justice in
Cyprus in the First Years of British Rule (Sakkoulas Press, 2001).

Cara Laney
Cara Laney is a lecturer of Forensic Psychology at the University of Leicester in the
United Kingdom. She received her Ph.D. in Psychology and Social Behavior from
the University of California, Irvine in 2006. She has conducted research in various
aspects of memory, including false memory, and the interaction between emotion
and memory.
 Contributors ix

Elizabeth F. Loftus
Elizabeth F. Loftus is Distinguished Professor at the University of California - Irvine.
She holds faculty positions both in Criminology, Law & Society and in Psychology
and Social Behavior. She is also Professor of Law. She received her Ph.D. in
Psychology from Stanford University. Since then, she has published 20 books and
more than 400 scientific articles. Loftus’ research for the last 30 years has focused on
the malleability of human memory. She has been recognized for this research with
five honorary doctorates and election to the National Academy of Sciences, the
American Philosophical Society, and the Royal Society of Edinburgh. She is past
president of the Association for Psychological Science, the Western Psychological
Association, and the American Psychology-Law Society.

Christian A. Meissner
Christian A. Meissner is Associate Professor of Psychology & Criminal Justice at the
University of Texas at El Paso. He holds a Ph.D. in Cognitive & Behavioral Science
from Florida State University (2001) and conducts empirical studies on the psycho-
logical processes underlying investigative interviews, including issues surrounding
eyewitness recall and identification, deception detection, and interrogations and con-
fessions. He has published more than 35 peer-reviewed journal articles and book
chapters, and he has been funded by both the National Science Foundation and the
U.S. Department of Defense. Because of his research, Dr. Meissner has also served
as a consultant and expert witness on issues of eyewitness misidentification and false
confession in numerous state and federal courts in the United States.

Rebecca Milne
Doctor Rebecca Milne, BSc (Hons), Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology & Criminal Sci-
ence is a Principal Lecturer at the Institute of Criminal Justice Studies at the Univer-
sity of Portsmouth. She is the course leader of the FdA Investigation and Evidence,
a distance learning degree program specifically for investigators. A chartered foren-
sic psychologist and scientist and Associate Fellow of the British Psychological
Society, she is an Associate Editor of the International Journal of Police Science and Man-
agement and is the academic lead member of the Association of Chief Police Of-
ficers’ Investigative Interviewing Strategic Steering Group. She has worked closely
with the police and other criminal justice organizations (in the United Kingdom and
abroad) through training of the enhanced cognitive interview, and witness interview
advising and also in the interviewing of vulnerable groups (Tier 3 and 5) and pro-
viding case advice. Recently Rebecca was part of a writing team that developed the
Achieving Best Evidence Document (Home Office, 2007), and national guidance
regarding how best to interview vulnerable and intimidated witnesses and victims
and she co-organized the Second International Conference on Investigative Inter-
viewing that took place in Portsmouth in July 2006.
x Applied Criminal Psychology

Alan Newman
Alan Newman, M.D., is an Associate Professor of Clinical Psychiatry at Georgetown
University Medical School, where he is Director of Residency Training and Codirec-
tor of the Fellowship in Forensic Psychiatry. He is the Medical Director of the inpa-
tient psychiatry service at Georgetown University Hospital. He is the former direc-
tor of the Fellowship in Forensic Neuropsychiatry at Tulane University. He is board
certified in Psychiatry and Forensic Psychiatry. Dr. Newman attended medical
school and residency at the University of Arkansas, where he was elected to Alpha
Omega Alpha. Dr. Newman was a 1996 Rappeport Fellow of the American
Academy of Psychiatry and the Law and the 1997 Daniel X. Freedman
Congressional Fellow, where he served on the Health Staff of the U.S. Senate
Committee on Labor and Human Resources. He completed his Fellowship in
Forensic Neuropsychiatry at Tulane University in 1998. He is the former chair of a
1999 Insanity Defense reform taskforce in Arkansas, which led to substantial leg-
islative changes in how criminal responsibility and trial competency evaluations are
administered in Arkansas. Dr. Newman lectures extensively on forensic issues and
has published articles and book chapters on a variety of forensic psychiatry topics,
including cyberstalking, the misuse of hypnosis by police, admissibility of hypnoti-
cally refreshed testimony, and the treatment of stalking victims. Dr. Newman is a
member of the Executive Council of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the
Law. He is the former president of the Southern Chapter of American Academy of
Psychiatry and the Law.

George B. Palermo
Dr. George B. Palermo graduated from the University of Bologna Medical School,
Bologna, Italy, and was trained in general medicine and psychiatry in the United
States. He is a Diplomate of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology in
Psychiatry and a Fellow of the American Board of Forensic Examiners and a
Diplomate of Forensic Medicine. In 2004 he received a Master of Science Degree in
Criminology from the University of Rome, La Sapienza. He is presently Clinical
Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Nevada Medical School and at the
Medical College of Wisconsin and Professor Adjunct of Criminology and Law
Studies at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Dr. Palermo is Editor-in-
Chief of the International Journal of Offender Therapy and Comparative Criminology and
is a member of the Executive Board of the International Academy of Law and
Mental Health. In addition, he is on the review boards of various national and inter-
national psychiatric and criminology journals. He has published numerous articles
and book chapters on forensic psychiatry and criminology as well as several books.
Dr. Palermo operates a private practice of forensic psychiatry, with offices in
Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and Henderson, Nevada. He was the court-appointed psy-
chiatrist in the case of the serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer and in various other high-pro-
file criminal cases.
 Contributors xi

Georgia Panayiotou
Georgia Panayiotou is an Assistant Professor in the Psychology Department, Univer-
sity of Cyprus. She holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology from Purdue University and
has taught at Mississippi State University. Her research interests are emotional
processes in antisocial behavior, anxiety and affective disorders, emotional and cog-
nitive processes in psychopathology, and the psychophysiology of emotion and cog-
nition. She has published extensively in international journals.

Phillip J. Resnick
Dr. Resnick is a Professor of Psychiatry and Director of the Division of Forensic
Psychiatry at Case School of Medicine in Cleveland, Ohio. Dr. Resnick has served
as a consultant in many high-profile cases, including those of Jeffrey Dahmer; Susan
Smith; Timothy McVeigh; Andrea Yates; Scott Peterson; William Kennedy Smith;
and Theodore Kaczynski, the Unabomber. Dr. Resnick has served as President of
the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law. He has published more than 130
articles and book chapters.

Charles L. Scott
Charles L. Scott, M.D., is Chief of the Division of Psychiatry and the Law, Forensic
Psychiatry Training Director, and Associate Clinical Professor of Psychiatry at the
University of California, Davis. He is board certified in general psychiatry, child and
adolescent psychiatry, addiction psychiatry, and forensic psychiatry. He is a member
of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law (AAPL), a national task-force
to develop guidelines for the evaluation of criminal responsibility and insanity. Dr.
Scott is also the AAPL Forensic Psychiatry Review Course faculty instructor for psy-
chiatry and the death penalty. He has served as a forensic psychiatric consultant to
jails, prisons, and maximum security forensic inpatient units and to the National
Football League (NFL), providing training on violence risk assessment for NFL
counselors. Dr. Scott has published articles and book chapters in the areas of risk
assessment of violence and aggression, the death penalty, juvenile violence, and
mental health law. He has coauthored book chapters on child psychiatry and the
assessment of dangerousness. His research interests include the relationship of sub-
stance use to aggression among mentally disordered offenders. He was first editor of
The Handbook of Correctional Mental Health, from American Psychiatric Publishing,
Inc., and was guest editor for the September 2006 edition of the Psychiatric Clinics
of North America devoted specifically to forensic psychiatry. Dr. Scott is a member
of the California Judicial Action Committee and is a counselor for AAPL. He lec-
tures nationally on the topics of violence risk assessment, juvenile violence, sub-
stance use and violence, the assessment of sex offenders, correctional psychiatry, and
malpractice issues in mental health. His academic subspecialty is child forensic psy-
chiatry. He is a graduate of Emory University School of Medicine.
xii Applied Criminal Psychology

Leif A. Strömwall
Leif A. Strömwall is an Associate Professor at the Department of Psychology,
Göteborg University, Sweden. He has published on topics such as deception detec-
tion in general, police interrogations, verbal correlates of deception, and adults’ abil-
ity to detect children’s lies. He, with collaborators and alone, has received funding
for several research grants. He has furthermore developed courses in legal and in-
vestigative psychology for graduate and undergraduate students and regularly in-
structs legal professionals such as prosecutors and police investigators in legal and
investigative psychological matters.

John W. Thompson, Jr.

John W. Thompson, Jr., received his medical degree at the University of Texas
Medical Branch in Galveston, Texas. He completed psychiatry residency training
and a forensic psychiatry fellowship at the University of Florida College of Medicine
in Gainesville, Florida. He is board certified in psychiatry with added qualifications
in forensic psychiatry and addiction psychiatry. He is presently the Director of
Forensic Neuropsychiatry and Vice-Chairman of Adult Psychiatry in the Depart-
ment of Psychiatry and Neurology at Tulane University School of Medicine in New
Orleans. In addition, Dr. Thompson is the Founding Director of the Tulane Fellow-
ship in Forensic Psychiatry and is Clinical Director of Eastern Louisiana Mental
Health System, a 500-bed civil and forensic hospital system in Louisiana. Dr.
Thompson’s major research interests include the fields of competency restoration,
gambling, aggression and violent behavior, and the insanity defense.

Hjalmar J. C. van Marle

Hjalmar J. C. van Marle is Professor of Forensic Psychiatry at the Erasmus Medical
Center and the School of Law of the Erasmus University in Rotterdam, The
Netherlands. He is also the scientific adviser of the Center of Expertise for Forensic
Psychiatry in Utrecht and a sworn expert witness. As a forensic psychiatrist, he works
in the outpatient clinic Het Dok in Rotterdam.
 FOREWORD

am delighted to welcome this new book on forensic aspects of psychology,

I psychiatry, and behavioral sciences. The volume is introductory and wide-
ranging and provides valuable information about many key forensic issues,
including personality disorders, risk assessment, the forensic psychologist as
an expert witness, detecting deception, eyewitness memory, cognitive inter-
viewing, forensic hypnosis, false confessions, criminal profiling, and crisis
negotiation. These are all topics in which psychologists and other behavioral
scientists have made great contributions. The book is international and inter-
disciplinary in its scope and focus. It should be of great interest to both schol-
ars and practitioners and indeed is highly relevant to forensic practice.
The editor, Richard Kocsis, is well-known, especially for his contributions
to criminal profiling. His book Criminal Profiling: Principles and Practice
(Humana Press, 2006) contains a valuable compendium of knowledge about
profiling and presents his own theory of “Crime Action Profiling.” Many of
the contributors to this book are also well-known scholars or practitioners.
All of them have useful information to impart.
Forensic psychology is a booming subject. Every year, there is a greater
appreciation of the contributions of psychology to understanding and work-
ing with offenders, victims, and witnesses in prisons, hospitals, courts, and
police settings. Conse-quently, the need for trained scholars and practition-
ers in forensic behavioral sciences grows every year, and their work is
increasingly valued by government agencies. In the United Kingdom, the
number of psychologists employed by the prison service more than doubled
in the early years of this century. This book should be of great interest to stu-
dents who are planning careers in forensic psychology, criminology, and
policing.
In the view of the general public and the mass media, forensic psycholo-
gy seems to be dominated by criminal profiling. This book shows that crim-
inal profiling, while extremely important, is only one of many topics that are
included within forensic behavioral sciences. The real contribution of
applied criminal psychology is in applying scientific methods and scientific
knowledge to problems involving human behavior and human decision-

xiii
xiv Applied Criminal Psychology

making. The work of psychologists should contribute greatly in reducing the

prevalence of many troubling social problems, including crime and violence.
This book is an excellent showcase of the contributions of those who apply
criminal psychology methods.

David P. Farrington

Professor of Psychological Criminology,

Cambridge University
 PREFACE

he human race has held an almost primordial interest in seeking to fath-

T om the psyche of those within our societies who commit crime. Although
scholars from a variety of disciplines have contemplated this issue over the
centuries, only recently has a dedicated focus begun to emerge on the issue
of crime from the discipline of psychology. Distinct from the care provided
by psychiatrists and psychologists to the mentally ill who have perpetrated
crimes or the various mental state evaluations of individuals (Melton, Petrila,
Poythress & Slobogin, 2007; Rogers & Shuman, 2000) for the purpose of
court/legal proceedings,1 the application of psychology in the context of
crime, its perpetration and investigation, is a comparatively recent develop-
ment. In this sense, much has been developed in the past few decades in
terms of our knowledge about the many manifestations of crime.
In contemplating the application of psychology in the context of crime
and the criminal justice system, it occurred to me that no one text seemed to
encapsulate the spectrum of topics that can be conceptualized as criminal
psychology. There seemed to be a range of fine books available on discrete
topics such as the reliability of eyewitness memories, the detection of decep-
tion, and even hostage negotiation. What appeared to be absent however
was a text that cohesively drew together the diverse topics comprising this
area of criminal psychology. With this apparent paucity in the scholarly lit-
erature, I decided to embark upon the production of the book.
However, in setting out to produce this text on the growing area of crimi-
nal psychology I did not want to simply try and offer my summary and inter-
pretation of the existing and quite sophisticated literature. Rather, I wanted
to identify what I saw as the key topic areas and enlist the aid of experts in
those respective topics to write the best possible overview for the uninitiated
reader.
The result is this book, which comprises three core components. The first

1. The Oxford English Dictionary (1970, p. 438) defines the word forensic as “pertaining to,
connected with, or used in courts of law” and is derived from the Latin word forensis, which
translates as relating to the forum. In ancient Rome, the forum was the legal structure of the
civilization analogous to courts encountered in contemporary western common law jurisdic-
tions ( Jolowicz & Nicholas, 1972). Thus, the application of a body of disciplinary knowledge
using the prefix forensic is typically in reference to the application of such knowledge or
expertise in the context of the courts and legal proceedings.

xv
xvi Applied Criminal Psychology

part examines the various forms of mental disorder and their relationship or
manifestation in criminal behavior. Additionally, within this section is some
discussion on the role and input of both psychologists and psychiatrists in
examining that interface. The second part of the book focuses on the key
areas of deceit, eyewitness memory and confessions; the third and final part
of the book is dedicated to examining the application of psychology in terms
of investigating or responding to crime.
Consequently, the opening chapters focus on human psychopathologies
and how they manifest themselves in crime. The first chapter examines the
not always clear interplay between mental disorder and criminal behavior as
well as typical DSM Axis I disorders associated with criminal behavior.
Chapter Two then provides an overview of the DSM Axis II or personality
disorders and their specific relevance to criminal behavior. In the third chap-
ter, the role and assessment techniques employed by psychologists and psy-
chiatrists and their application in the criminal justice context are discussed.
These issues are discussed by reference to Western based case law from var-
ious countries, including the United States of America, the United Kingdom,
Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Chapter Four then examines one of
the key applications of criminal psychology (excluding traditional forensic
psychological evaluations such as competency or insanity) in the assessment
of dangerousness, and thus the evaluation of risk in a potentially diverse
range of contexts.
The second part of the book is concerned with the detection of deceit in
assessing the guilt or otherwise of individuals and in judging the veracity of
what suspects and witnesses assert. The reliability of eyewitness memory is
explored: how reliable is human memory, for instance, in circumstances of
stress, illness, or trauma? The psychology of interviewing witnesses for the
purpose of extracting statements is also examined, along with the fallibility
of memory and techniques for enhancing memory in the form of cognitive
interviewing. This part of the book also discusses the technique of hypnosis,
not within the traditional context as a psychotherapeutic tool, however, but
in the sense of whether it has application in an investigative context to
improve eyewitness memory. Finally, the last chapter of this section deals
with another rapidly developing field of study — the phenomenon of false
confessions. In investigating crimes, circumstances can be created whereby
people falsely confess to crimes. The complexity of the reasons for this phe-
nomenon is discussed in detail.
The third and final part of the book deals with topics related to the appli-
cation of psychology in the context of responding to and investigating
crimes. Thus, the technique of criminal profiling and the capacity to exam-
ine exhibited crime behaviors for the purpose of identifying probable char-
 Preface xvii

acteristics of the likely perpetrator of the crime is explored. Following on

from criminal profiling is the perhaps lesser-known technique of psycholog-
ical autopsy, wherein psychology is applied to the evaluation of equivocal
deaths as in the context of coroners’ inquiries to ascertain the purpose or
motive(s) underlying a suspicious death. Was the death the result of suicide,
murder, accident, or some natural cause? The final and concluding chapter
to the book examines the topic of crisis negotiation and when individuals
such as psychologists, psychiatrists, or law enforcement personnel assume a
highly specialized communicative role in attempting to foster a desired out-
come in various crisis situations. Examples range from the release of
hostages in kidnapping or siege contexts through to communicating with
individuals who have barricaded themselves in an area. Negotiation tech-
niques in such situations are intended to encourage a peaceful resolution of
a siege situation in place of a forced incursion by law enforcement to extract
the individual and thus end the siege.
It has been a great pleasure for me to produce this book and an immense
honor to be able to secure the cooperation of such an esteemed collection of
scholars for this project. I have learned a great deal in the process, and I only
hope that the reader derives the same amount of satisfaction and enjoyment
in reading the final text as I have had in gathering together the material.

R.N.K.

REFERENCES

Jolowicz, H.F., and Nicholas, B. (1972). Historical introduction to the study of Roman law. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press.
Melton, G.B., Petrila, J., Poythress, N.G., and Slobogin, C. (2007). Psychological evaluations for
the courts: A handbook for mental health professionals and lawyers (3rd ed.). New York: Guilford
Press.
Rogers, R., and Shuman, D.W. (2000). Conducting insanity evaluations (2nd ed.). New York:
Guilford Press.
 CONTENTS

Page
Foreword — David P. Farrington . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xiii
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

PART A: CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR AND MENTAL DISORDER

1. MENTAL DISORDERS AND CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR. . . . . . . . . 5

Hjalmar van Marle
2. ANTISOCIAL BEHAVIORS AND PERSONALITY
DISORDERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
George B. Palermo
3. THE ROLE OF THE FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGIST . . . . . . . . . . 45
Andreas Kapardis and Georgia Panayiotou
4. RISK ASSESSMENT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
Charles L. Scott and Phillip J. Resnick

PART B: DECEIT, MEMORY AND CONFESSIONS

5. THE DETECTION OF DECEIT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Pär Anders Granhag and Leif A. Strömwell
6. EYEWITNESS MEMORY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
Cara Laney and Elizabeth F. Loftus
7. COGNITIVE INTERVIEWING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
Coral J. Dando and Rebecca Milne
8. FORENSIC HYPNOSIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
John W. Thompson, Jr. and Alan W. Newman
9. FALSE CONFESSIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
Christian A. Meissner, Allyson J. Horgan and Justin S. Albrechtsen

xix
xx Applied Criminal Psychology

PART C: INVESTIGATING OR RESPONDING TO CRIME

10. CRIMINAL PROFILING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213

Richard N. Kocsis
11. PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
Richard N. Kocsis
12. CRISIS NEGOTIATION. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257
James S. Herndon

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281
APPLIED CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY
 Part A
CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR AND MENTAL
DISORDER
 Chapter One

MENTAL DISORDERS AND CRIMINAL

BEHAVIOR

HJALMAR VAN MARLE

I n the criminal court, forensic psychiatrists and psychologists are some-

times called upon as expert witnesses to answer questions relating to
responsibility for a crime, dangerousness for reoffending (i.e. risk-assess-
ment), and treatment for the prevention of reoffending given the presence of
a mental disorder. The main purpose is to describe the connection, if any,
between the presence of any mental disorder and the criminal behavior of
the accused to enable a judgment to be made about the offender in court.
Forensic psychiatry entails both a medical and psychiatric/psychological
assessment of the individual within a legal context. “Forensic” means that
accumulated medical and psychological knowledge is interpreted according
to the law in an explanation of the individual under examination (Rogers &
Shuman, 2005). The results of the person’s examination are interpreted in
terms of the relevant law so that legal questions can be answered.
Forensic psychiatry has as its paradigm the biopsychosocial model (Engel,
1980), which is an interpretive philosophy and research model of a person as
a unity of different levels of functioning — molecular, cellular, biological, psy-
chological, and social — and leads to different forms of psychiatric and psy-
chological treatment. The question of why one person develops one disorder
but not another, or no disorder at all, is an important question in medicine.
It leads researchers not only toward disease-promoting factors but also to
“resilience”, the often-unknown factors, that prevent illness. For contempo-
rary psychiatry, it is biological research into neurological (i.e. brain) activity
that strives to answer why some people develop a mental disorder but oth-
ers do not. Personal and social factors should not be underestimated because

5
6 Applied Criminal Psychology

their impact on criminal behavior is essential and determinative. The effect

of psychological and social factors on the functioning of our brain is the cen-
tral question, because it is the seat of our actions. For forensic psychiatry, a
key question is which patient becomes an offender and which offender
becomes a patient (van Marle, 1996) and what was first, the proclivity toward
crime or the mental disorder (Goethals, Fabri, Buitelaar & van Marle, 2007).
There are many disturbed mental patients and a number of offenders, but
the forensic behavioral sciences concern themselves with the combination
“mad and bad” and “disorder and offense” coming together in one person.
Forensic psychiatrists/psychologists judge the person in the totality of these
aspects and offer their professional opinion about that person.
Questions typically posed to forensic psychiatrists/psychologists can include
the following:
1. Is a mental disorder present now and was it present at the time of the
crime?
2. Can a connection between the two be demonstrated?
3. If so, what is the nature of this connection and what is the strength of
it?
4. What is the level of responsibility of the offender for the crime?
5. What is the risk for reoffending, and which risk factors are present?
6. Is treatment possible to reduce reoffending? (van Marle, 2007)
The objective of this chapter is to briefly explore the range of mental dis-
orders and their relationship to criminal behavior. Emphasis is placed pre-
dominantly on mental disorders, that are frequently observed among crimi-
nal offenders, although others are also mentioned.

UNDERSTANDING AND DEFINING MENTAL DISORDER

Disorders are diagnosed by clinicians. Mental health experts agree on a

certain number of symptoms and their combination (as syndromes) and their
possible interplay with causal factors. These combinations can be labeled as
mental “disorder”, “disease” or “illness.” Mental disorders only exist via the
manifestation of symptoms and behaviors. The patient, the person with a dis-
order, is a unique person who prints his or her unique picture on the phe-
notype of the disorder, depending on his or her personality and circum-
stances. People with the same psychiatric disorder can manifest themselves
totally differently as patients because of these unique individual differences
in the manifestation of the disorder.
For mental health researchers, the ideal disorder for scientific research is
one that always has the same cause, a typical course, measurable organic
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 7

abnormalities, agreed-upon characteristic treatments with a steady prognosis

and a known terminal stage, with and without treatment. A holistic perspec-
tive is required (Kaplan & Sadock, 1995). Unfortunately, psychiatric/psy-
chological sciences are not currently able to describe mental disorders in this
ideal way. This is the reason why the word illness in psychiatry and psy-
chology is replaced by the broader term disorder. Additionally, in mental
disorders, there is no such thing as “the cause”. Causality depends on many
factors, including those of a biological, psychological, or social origin, or a
combination of these. As such, vulnerabilities in childhood development and
even in pregnancy may be involved as well as situational factors leading
directly to the origin of the disorder and more circumstantial factors sustain-
ing the disorder by their persisting influence. Some factors can be influenced
by education whereas others relate to the brain’s functioning. Treatments
exist both in biologically influencing the brain’s functions by medication and
in psychological therapies.
In forensic psychiatry and psychology one has to be extremely cautious
because of the danger that criminal behaviors (abnormalities in a social way)
may be labeled as mental disorders. A conflict between a person and public
authority can never be held as a mental disorder per se. Someone committing
an offense, and as such being socially deviant, is not mentally ill until proven
so by the existence of a mental disorder.
In mental health assessments the examiner does not avoid using the psy-
chodynamic model: a model that is based on the axiom of psychic forces in
the personality that strive together to produce a healthy balance between the
person and his environment (adaptation). Central is the connection between
this unique individual — his behavior and actions — and the context of the
legal system in which he lives. That is, between his personality and his crim-
inal behavior and his capacity as a human being to act responsibly. Why a
person committed a crime or why a certain mental disorder has led to a cer-
tain impairment can only be understood by looking at the functioning of this
personality directly within the context of the crime. At this time we cannot
examine specific biological brain functions within any theory of aggression
or crime because we cannot identify biological data that discriminate one
person from another with respect to certain criminal behavior. For example,
to date no brain abnormality or structure can be identified that is common-
ly inherent to all individuals who commit crimes of arson. Similarly, social
theories of crime cannot be applied to individual perpetrators in terms of
determining questions about individual responsibility. Accordingly, individ-
ual psychiatric/psychological evaluations are resorted to and often involve
measuring personality traits by psychological tests that have good validity for
the purposes of a court. Mental health questions that a court and mental
health practitioners are often interested in understanding include the follow-
ing:
8 Applied Criminal Psychology

1. How easily can somebody express himself or herself?

2. Is somebody able to continue and to end his or her actions?
3. How are somebody’s standards and values in society compared with
those within the society itself?
4. What is the ideal for which we should be striving?
5. How does somebody cope with stress factors?
6. How does somebody have control over his or her impulses and
aggression?
7. How well is somebody able to endure uncertainty and misfortune?
8. What is the nature and quality of intimate relationships?
9. What is the capacity to create equilibrium between one’s own needs
and those of the environment?
The transition from deviancy to a mental disorder depends on the definition
adopted from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (4th ed.) (DSM-IV) criteri-
on (American Psychiatric Association [APA], 1994).1 A mental disorder
should imply suffering or impairment for the patient in his or her profes-
sional or social functioning.

CLASSIFICATIONS OF MENTAL DISORDER: THE DSM-IV AND

THE ICD-10

Although the International Classification of Diseases (10 ed.) (ICD-10) section

on psychiatric disorders and the DSM-IV are comparable and can be trans-
lated by codes into each other, in many countries in the western world the
DSM-IV (APA, 1994)2 is used more often than the ICD-10, probably because
most countries are oriented toward North America for their psychiatric/psy-
chological research. Consequently, the different disorders that will be dis-
cussed herein come from the DSM-IV. The DSM-IV is a classification of dis-
ease over five axes, and each axis points to a domain of knowledge that deals
with the planning of treatment for patients and predicting the outcome. The
five axes to the DSM-IV are:
• Axis I: Clinical disorders and other problems that can be a reason for
mental health care

1. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, 4th edition, edited by the American Psychiatric
Association (1994) provides information about the different mental disorders and the criteria
necessary for a certain classification in name and code. Comparable to the DSM-IV is the
International Classification of Diseases, 10th edition, (ICD-10) edited by the World Health
Organization (1992).
2. It should be noted that subsequent to the development of the DSM-IV a text revision has
also been published that currently represents the most contemporaneous version of the DSM
(i.e. DSM-IV-TR; APA, 2000).
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 9

• Axis II: Personality disorders and mental handicap

• Axis III: General somatic health
• Axis IV: Psychosocial and environmental problems
• Axis V: Global assessment of functioning (GAF)
The differing axes of the DSM-IV are independent of each other, and most
mental health experts would agree that there is no theory per se behind the
DSM-IV; thus it is a largely descriptive lexicon. The five axes are necessary
to do justice to the complexity of psychiatric classification. Axis I is the cat-
egory with the clinically well-known mental disorders.3 Axis II classifies the
personality disorders into categories, with three main clusters: A, B and C.
Mental handicaps are also classified here. Axis III classifies the somatic dis-
orders, which are in some way relevant for the mental state of the patient.
They can be a condition for the disorder in a biological or psychological
way, and these somatic disorders may have implications for a particular
treatment regime, for instance, as a contraindication for certain medications.
With Axis IV, social problems can be present, such as problems in the indi-
vidual’s primary support network, in social relations, in work or study, with
housing or economics, with health care, or in crime-related issues.
With respect to Axis V a global assessment of the individual’s personal
functioning is performed, and classified from 0 to 100 percent. A value of 100
suggests functioning perfectly in a variety of activities, 70 stands for mild
symptoms, 50 for serious symptoms or a serious impairment in social func-
tioning, 10 means a persistent danger for injuries or the life of the patient or
others. Zero (0) as a score means inadequate information. Axis V indicates
the extent to which the mental disorder impairs the patient’s daily life func-
tioning as mentioned in the earlier axes. Consequently, Axis V indicates the
severity of the impairment in social functioning. The overall evaluation of an
individual is referred to as the status praesens (present state) and shows the
combination of all symptoms present across all five axes.
It should be noted that a number of different disorders from the same axis
can potentially be diagnosed in a patient. This circumstance, in which dif-
ferent disorders may be present in a person, is known as comorbidity. It is,
however, a point of debate as to whether a person can have two separate
diagnoses from the same axis. That is, whether a person has two or more dif-
ferent and separate mental disorders instead of one that may in fact account
for all the observed symptoms.

3. In Axis I, other problems that need immediate attention and are a reason for care are also
classified.
10 Applied Criminal Psychology

COMMON MENTAL DISORDERS IN CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR

In this section the main categories of Axis I mental disorders from the
DSM-IV will be discussed,4 Axis II disorders (i.e. personality disorders) are
explored separately in the following chapter. In this chapter, particular atten-
tion will be given to Axis I disorders including the following5:
• disorders usually first diagnosed in infancy, childhood, or adolescence
• cognitive disorders
• substance-related disorders
• schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders
• mood disorders
• anxiety disorders
• somatoform disorders
• factitious disorders
• dissociative disorders
• sexual and gender identity disorders
• eating disorders
• sleeping disorders
• impulse-control disorders not elsewhere classified
• adjustment disorder

Some of these can be associated with criminal behavior.

Disorders Usually First Diagnosed in Infancy, Childhood, or

Adolescence
Pervasive developmental disorders are disorders present from childbirth,
that continue for the entire life of the person. Possibly one of the most promi-
nent is autism, which is characterized by pathological introversion and the
incapacity to communicate adequately with other people as well as the pres-
ence of stereotyped behavior patterns. Individuals with autism also have an
excessive need for order. That is, a need to know what is happening next,
which is referred to as “the need for sameness.” Another prominent devel-
opmental disorder is Asperger’s Syndrome, which is characterized by

4. It should be noted that when a particular constellation of symptoms cannot be clearly

classified within one of the main diagnostic definitions contained in the DSM, each of the
major categories described in the DSM nonetheless includes a miscellaneous category
referred to as Not Otherwise Specified (NOS).
5. Mental disorders due to a general medical condition are not discussed in this chapter.
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 11

demonstrations of impaired communication and relationships; these patients

have a strong daily occupation with one or more stereotyped patterns of
interest in an abnormal and restricted way, for instance, collecting. Also
within the rubric of developmental disorders are mental handicaps such as
mental retardation6 and borderline intellectual functioning that have a genet-
ic origin or have been caused by difficulties in childbirth. Head injury or
trauma can also cause them.
Beyond the pervasive developmental disorders there are three disruptive
behavior disorders in childhood of relevance to criminal behavior. These
include conduct disorder (CD), oppositional defiant disorder (ODD) and
attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). CD is an externalizing dis-
order, which implies a disorder in social functioning involving behaviors
such as lying, stealing, fighting, and burglary. ODD is a mild form of conduct
disorder and manifests itself in disobedience, temper tantrums, or nega-
tivism, but it does not directly imply criminal behavior. ADHD involves a
deficit in attention and involves hyperactivity. Some patients suffer more
from symptoms of attention deficit than from hyperactivity; others have it
the other way around. ADHD does not lead directly to delinquent or anti-
social behavior, but because these individuals with ADHD often have social
problems related to their disorder, over time more of them may drift toward
antisocial or delinquent behavior because of their social discrimination and
exclusion.
Finally, learning disorders and language disorders are also relevant to the
considerations of forensic psychiatrists/psychologists as far as they may com-
plicate social development in childhood because these complications may
lead to isolation, aggression and antisocial behavior.

Cognitive Disorders
Delirium and dementia are disturbances in cognition and social function-
ing that typically have an organic basis in the brain itself. Dementia is char-
acterized by dysfunction in memory, especially in terms of disorientation
with time, place, and people. These individuals have lost their awareness for
time or place or are not able in any way at all to recognize one person from
another. There are also problems in information processing, the planning
and execution of activities, and recognizing things, together with malfunc-
tion in language and impaired motor skills.
Delirium disorders involve a lowering of consciousness with impairment

6. Mental retardation means an intelligence quotient of 70 or lower on an individual IQ test.

12 Applied Criminal Psychology

of memory, anxiety attacks, hallucinations, and agitation. Often delirium has

organic causes, such as fever, or it can be induced through the consumption
of alcohol or drugs, or both. Withdrawl from substances of abuse is also able
to cause delirium.

Substance-Related Disorders
Substance use can lead to medical conditions such as addictions, depen-
dency, or social abuse of soft drugs (e.g. cannabis) and hard drugs or med-
ications, including alcohol and nicotine. Intoxication, withdrawal, delirium
and persistent dementia, amnesia, psychotic disturbances, affective disor-
ders, anxiety disorders sleep disorders and sexual dysfunction can all result
from substance abuse and some of these may ultimately culminate in differ-
ing forms of criminal behavior. Also the wide variety of affects and side-
effects produced by different drugs and the criminal activities which a drug
user may need to become involved in in order to obtain drugs may result in
criminal offenses.

Schizophrenia and Other Psychotic Disorders

Schizophrenia is a disorder that features delusions and hallucinations,
along with identity loss and difficulty with interpersonal contact. In addition
to these positive symptoms, there are also what are known as negative symp-
toms, such as apathy, blunted and/or inappropriate affect, and deficits in
speech and thought.7 Delusions, especially paranoid and grandiose delu-
sions,8 are more frequent than other forms of delusion. Hallucinations are
sensations from perception that are not real but cannot be corrected by the
individual. Individuals experiencing hallucinations may hear voices or see
certain things that have a special, often delusional, meaning for them.
However, hallucinations can also be experienced through other senses such
as smell and touch.9
Schizophrenia as such is widespread throughout the world, with a preva-
lence of approximately 1 percent. The form in which schizophrenia mani-
fests itself also depends on the culture in which the individual lives.
For many years there has been debate about the degree of dangerousness
(in terms of risk assessment and risk management) of individuals suffering
from schizophrenia (Monahan & Steadman, 1994). Some researchers have
found that they were more dangerous than ordinary people, whereas others
7. Chaotic or catatonic behavior also belongs to the symptoms of schizophrenia.
8. For example, individuals may feel themselves sent by a magical power or messenger to
save society.
9. Hallucinations can be ameliorated by the use of antipsychotic medication. The end stage
of schizophrenia symptomology is referred to as “residual type” which features negative symp-
toms and two or more of the symptoms mentioned earlier.
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 13

have found the opposite. Selection of effectively different populations in the

research is a very common factor, which may account for the differences in
research outcomes (i.e. selection bias). Central to committing offenses is also
the degree of social pressure and loss of social coherence in the daily lives of
these patients, through living in a big city or in poverty (Weiser et al., 2007).
The more chaotic the environment around them, the more aggressive and
chaotic they are themselves (Cantor-Graae & Selten, 2005). On the other
hand, too much intimacy is also harmful to them. Intimate relationships are
a burden on them because of the emotional load of attachment and expec-
tations (Gunn & Taylor, 1993).
Many individuals with schizophrenia who are in an adequate equilibrium
are not more dangerous than other people are, although their situation is
more prone to disruption. The immediate surroundings of patients influence
their dangerousness and are probably the only cause, next to vulnerability,
of the schizophrenic patient.10 In addition, individuals with schizophrenia are
more prone to abuse drugs and alcohol. Drugs might mitigate their symp-
toms in a subjective way but lead socially toward unpredictable and chaotic
behavior that often lapses into aggression. Because circumstances are very
important in terms of improving or worsening their condition, these patients
should refrain from using alcohol and drugs and should also be housed in a
clean and socially adjusted environment.

Mood Disorders
Mood disorders are disturbances in mood or affect, or both, and are char-
acterized by certain episodes of depressive, hypomanic, or manic moods.
Bipolar disorder is diagnosed when alternating mood episodes occur in the
same person. With mood disorders, single episodes of depression or mania
can be frequent and recurrent.11
A major depressive disorder means a substantial depression not due to
schizophrenia or a schizoaffective disorder or other psychotic disorders. In
less severe forms of depression individuals comprehend reality, but a depres-
sive mood pervades their thoughts. There is mental insight by the patient in
the manifestation of the disease. Their thoughts are not psychotic, and they
can be partly corrected sometimes. There is often a loss of interest and ini-
tiative. As the depression deepens, other symptoms may appear, including
suicidal thoughts or tendencies, impairment of vital functions such as loss of

10. For instance, chaotic and catatonic behavior as primary symptoms of schizophrenia
increase with circumstantial stress. The negative symptoms are mostly a negative sign for the
progression of the treatment. The positive symptoms are easier to treat by antipsychotic med-
ication.
11. It is important to distinguish mood disorders, however, from schizoafffective disorder, in
which symptoms of depression and symptoms of schizophrenia are combined.
14 Applied Criminal Psychology

appetite, loss of sleep or irregular sleep, and deterioration of movement and

sexuality.12
In a manic episode, the mood is elevated and expansive. There is often
psychomotor agitation and hyperactivity with no real purpose. There are
often disturbances in sleep patterns, with a decreased need for sleep while
thoughts and language are disjointed and fast paced. There is poor concen-
tration and easy distraction. These patients are irritable and prone to super-
ficial aggressive outbursts. In the context of criminal behavior these patients
are known to experience delusions of grandiosity and may make unwise
decisions about financial matters.
Another notable mood disorder is that of dysthymic disorder, which is a
less-severe depression than a major depressive disorder. The depressive
mood of individuals with dysthymic disorder is not present all day, nor is it
present for all days but only most days.13 Some basic symptoms also exist
here, such as deficiencies in concentration or decision making, feelings of
helplessness and hopelessness, tiredness, loss of self-esteem, disturbances in
sleep patterns, and decreased or increased appetite.14

Anxiety Disorders
Anxiety disorders are characterized by abnormal degrees of anxiety15 and
can include panic attacks, specific phobias, as well as more general social
phobias. Anxiety disorders of relevance in the context of criminal behavior
may include obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and posttraumatic stress
disorder (PTSD). Obsessive-compulsive behavior is characterized by persis-
tent thoughts, impulses, or fantasies acting upon the person. They are expe-
rienced as not belonging to the patient’s own values and thoughts, so they
cause distress, anxiety, and self-doubt. The individual tries to suppress or
ignore these impulses or fantasies or to neutralize them with other thoughts
or engaging in behavioral routines. Resisting the urge for these behaviors

12. A good indicator for requiring antidepressant medication is that the patient manifests
mood swings within a day, with the patient feeling very depressed in the morning when he or
she awakes but feeling better in the evening. The course of the depressive disorder changes,
so there are periods of depression and spontaneous recoveries to normal, but sometimes the
mood swings are so pronounced that after a period of depression a period of mania follows.
In these cases not only is an antidepressant necessary for treatment but so are so-called mood
stabilizers, such as lithium carbonate. Often a depressive disorder manifests itself mainly in
somatic complaints such as tiredness, pains in the joints or in the back, headache, and not
being able to enjoy things in life (anhedonia).
13. Additionally, there is more of a reactive component to dysthymic disorder and thus reac-
tive depressions due to life events that have a negative impact on individuals also belong to
dysthymic disorder.
14. For a dysthymic disorder, antidepressants can be of use but a far better treatment is cog-
nitive behavioral therapy.
15. Also by routines or forms of behavior designed to potentially reduce anxiety.
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 15

leads to further anxiety and agitation.

PTSD relates to individuals who repeatedly relive and thus again experi-
ence a seriously traumatic event in their lives. Classic manifestations of this
disorder include individuals involved in major disasters and combat within
environments of war.

Somatoform Disorders
Somatoform disorders concern bodily complaints for which no somatic
(i.e. organic) origin can be traced, although there are unexplained symptoms,
complaints, and impairments. Somatoform disorders do not typically involve
a person in criminal activity.

Factitious Disorders
Factitious disorders involve causing or malingering somatic or mental
symptoms or complaints to give oneself the role of a patient. This disorder is
also known as Munchausen syndrome when an individual harms himself or
herself for this reason. Of particular relevance to criminal behavior is
Munchausen syndrome by proxy, which commonly involves harming next
of kin (typically a son or daughter) for the reason that the perpetrator uncon-
sciously likes to be acknowledged as a supporting and loving family member
or parent.

Dissociative Disorders
Dissociation in the context of dissociative disorders involves the separa-
tion of a person’s consciousness into two or more states. Thus, the individual
may be within a certain state of mind that is not perceptible and conscious-
ly accessible by the individual. Some of the dissociative disorders that may
be associated with criminal behavior include dissociative amnesia, dissocia-
tive fugue, depersonalization disorder, and dissociative identity disorder
(DID).
Dissociative amnesia is characterized by individuals who cannot remem-
ber one or more episodes of personal memory that are typically related to
traumatic or stressful events. A notable feature of dissociative amnesia is that
the manifested memory loss typically entails some type of important life
event to the individual and as such cannot be easily explained by mere for-
getfulness.
Dissociative fugue involves individuals who abruptly engage in travel far
away from their home or work, with an inability to remember their own past,
thus not knowing anymore who they are and from where they come.
Depersonalization disorder relates to individuals who experience persistent
16 Applied Criminal Psychology

and/or repetitive experiences of alienation from the world around them such
that they are an external observer of their own behavior as in a movie or
dream.
Finally, within the dissociative disorders is the rare condition currently
known as DID wherein a form of dissociation is believed to occur that gives
rise to the presence of two or more discernible identities or states of mind
within a single individual.16 These differing identities are able to influence
and regulate the individual’s behavior. Additionally, amnesia plays a role in
the manifestation of this disorder because one state (i.e. identity) or another
of the patient cannot remember the things he or she has done or thought.

Sexual Disorders and Gender Identity Disorders

Sexual disorders and gender identity disorders are only related to crimi-
nal behavior in so far as they can be the basis of abnormalities in sexual
behavior to the extent that the behavior is regarded as deviant and thus con-
trary to law. As far as we are currently aware, sexual dysfunctions (with the
exception of the paraphilias) do not have any clear significance to criminal
behavior.
Paraphilia involves recurrent, intense, sexually arousing fantasies, sexual
urges, or behavior that can involve nonhuman objects and suffering or
humiliation of oneself or another person, of children, and of other noncon-
senting persons. The object of the sexual desire is abnormal and thus is not
typically directed at another person but rather at a part of a person or on
other objects such as sexually appealing clothing, and so on. Some of the
commonly recognized forms of paraphilia are discussed below.17
Pedophilia: Where children, usually before puberty, are the objects of sex-
ual desire and sexual behavior. The sexual attraction does not neces-
sarily need to be gender specific and can be manifested toward either
boys or girls or both genders. If this behavior arises within a family, it
is termed “incest” and should be described as such.
Exhibitionism: Persistent and intense sexual feelings, urges, and deviant
behavior to expose one’s genitals to unsuspecting strangers.
Fetishism: Persistent intense sexual fantasies, urges, and behavior connected
with the fondling of inanimate objects.
Frotteurism: Sexually exciting fantasies, urges, and behavior by touching
and rubbing against somebody else without his or her consent.

16. This condition was formerly know as multiple personality disorder.

17. Paraphilia not otherwise specified is the classification for all other, typically rare, para-
philias such as necrophilia (i.e. sexual stimulation related to dead people), zoophilia (sexual
stimulation related to animals), etc.
 Mental Disorders and Criminal Behavior 17

Sexual masochism: Sexually arousing fantasies, urges, or behavior involv-

ing the act of being humiliated, beaten, or otherwise made to suffer.
Sexual sadism: Sexual excitement derived from the physical or psycholog-
ical suffering, or both, of a victim.
Transvestic fetishism: Sexual arousal is derived from wearing the clothes of
the other gender.
Voyeurism: Sexual arousal is attained from the act of observing an unsus-
pecting person who is naked, or disrobing, or engaging in a sexual
activity.
The fantasies inherent to paraphilias can best be understood through the
conceptualization of a sliding scale from normality through to pathology,
thus transgressing the social and criminal laws. For example, some behaviors
encapsulated within the domain of paraphilia are essentially accepted. One
case in point is sadomasochism as an adjunct to regular sexual activity,
another is when both partners engaging in the paraphilia have consensual
roles. For this reason, a second important criterion in understanding para-
philias is that they should cause significant suffering or impairment in social
or professional functioning or in functioning in other important domains of
life before diagnosis of such disorders. Accordingly, it is important to note
that the involvement of minors is strictly prohibited by the criminal law
because they are not able to have an opinion of their own in these matters.
Finally, in the context of the sexual and gender identity disorders, it is
therefore important to recognize that rape per se is not a mental disorder. It
can, however, be the consequence of a paraphilia or compulsive sexual
behavior.18 Sometimes individuals who commit rape may look to justify their
crime (i.e. defend their offense) by claiming or feigning a mental disorder
and in such circumstances a separate psychiatric/psychological examination
is necessary to determine the veracity of such claims and thus the presence
of any disorder.

Eating Disorders
Eating disorders such as anorexia and bulimia nervosa do not typically
have specific forensic relevance in terms of the manifestation of criminal
behavior.

Sleeping Disorders
Sleeping disorders do not typically have specific relevance in terms of
criminal behavior; however, they may accompany other disorders and can
18. Similarly, sexual addiction is not a medical concept but belongs to the category of com-
pulsive sexual behavior.
18 Applied Criminal Psychology

often be persistent in nature.

Impulse Control Disorders Not Elsewhere Classified

Impulse control disorders not elsewhere classified represents a discrete ca-
tegory within the DSM-IV and is composed of various disorders that share
some attributes with other DSM-IV disorders (e.g. subrelated disorders such
as paraphilias) but are sufficiently different such that they cannot be classi-
fied in other DSM categories. With respect to the manifestation of criminal
behavior some of the relevant disorders in this category include intermittent
explosive disorder (recurrent episodes of failure to resist aggressive impulses
resulting in damage to persons and property), kleptomania (the irresistible
impulse to steal), pyromania (the impulse to frequently light fires), patholog-
ical gambling (compulsive and repeat gambling to the extent of losing all
money, employment, and even friends) and trichotillomania (pulling out
one’s hair for relief of tension).

Adjustment Disorder
An adjustment disorder is discerned when an identifiable stressing factor
is apparent in the individual’s life that thereafter leads to impaired function-
ing (e.g. deterioration in the individual’s relationships in social life, work,
etc.). Adjustment disorder is distinguished by the need of a specific stress-
causing factor that gives rise to the disorder, and thus with the removal of this
stress factor, the adjustment disorder will also disappear.

CONCLUSION

This chapter attempts to provide the reader with a brief outline of the most
frequent DSM-IV Axis I mental disorders that may manifest themselves in
criminal behavior. When these mental disorders are restricted to mental phe-
nomenon only and are not acted upon in the form of crime, there is no trans-
gressing of the criminal law, although it should not be forgotten that these
symptoms can be persistent and lead increasingly to impairment and suffer-
ing if not diagnosed and treated.

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interactional perspective. In C. Cordess & M. Cox (Eds.), Forensic Psychotherapy, Crime,
Psychodynamics and the Offender Patient (pp. 37-45), London: Jessica Kingsley Publ.
van Marle, H.J.C. (2007) Het strafrechtelijk psychiatrisch gedragskundig onderzoek. In
B.C.M. Raes and F.A.M. Bakker (red.), De psychiatrie in het Nederlands recht. Deventer:
Kluwer, (5e druk).
Weiser, M., van Os, J., Reichenberg, A., Rabinowitz, J., Nahon, D., Kravitz, E., Lubin, G., et
al. (2007). Social and cognitive functioning, urbanicity and risk for schizophrenia. British
Journal of Psychiatry, 191, 320–324.
World Health Organization. (1992). The ICD-10 Classification of Mental and Behavioural
Disorders: Clinical Descriptions and Diagnostic Guidelines. Geneva: WHO.
 Chapter Two

ANTISOCIAL BEHAVIORS AND

PERSONALITY DISORDERS

GEORGE B. PALERMO

P ersonality is the totality of emotional and behavioral traits characterizing

an individual’s behavior in the daily manifestations of life. It is somewhat
predictable due to its relative stability; however, in the long run, and because
of the vicissitudes of life, it is an evolving construct. A personality is the out-
come of attitudes, interests, and needs that stem from a complex of uncon-
scious and conscious biological factors, psychological drives, and emotions
that form the self, unique and distinct from others, with its affectivity and
intelligence. These components are in a certain equilibrium that allows social
adaptability, self-esteem, and empathy, as well as a sense of responsibility
and sensible planning for the self and others, especially for one’s family. In
order to achieve such a harmonious self, the individual must overcome infan-
tile dependency needs, basic narcissism, and ambivalent attitudes toward the
important object relations of the early developmental period (parental fig-
ures). That will give him or her interpersonal stability and, in essence, fairly
good control of negative emotions.
The development of the personality, and later of character, is greatly det-
ermined by the way a young child resolves internal object relations and, in
later years, in adolescence and early adulthood, how he or she relates to and
incorporates parental models, and those of teachers and of other important
people in life encounters. It will also depend on the way the child deals with
peers and the influence of peers on the child.
As individuals move into the world, at different stages of maturation they
develop feelings, drives, and emotions and will attempt, successfully or not,
to repress their instincts. They will become aware of anger, fear, love, humil-

21
22 Applied Criminal Psychology

iation, joy, and disappointment. Such emotions will interplay within the self
as they relate to others, at times in a passive or aggressive manner, especial-
ly when their personality traits are dysfunctional. However, the person with
a normal personality will be able to control his or her negative emotions and
get along with others. It is only when the personality traits become exagger-
ated that the personality may become disjointed and what is termed a per-
sonality disorder can be observed. The behavior of persons suffering with a
personality disorder is pertinent to the discussion of personality, aggression,
and criminal manifestations and often, in the latter instance, in ascertaining
criminal responsibility.

OBJECT RELATIONS THEORY

The scholarly studies of object relations theorists, including Kohut (1971),

Klein (1935), Mahler (1972), Winnicott (2008), and Kernberg (1992), can be
of great benefit in order to better understand the origin of aggression toward
others. Kernberg is among the most influential object relations theorists in
the United States. Kernberg’s theory, influenced by Kohut and Klein and
also by Edith Jacobson, places a great deal of emphasis on “the splitting of
the ego, and on the elaboration of good and bad self-configuration and
object-configuration” (Kaplan, Sadock & Grebb, 1994, p. 256). According to
Kaplan, Sadock, and Grebb, the id is seen by Kernberg as made up of self-
images, object images, and their affects. In his theory, good and bad self-rela-
tionships and object relationships become associated with libido and aggres-
sion. It is on the basis of object relations’ good and bad dichotomy that an
individual’s drives are given birth. On that foundation, Kernberg described
the borderline personality organization, with its weak ego; primitive defense
mechanisms, such as splitting (good-bad) projective identification; and a ten-
dency to revert to primary process thinking. It is clear that his theory
addresses the underlying problem of those personality-disordered individu-
als who, because of a problematic childhood, are prone to aggression against
others, seeing in them those early images—bad images—that they have been
unable to properly resolve during their early development.
The theory of Kohut (1971) also may be helpful in understanding the
pathological personality and criminal behavior. For Kohut, during infancy,
the child is afraid of losing coveted relations with his or her mother and,
because of that fear, reverts to a grandiose self, to an alter ego, or to an ide-
alization of the mother. The grandiose tendency may turn into exhibitionism
and a tendency to idealize others. It is easy to understand how this may bring
about disappointment from others because of unreasonable expectations,
with all the consequences as far as aggression is concerned.
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 23

Winnicott (2008) was the central figure of the British school of object rela-
tions theory. His theory of multiple self-organizations included a true self,
which develops in the context of a responsive holding environment provid-
ed by a good-enough mother. However, according to Winnicott, after trau-
matic disruptive experiences, a false self emerges that monitors and adapts
to the conscious and unconscious needs of the mother and, in so doing, pro-
vides a protective exterior behind which the true self is afforded the privacy
that it requires to maintain its integrity. Transitional objects, Winnicott wrote,
such as a substitute mother, give a soothing sense of security. He viewed
impulsive deviant behavior as the way in which a child hopes to recapture a
primitive maternal relationship. Fenichel (1945) instead linked impulsive
behavior to attempts to master anxiety, guilt, depression, and painful affects
by means of actions, distorted aggression, or sexual gratification. All of these
theories are helpful in understanding the disturbed aggressive behavior of
those personality-disordered offenders who commit most of the antisocial
actions in society.

PERSONALITY DISORDERS

Personality disorders are enduring patterns of inner experience and

behavior that deviate markedly from the expectations of the individual’s cul-
ture and are pervasive and inflexible in quality. A personality disorder begins
in adolescence or early adulthood and leads to personal distress and social
impairment. The character traits, not only inflexible but also maladaptive,
are a variant of the normal that has gone beyond the range found in most
people. The symptoms are ego-syntonic and alloplastic, capable of adapting
and altering the external environment. Individuals diagnosed with a person-
ality disorder are not always disturbed by their symptoms and thus may not
complain about them; as a consequence, they do not ask for treatment unless
the personality disorder is very severe.
Most criminals are classifiable as suffering from some type of personality
disorder. Their criminal behavior has been defined as an intentional act that
is committed without defense or excuse in violation of the criminal law and
penalized by the law (Tappan, 1947). Basic to that behavior is impulsivity,
which can be observed in the severe personality disorders, especially the
antisocial personality disorder, the borderline personality disorder, the nar-
cissistic personality disorder, and the paranoid personality disorder. Among
the psychoses, the paranoid delusional type is more prone to cause an indi-
vidual to act out impulsively and suddenly. However, only a minimal per-
centage of psychotics, whether schizophrenic, bipolar, or delusional para-
noids, act out.
24 Applied Criminal Psychology

Many personality-disordered criminals are very young. Nevertheless,

their antisocial behavior is often that of a superpredator. Their “identikit”
shows “radically impulsive, brutally remorseless youngsters, [who] . . . do not fear the
stigma of arrest, the pain of imprisonment, or the pangs of conscience . . . [and for
whom] the words ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ have no fixed moral meaning” (Bennett,
DiTulio & Walters, 1996, p. 27). These are offenders whose behavior is moti-
vated by a profound disregard for societal rules, who try to manipulate oth-
ers while both in and out of jail or prison, and who generally display a macho
attitude out of fear. They are frequently illiterate, but streetwise. They often
abide by a group code of behavior, seemingly despising the social and moral
codes shared by their communities. On further scrutiny, they are found to be
repeat offenders and chronically irresponsible. Their character analysis
reveals hatred toward a nonexistent father and benevolent appraisal of a fre-
quently nongiving mother, an ambivalent image of a good-bad object—an
idealization of her—a previously frustrated longing for affection, and a mis-
guided rebellion against authority in general. Many have a poor educational
background, a lack of job training, or very scarce employment records. They
are often dysfunctional and frequently search for escapism through the nir-
vana of drugs and alcohol, all of which are important contributory factors in
their evolution as criminals.
The prison seems to be the right place for their unsolved emotional con-
flicts with their mother and father. It is in jail or prison that these young
offenders unconsciously behave according to “a pathological, perceptual
stance known as ‘splitting’” (Hofer, 1988, p. 99). This is a defense mecha-
nism, present in the antisocial personality, usually used, however, in order to
feel protected and nurtured despite real evidence to the contrary. As Hofer
well-described, the splitting is between “the affection directed toward a fan-
tasized, loving, perfect mother image and the aggression directed toward the
fantasized abandoning, all-bad father image” (p. 99). The prison allows the
inmates, especially the antisocial recidivist, to obtain, even though in a dis-
placed fashion, a certain amount of the nurturing they crave and the possi-
bility to ventilate their resentment toward the paternal authority figure who
let them down, displacing it onto the correctional institution guards.
Although many criminals with a personality disorder belong to a low eco-
nomic group and are without any basic training for a rewarding job in a com-
petitive society, economic poverty cannot be subscribed to as the only deter-
minant of their offensive behavior. In fact, as Bennett and colleagues wrote,
“Among all economic classes, including low income people and the poor, it
is the irritable, impulsive, and poorly socialized males who are most likely to
commit crimes” (1996, p .42). The question of moral poverty in these indi-
viduals should be raised. Is it the basis of their criminal acting out?
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 25

Just as the cognitive, intellectual self, with its moral and ethical structure,
is important in decision making, so the affective state of an individual, with
its variations, may influence human behavior. At times, fluctuations of a per-
son’s mood, not clearly pathological but limited to a feeling of sadness or joy,
may bring about changes in conduct in relation to the people within his or
her usual habitat. Occasionally, when this affective fluctuation becomes
greatly exaggerated and not controlled by the powers of objectivity, dis-
crimination, and the anticipation of future consequences, the individual may
not be strong enough to hold back the negative instinctual, impulsive drives.
Indeed, as can be seen again and again, among the characteristic traits of
individuals who commit crimes is an inability to exercise the effective will
power necessary to control their behavior when under the influence of
strong, instinctual negative emotions or alcohol and drugs.
In addition to the impulsivity found among the major personality charac-
teristics of the criminal are restlessness and hostility. A propensity to rage
and destructive violence are characteristic of many of them. That includes
the criminal’s proneness to rage following humiliation and guilt. Restlessness
is a frequent anticipatory sign of rage and violence in many offenders.
Frequently, it is during a moment of rage that individuals lose their objective,
discriminatory powers and self-control.
A sense of lost power or downright impotence is also often the basis of the
antisocial behavior of people with personality disorders. Many of them
offend because they feel powerless, overwhelmed by and unable to face up
to their duties and social demands. Their frustration brings about their act-
ing out. Their hostility may be directed toward the self—a self that is hated
because it is not responsive to what is demanded of it, a self that the offend-
er believes must have no value because no one seems to accept him or her,
a self that feels deeply rejected. Other characteristic traits of people with per-
sonality disorders who act in a criminal fashion are feelings of rejection, a
tendency to self- and outer-destructive behavior, and, especially in the so-
called psychopath, a lack of a sense of duty and justice. Obviously, previous
experiences in school and the family played an important part in the fore-
going.
Many criminals experience fluctuations of self-esteem and, more fre-
quently, exhibit low self-esteem. Not only do they feel inferior, but also their
conscience talks to them in derogatory ways, and they frequently pass nega-
tive judgments on themselves. A modicum of stable self-esteem is essential
in the development of a mature individual within a social context. Good self-
esteem can be viewed as a psychological vaccination against the ups and
downs of life; it is behind the capacity for resiliency to adversity. At times,
they experience sudden reactions—assertive reactions in self-defense—which
assume the typical stance of antisocial behavior. Fluctuations of self-esteem
26 Applied Criminal Psychology

in an upward manner may also bring about antisocial behavior in those indi-
viduals too proud of themselves, too sure of their capabilities, and inconsid-
erate of others and of the social consequences of their actions.
The most frequently diagnosed personality disorder in persons commit-
ting crimes is the antisocial personality disorder and its exaggerated form
psychopathy. Egoism, selfishness, a wish to control, and evilness are fre-
quently present in psychopathic personalities. They show a lack of remorse
for their offense and an amoral behavior. Reich (1990) defined psychopathic
offenders as impulsive characters. Alexander (1948) called them neurotic
characters and classified them as the primary psychopath and the sympto-
matic psychopath. The primary, or smaller, group is characterized by amor-
al behavior, lack of conscience, deficient superego, lack of anxiety, possibly
violent aggression, and often sadism in their criminal behavior. Others de-
scribed them just as psychopathic personalities (Abrahamsen, 1952). Psycho-
paths may also suffer from schizophrenia. Sellin (1972) cited studies showing
that the criminal psychopath is more likely than the criminal nonpsychopath
to have committed serious violent assaults and property crimes. He reported
that psychological studies showed that violent psychopaths exhibit more
impulsive tendencies and more aggressivity than the symptomatic psy-
chopath (in Palermo, 2004).
Alexander also stated, as did Freud, that the psychopaths are a group of
offenders “who engage in antisocial behavior in order to achieve punishment
at the hands of the law . . . [because] they have intense guilt feelings over
some deeply buried early life experiences” (Guttmacher, 1972, p. 298). They
are often tortured individuals, easily apprehended because of clumsy, stupid
crimes. Psychopaths may suffer from paranoia and their ego may be over-
whelmed by primitive, aggressive, criminal drives. Arieti (1967) subdivided
the psychopathic states into the pseudopsychopathic and the idiopathic,
attributing the psychopath’s impulsivity and desire for immediate gratifica-
tion to his attempt to overcome unbearable inner tension due to short-cir-
cuited anxiety. He asserted that when the paranoid psychopath is prevented
from acting out, for instance by imprisonment or hospitalization, the indi-
vidual becomes more paranoid. Karpman (cited in Wilson & Hernstein,
1985, p. 206) reported that idiopathic psychopaths are less prone to fear,
anxiety, or guilt, whereas secondary psychopaths show symptomatic anxiety,
and their behavior is frequently accompanied or motivated by emotional dis-
turbance.
The decisional capacity in offenders diagnosed with a severe personality
disorder is generally impaired; even though they apparently seem to func-
tion normally, they usually reach a decision too rapidly. Strong unsublimat-
ed impulses may be disruptive. Wilson and Hernstein (1985) wrote,
“Impulsiveness can be thought of as either the cause or the effect of the poor
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 27

conditionability of the psychopath” (p. 204) and “without the internal mono-
logue, time horizons shrink; behavior becomes more tied to its immediate
consequences” (p. 205). In fact, it is the quick decision making that is the
expression of the lack of reflection before acting that is usually found in the
antisocial personality disorder or psychopath. Self-control is essential for a
person’s achievements after he or she properly channels impulses without
giving vent to unbridled impulsivity.
Impulses were viewed by Nietzsche, for example, as important in a per-
son’s behavior. He believed that “a man without impulses [interests] could
not do the good or create the beautiful any more than a castrated man could
beget children” (Kaufmann, 1974, p. 244). Nevertheless, impulses need con-
trol, and Nietzsche viewed the man who is in control of his passions as pow-
erful, able to organize the chaos, and able to give style to his character. He
believed that the passionate person who is able to master his or her passions
would also be a good, intuitive, and creative individual. He viewed the man
who strives for power over others through bullying and criminal activity as
a weak person, deeply frustrated. The man who imposes restraints on him-
self is not only “a ‘rational’ animal, but also a ‘moral’ animal” (Kaufmann,
1974, p. 213). The two are inseparable. Baruk (cited in DiTullio, 1960) viewed
the total lack of moral values, visible in the true psychopathic offender, as
“one of the worst calamities that can affect a human being, because of its per-
sonal and social consequences” (p. 41). In assessing the characteristic traits of
these offenders it can be observed that they often lack self-criticism in regard
to their criminal acting out. Kaufmann (1974) stated that their offenses are not
only irrational but also intrinsically immoral because their impulsivity under-
mines their critical reflection.
In order to appreciate the workings of the mind of those criminals suffer-
ing from personality disorders, character and temperament should be con-
sidered. The ideas of Boven (cited in DiTullio, 1960) are interesting for the
understanding of human behavior. Boven’s belief was that individuals tend
to overcome their biological selves throughout their lifetime. He viewed
character as the result of a struggle among the lower instinctive, vegetative,
and attitudinal strata; the egocentric forces of the central stratum; and the
higher stratum, which comprises the intelligence and the will power. DiTullio
(1960), an Italian psychiatrist, stated that individuals tend to develop their
character on the basis of their natural instinctive and affective propensities,
aided in their maturation by the environment and education, leading to habit
patterns that become an intrinsic part of their daily activities.
Character is the composite of distinctive qualities formed by mental and
ethical traits that, stimulated by an individual’s emotional sensitivity and
habitual mode of reaction, give to each one’s personality its dynamism. It is
the personality in action, and is due to the temperamental propensity of the
28 Applied Criminal Psychology

individual. It is the outcome of life experiences; togetherness; of give and

take; and a conscious or unconscious adaptation of id and ego tendencies to
the social dictates or appropriate modes of practical, moral, and ethical
behavior when confronted with choices. Absence of character is usually
found behind much senseless crime, and the knowledge of the personality
traits shared by many nonpsychotic criminals is fundamental for the under-
standing of the criminal behavior that relegates any person to a jail or prison.
Sheldon (1942), well-known for his biotypology (endo-, meso- or ecto-
morphic body types), which he considered fixed elements of a personality,
stressed the importance of human temperament, which adds a dynamic com-
ponent to the personality itself. Verdun (cited in DiTullio, 1960) stressed the
interaction among environment, constitution, and temperament. His empha-
sis on the importance of the neurovegetative system and its excitability as the
basis of human behavior and human emotions anticipated the present-day
neurotransmitter hypothesis in normal and disorderly conduct. Such theories
lead one to consider the possible predisposition to criminal behavior of
many personality-disordered offenders and to the theory that, during the past
fifty years, has attributed such behavior mostly to negative environmental
factors, since many offenders seem to be recalcitrant to change, even though
attempts have been made to change their environmental conditions. The
pendulum of nature versus nurture as the basis of human conduct seems to
be more on the side of nature.
Gemelli and Zunini (1949) recognized the importance of personality traits
and attitudinal disposition in the formation of character. They believed in the
plasticity and variability of character and subscribed to the idea that charac-
ter is the outcome of an interplay of traits, attitudes, and stimuli in a given
moment for a given individual. They believed that, although a person’s
hereditary or organic personality traits are important, education is basic to
the manifestation of human conduct. They posited that an individual without
education and lacking a notion of morality cannot be considered a mature
being because without them the basic self has not evolved to a level of
acceptable adaptation to society. Many present-day offenders drop out of
school around the tenth or twelfth grade, often displaying only an elemen-
tary school level of knowledge, and they exhibit a distinct lack of a moral
sense, seemingly confirming the ideas of Gemelli and Zunini.
As throughout past centuries, the common criminal today lacks a mature
personality and his or her behavior is primarily driven by instinctual drives,
drives that in the noncriminal are usually sublimated, channeled toward
more acceptable behavior. Lack of education, and not of basic intellectual
endowment, and the lack of exposure to the sociomoral values shared by the
community at large have not allowed the psychological self of the future
criminal to acquire that sociocivic sense of responsibility that allows one to
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 29

live in the human consortium.

In fact, crime can be seen as a psychobiological social phenomenon.
Offenders give a clue to their criminal character through the type of offense.
This is the reason why crimes have been described as essentially aggressive
(e.g. murder, robbery, and rape) or passive-aggressive in nature (e.g. bur-
glary, forgery, arson, etc.) or as essentially related to psychophysiological
stress (e.g. sexual crimes, pedophilia, indecencies in public, exhibitionism).
Can one perceive the personality of the offender from his or her crime?
Toch (1969) thought that “we should be able to reconstruct the man from a
sample of his violent acts” (p. 133), and he formulated a typology of the vio-
lence-prone individual, and Bromberg (1965) took into consideration the
personality characteristics of the offenders from a psychiatric and psycho-
logical point of view. Bromberg listed various types of offenders: the aggres-
sive (antisocial, released by alcohol, or a reaction to feelings of inferiority),
the emotionally unstable, the unethical (criminal type), the maladjusted ado-
lescent, and the immature adult type. Among the latter, the egocentric, inad-
equate, shiftless, suggestible, adynamic, or dull types stand out. Bromberg
further proposed the interesting classification of the nomadic type—unat-
tached, schizoid to a degree—and the primitive type, whose behavior is sim-
ple and instinctive (1965, p. 86). Among adjusted individuals he included
those “adjusted to a low cultural level with its own ideologies and mores” and
“those obviously maintaining a relationship to the so-called stable world” (p.
86). His first category of so-called adjusted individuals is quite interesting and
is reminiscent of those groups described as belonging to the specific subcul-
ture of violence.
Necessary conditions for persons with personality disorders or psychotics
to act out lie in the vicissitudes of the life instinct, the fate of affects, and the
state of ego-consciousness. Frequently, they are socially isolated, but they
may become members of groups in an attempt to overcome their feelings of
inadequacy and low self-esteem, as is the case with many young people who
join gangs. However, many feel isolated even in the presence of others and
have a low capacity for interpersonal interaction. Often, they live in a fanta-
sy world and are reactively depressed. It may be that their depression origi-
nated in their infancy, because many of them grew up in a dysfunctional fam-
ily, with the absence of parents, especially the nurturing mother. These psy-
chologically weak individuals, because they are affected by either severe per-
sonality disorders or a psychotic personality disorder, usually untreated,
under the effect of an unbearable affect of guilt or humiliation, suffer ego
decompensation, and their unconscious repressed pathological complexes
surface and lead them to serious antisocial behaviors, even murder.
The major and severe personality disorders involved in crimes are bor-
30 Applied Criminal Psychology

derline personality disorder, paranoid personality disorder, schizoid person-

ality disorder, antisocial personality disorder, narcissistic personality disor-
der, sadistic personality disorder, and the schizotypal personality disorder;
each of which will now be discussed.

Borderline Personality Disorder

Even though the borderline personality disorder is an integral part of the
personality disorder classification, it is questionable whether it is an autono-
mous entity. The characteristics of this personality disorder, according to
Gunderson and Singer in their seminal study (1975), were intense depressive
or hostile affectivity, impulsivity, mild to moderate social adaptation, brief
psychotic episodes, a tendency to disorganization in unstructured situations,
and superficial or very dependent relationships. Persons with borderline per-
sonality disorder have a weak ego. Their symptomatology is diverse. They
may go through sudden mood changes, such as anger, depression, anhedo-
nia, sense of futility, loneliness, and isolation. Their behavior is marginal and
transient, and their interpersonal relationships appear to be good only on the
surface. They seem unable to control their impulses due to their sudden psy-
chotic thinking because of internal and external stress. At times, they suffer
from transitory and fleeting hallucinations or delusions. Their personality
disorder can be summarized as stably unstable.
It is important to realize that the psychotic experiences of the borderline-
personality individual are ego-dystonic, because the person does not recog-
nize them as part of the self. Their disorder is reminiscent of what Deutsch
(Kaplan et al., 1994) stated regarding the “as if” personality. Indeed, the
essential characteristics of borderline personality–disordered individuals are
that outwardly they conduct their lives “as if” they were essentially normal
and in control of the self. Because they often have acceptable social behav-
ior, and function fairly well in social activities, it is sometimes difficult to
make an accurate diagnosis. Their reality testing is quite faulty; they are high-
ly vulnerable to stress and emotionally unbalanced. Their inability to test
reality and to contain their impulsivity, which at times motivates their con-
duct, is a mixture of depressive and delusional symptoms and is difficult to
predict. In these persons, a psychotic breakdown may take the form of an
acute schizoaffective disorder, a break with reality due to intense feelings of
depression. The antisocial acting out of some adolescents at times seems to
be the forerunner of a prepsychotic borderline state. It may be akin to a psy-
chofunctional disorder of the mind, almost a necessary transitional period
prior to achieving a stability of the personality. During this highly unstable
period, one can observe in the adolescent’s behavior the intermingling of
two worlds: the real and the psychotic.
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 31

Kernberg (1992) distinguished three stages in the personality borderline

organization. In the first stage, the individual still possesses fairly discreet
reality testing, with an absence of delusions or hallucinations, and an ability
to differentiate the self from the nonself. The second stage is the identity dif-
fusion syndrome (feelings of emptiness, an inability to react well to others),
and the third stage is that in which primitive defense mechanisms are resort-
ed to. These include splitting—in which feelings of ambivalence divide peo-
ple into good and bad—projective identification, feelings of omnipotence,
denial, idealization, and devaluation.
In patients with borderline personality organization, wrote Kernberg,
“projective identification weakens the ability to differentiate the self from
external objects by producing an interchange of character with the object, so
that something internally intolerable now appears to be coming from outside
. . . [and] tends to diminish the reality testing” (1992, p. 196).

Paranoid Personality Disorder

The prevalence of the paranoid personality disorder varies from 0.5 per-
cent to 2.5 percent in the general population (Kaplan, et al., 1994). The main
characteristics of persons with this disorder are chronic suspiciousness and
general mistrust. They displace onto others their own shortcomings and
responsibilities. Often hostile, irritable, and angry, they rarely seek treatment
on their own, being convinced that there is nothing wrong with them. They
are usually forced into treatment by family members or the courts, which
they resent, and in situations in which such forced treatment is being sought,
they are bright enough and able enough to put on a normal facade. They
show pathological jealousy, extreme litigiousness, and, under stress, many
become clearly delusional and paranoid. At those times they should be con-
sidered not responsible for any antisocial actions, because they are unable to
conform to the requirements of the law due to a misperception of the behav-
iors and intentions of others. In essence, the basic problem with their think-
ing is that they interpret the actions or demeanors of others as threatening,
exploitative, or harmful to themselves. They even mistrust family members,
friends, and associates. The mechanism of defense used by them is projec-
tion: they project onto others feelings that they harbor but that they are
unable or willing to accept—It’s not me. It’s you! Often, they suffer from ideas
of reference and illusions. They are cautious and somewhat distant in their
interpersonal relationships. In their professional endeavors, they are effi-
cient, but their expectations of themselves, and especially of others, create
interpersonal difficulties. Nevertheless, they claim to be rational and objec-
tive, and, as Shakespeare would say, they protest too much in their attempt
to prove it. They have a tendency to be grandiose, to have superiority feel-
32 Applied Criminal Psychology

ings, and to disdain the weak, the sickly, and passive individuals. That may
be the precursor of paranoia, a psychotic condition, or of a schizophrenic
type of psychosis. It may occur because, having a fragile ego structure, they
often react to stress in a catastrophic manner.
Individuals with this type of personality disorder are rigid, tense, and
unable to relax. In their daily life they are so cautious and suspicious that
they seem to search the environment for clues or criticism from others that
they misinterpret as being directed at undermining them. This behavior may
be reminiscent of the monomania of Esquirol, the persecutory delirium of La
Segue, or the slow cognitive delusional disorder of Kahlbaum and Kraepelin
(in DiTullio, 1960). The thinking of persons with this type of a personality
disorder is seemingly logical. The conclusions they reach, however, are
faulty because of incorrect initial premises, and their cognitive distortions are
quite evident when they lose control.

Schizoid Personality Disorder

The schizoid personality disorder shows a lifelong pattern of social with-
drawal. Individuals suffering from it are usually introverted and lonely.
Their affect is constricted, and they isolate themselves because of the dis-
comfort felt in social interactions. They appear to be cold, aloof, distant, un-
sociable, unemotional, and uninvolved. They frequently hold lonely non-
competitive jobs and lack an intimate life. They have difficulty in expressing
anger. They often involve themselves with astronomy, philosophy, mathe-
matics, and dietary health fads. They are in touch with reality but do a great
deal of daydreaming and entertain fantasies of omnipotence. This type of
personality disorder is not uncommon, reportedly affecting 7.5 percent of the
general population, with a male to female ratio of two to one (Kaplan, et al.,
1994).
Even though the schizoid personality disorder is fairly stable, at times
those who suffer from it move into a schizophrenic breakdown, from which
they usually go into remission. Some scholars believe that this personality
disorder is a prodromal phase of schizophrenia.

Antisocial Personality Disorder and Psychopathy

Even though the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (4th ed., text revision)
(DSM-IV-TR) (American Psychiatric Association [APA], 2002) includes
under antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) some of the basic characteris-
tics of the psychopathic personality, the consensus is that a distinction should
be made between the two. Most persons with ASPD can be viewed as reac-
tors to social stresses, whereas the psychopaths are “real” actors. The char-
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 33

acteristics of the latter, as reported by Hare (1993), who seems to retrace

Cleckley’s (1955) definitions of the psychopath, are that a psychopath is a
self-centered, callous, and remorseless person, profoundly lacking in empa-
thy with an inability to form warm relationships with others, a person who
functions without the restraint of a conscious self. The untreatability and the
recidivism of the psychopath are well-known. The concept of psychopathy
dates back to the time of Lombroso (1889), with his characterization of the
so-called born criminal, and Pinel, with his emphasis on the lack of morals
in offenders.
Many authors have stressed the etiology of psychopathy, presenting it, for
example, as congenital, biological, personal, and environmental (Arrigo &
Shipley, 2001). Pinel considered the psychopath to be mentally ill, in need of
moral treatment, suffering from a manie sans delire. Rush (1812) proposed
organic causes for psychopathy, which he considered a disease. Prichard
(1835) described it as a disorder of a person’s feelings and attitudes, without
involvement of higher mental faculties but with a predisposition to behave as
a morally insane person. In 1891, Koch, coined the term psychopathic infe-
rior, which he considered to be a hereditary disease with emotional and
moral aberrations and abnormal behaviors. Maudsley (1898), as well, con-
sidered the psychopath to be suffering from moral imbecility due to cerebral
dysfunctions. Von Krafft-Ebing (1922) referred to these persons as savages
and believed that they should be kept isolated in mental asylums for their
own sake and that of society. Kraepelin (1915) described them as liars and
manipulators who employed charm and glibness but were impulsive and
remorseless.
It was Cleckley (1955), however, who in his seminal work The Mask of
Sanity made a distinction between the psychopath who ends up in jail and
the one who does not, describing them as grandiose, arrogant, callous, super-
ficial, and manipulative. The latter, he believed, keeps a far better and more
consistent appearance of being normal. His distinction between the ordinary
criminal and the psychopath still holds true. He believed that the first pos-
sessed purposive behavior and his aims are well-understood by the average
person, even though not accepted and shared with him. “The criminal, in
short, is usually trying to get something we all want, though he uses methods
we shun,” he wrote (1955, p. 292). Ordinary criminals are consistent and per-
sistent in conniving in order to reach their own ends and are aware of the
possible legal consequences of their actions. They are shrewd in their plan-
ning and in their attempt to avoid being apprehended.
Cleckley pointed out the recidivistic tendencies of psychopaths in the
commission of their crimes. He added that psychopathic conduct “varies in
severity from a mild or borderline degree up through a great degree of dis-
ability” (1955, p. 279). Many paranoid characters show antisocial behavior as
34 Applied Criminal Psychology

well. He postulated that persons diagnosed with an ASPD or a psychopath-

ic disorder have “a genuine and often a very serious disability” (p. 422). He
added that “to say that this is merely queer or perverse or in some border-
line state between health and illness does little or nothing to account for the
sort of behavior he demonstrates objectively and obviously.”
In the psychopaths, we are confronted, as Cleckley says, with a mask of
sanity, and “all the outward features of this mask are intact. . . . The thought
processes retain their normal aspect under psychiatric investigation and also
in technical testing . . . An example of la folie lucid,” while their expressions,
tone of voice, and general demeanor seem normal, but they fail “altogether
when [they are] put into the practice of actual living.” Their “failure is so
complete and so dramatic that it is difficult to see how such a failure could
be achieved by anything less than a downright madman, or by one who is
totally or almost totally unable to grasp emotionally the major components
of meanings or feelings implicit in the thoughts which he expresses or the
experiences [they appear] to go through” (p. 124). Their distorted affectivity,
their tragic persistence in their antisocial behavior, their inability to learn
from their mistakes bespeaks a profound childish immaturity that causes
them to move, without reflection, from thought to action, without appraising
and discerning what type of decision they should make and act upon. “Our
concept of the psychopath’s functioning,” says Cleckley, “postulates a selec-
tive defect . . . which prevents important components of normal experience
from being integrated into the whole human reaction, particularly an elimi-
nation or attenuation of those strong effective components that ordinarily
arise in major personal and social issues” (1955).
The emotions of a psychopath are just pseudoemotions. They use a pan-
tomime of feelings. They are full of rationalizations, their judgment is poor,
and their sense of value is almost nonexistent. Their outward behavior seems
to be the outcome of a deeply distorted inner personality, akin to a schizo-
phrenic process, at times largely concealed by good reasoning and their abil-
ity to go through life in a quasi-sane manner. After years of socially restrict-
ed but apparently not psychotic lives, a few psychopaths commit murder or
carry out other tragic misdeeds “for which they show little evidence of
remorse or other adequate and understandable reactions” (Cleckley, 1955, p.
437). Generally, the psychopaths’ masks are very deceptive. They show no
obvious signs of traditional psychotic behavior, yet they manifest a conduct
not less serious than that of a schizophrenic. Inwardly, they harbor an “inca-
pacity to react with sufficient seriousness to achieve much more than pseu-
do-experience or quasi experience” (p. 437). Often they seem to belong to
those disorders classically thought of as psychoses, which appear in varying
degrees of severity.
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 35

Macdonald (1961) described the psychopath as lacking “the capacity to

‘feel’ with others and devoid of affection, callous and cynical . . . egocentric
and immature” (p. 247), adding that “their impulsivity and intolerance of
frustration may lead to repeated antisocial acts” (p. 248). However, “antiso-
cial personalities may often be quite successful in whatever their chosen pro-
fessional activity. They may have paradoxically reached their position of suc-
cess, power, and wealth by ruthless exploitation of others”(Stoudemire, 1994,
p. 186).
Psychopaths are usually of average or above average intelligence, have an
apparent lack of guilt and remorse, and do not learn from experience. They
show a great deal of “impulsivity as manifested by frequent physical fights
and abusive behavior . . . [and] encounters with the law and other authorities
are frequent, . . . in repetitive criminal behavior” (Stoudemire, 1994, p. 186).
Alexander and Ross (1952) believed that the presence of unconscious con-
flicts could be expressed in the symptomatic behavior of the psychopath’s
irrationality, stereotyped repetitive behavior and self-destructive tendencies.
They thought that “the actual crime, . . . is often a substitute for incestuous
or patricidal impulses” (p. 133).
Halleck (1967) thought that “the psychopath is an activist, who in his
efforts to suit the world to his own needs often finds that it is necessary to vio-
late the law” (p. 109). The same type of behavior, cunning and goal directed,
can be observed in the paranoid, with variations in the clinical manifesta-
tions along the paranoid spectrum. Other authors (Reichard & Tillman, in
Macdonald, 1961) suggested that, when lacking an understandable motive, a
murder committed by a psychopath with paranoid tendencies represents “an
attempted defense against the outbreak of a schizophrenic psychosis, in
which the ego seeks to protect itself from disintegration by discharging unas-
suageable anger through an act of violence” (p. 115). Often, these psy-
chopaths are sentenced to repeated terms in prison or even life terms.
Arieti (1967) subdivided the psychopathic states into the pseudopsycho-
pathic and the idiopathic. He attributed the psychopath’s impulsivity and his
desire for immediate gratification to an attempt to overcome unbearable
inner tension due to short-circuited anxiety. He “is unable to change, repress,
postpone or neutralize his need for hostility,” he stated (p. 248), and his act-
ing out may be in the form of murder, rape, seduction in men, or promiscu-
ity and prostitution in women. More important and relevant to this discus-
sion, however, is Arieti’s reflection on the paranoid psychopath. While point-
ing out that psychopathic traits or behavior “generally preceded a definite
paranoiac symptomatology, or, in some cases, periods of acting out with no
freely expressed delusions alternate with obvious delusional periods,” he
suggested that, most probably, “when the paranoid psychopath is prevented
36 Applied Criminal Psychology

from acting out, for instance, by imprisonment or hospitalization, he

becomes more paranoid” (1967, p. 248).

Narcissistic Personality Disorder

People who suffer from a narcissistic personality disorder show a height-
ened sense of self-importance and grandiose feelings, considering themselves
to be special and deserving of special treatment. They have a sense of enti-
tlement and handle criticism poorly. They are ambitious and wish to be
famous, are strongly exhibitionistic, almost demanding admiration. At the
same time, they are selfish and exploitative. Their relationships are superfi-
cial and they do not show empathy for others. They refuse to obey conven-
tional rules. They are vulnerable to middle-life crises. Their judgment is not
objective. They seem to exhibit the so-called “mirror hunger” of Kohut and
Wolf (1978). When they are frustrated, their manipulative personalities may
explode in a narcissistic rage. They are egocentric, like a child, and when
they do not achieve their expectations they fall into a state of inner empti-
ness.
Various theories of behavior can be considered in the attempt to under-
stand malignant narcissism. Kohut (1971) hypothesized that a narcissistic
trauma suffered by the child during the process of individuation prevents
him or her from taming the archaic, grandiose, and exhibitionistic self nec-
essary for wholesome development. Originally described by Freud, narcis-
sism was later subdivided by Kohut into primary and secondary narcissism.
Primary narcissism is seen as the investment of libidinal energy in the
achievement of object love, empathy, and possible creativity; secondary nar-
cissism is the withdrawing of the original psychic libidinal energy from
objects back to the ego. This latter mechanism seems to be present in the psy-
chodynamics of serial killers. They are not only pathologically narcissistic
but also unrealistically grandiose, and their exaggerated self-importance is
very fragile and sensitive to shame. Narcissistic tendencies, part of the
grandiose self are often present in the serial killer.

Sadistic Personality Disorder

People suffering with a sadistic personality disorder show a pervasive pat-
tern of cruel, demeaning, and aggressive behavior. They have a tendency to
inflict pain on others or to humiliate others. They are fascinated by violence,
weapons, injury, and torture. When sexually aroused, they become para-
philic and sexually sadistic.

During the eighteenth century, the erotic and licentious writings of the lib-
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 37

ertine Marquis de Sade (Pauvert, 1965) shocked the world with their descrip-
tions of cruel sadistic violence and unbound perverted lust. De Sade believed
that instincts are the motivating force in life and that pleasure is the most
important goal for which one should aim. Years later, in 1869, von Krafft-
Ebing coined the term sadism, and the term acquired the meaning of a sex-
ual perversion in which the pervert forced physical or moral suffering on the
subject of his or her sexual attraction, deriving sexual pleasure from his or
her actions. The infliction of pain seems to be part of the complete mastery
of another person. The most radical aim of a sadistic act is to make the per-
son suffer, since there is no greater power over another person than inflict-
ing pain. Nevertheless, it has been hypothesized that rather than to express
cruelty in and of itself, the object of sadism is to procure strong emotions
(MacCulloch, Snowden, Wood & Mills, 1983).
Brittain’s seminal work in 1970 laid the foundation for a possible typology
of a sexual sadist, and his description is that which fits some present-day
sadistic murderers. He described the sadist as a secretive male individual
who is generally nonviolent in everyday life but obsessive, insecure, and nar-
cissistic, a loner with a rich fantasy life. He believed that the sexual sadist cre-
ates sadistic scenes in his fantasies that he later acts out in his killings. This
type of killer is single, his perversion starts early in life, he exhibits an inter-
est in pornography, and he is excited by cruelty. Brittain’s description of the
sexual sadistic murderer is reminiscent of the serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer
who, a typical charming psychopath, behaved well even on apprehension,
but hidden behind his calm and socialized appearance were destructive sex-
ual fantasies of a possible psychotic nature.
Many of the fantasies found in the serial killer, as stated earlier, are sadis-
tic sexual fantasies. Most of these offenders are eventually diagnosed with
severe personality disorders. It can be theorized that the behavior of the
sadistic, power- and control-driven serial killer reflects the conduct of a curi-
ous child in the demolition of his toys. Sexual fantasies, at times violent in
type, are also present in juvenile offenders and, when frequent, may degen-
erate into sadistic sexual fantasies. In such cases they may be the forerunner
of homicidal acting out. According to MacCulloch and colleagues (1983),
sadistic sexual fantasies have their origins at the time of traumatic episodes,
such as sexual or physical abuse during early childhood. It has been theo-
rized that the sadist may suffer from an arrest of psychosexual development,
possibly at the anal stage (the anal-sadistic stage), or from a neurotic regres-
sion to that level. Fantasies of rape or murder were found in 86 percent of
the cases of adults in one study of serial sexual homicide conducted by
Prentky and colleagues (1989). Similarly, Warren and colleagues (1996)
found evidence of violent fantasies in 80 percent of their cases. The impor-
38 Applied Criminal Psychology

tant role of sadistic fantasies, especially repetitive masturbatory fantasies, in

these killers was emphasized by MacCulloch and colleagues (1983), and that
of daydreaming and compulsive masturbation was reported by Prentky and
colleagues(1989), and by others.
Although Freud (1960) first viewed sadistic drives as primary instincts
camouflaged by the drive to dominate, he later came to believe that sadism
is the excessive outward manifestation of the death instinct. The gratuitous
cruelty of sadism is possible because of insufficient control by the basic
mechanism of defense.

Schizotypal Personality Disorder

Persons with schizotypal personality disorders are strikingly odd or
strange, even to lay persons. They entertain magical thinking, bizarre ideas,
ideas of reference, suspiciousness or paranoid ideation, and illusions and
may have derealization feelings. The diagnosis is based on their peculiar
thinking, their unusual way of communicating with others, and their gener-
ally strange behavior. They lack close friends, and their manner of speech
frequently needs interpretation. Under stress, they become depressed or may
fully decompensate into frank psychotic symptomology of brief duration.

NEUROPSYCHOLOGICAL AND NEUROIMAGING STUDIES

Pertinent to this discussion, scientists and criminologists are presently of

the opinion that biopsychological factors may contribute to the understand-
ing of criminal behavior. Redding (2006) wrote that “neuropsychological
studies show that the prevalence rate of brain dysfunction among the crimi-
nal population is extremely high, with prevalence rates of ninety-four per-
cent among homicide offenders, sixty-one percent habitually aggressive
adults, forty-nine to seventy-eight percent among sex offenders, and seven-
ty-six percent among juvenile offenders (by comparison, the prevalence rate
in the general population is only three percent)” (p. 57). Most of these of-
fenders belong to the diagnostic category of personality disorders. Diamond
(1994), a well-known forensic psychiatrist, writing about people suffering
from severe personality disorders stated, “Their appearance of normalcy,
their apparent ability to exercise free will, choice, and decision (and some-
how invariably choose the wrong instead of the right) is purely a facade, an
artifact that conceals the extent they are victims of their own brain patholo-
gy” (p. 257). At the same time, and that was fourteen years ago, he ventured
1. The following studies seem to offer support for the previous statements: The Vietnam
Veteran Head Injury Study examined aggressive behavior in 279 Vietnam War veterans with
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 39

the following prediction: “Within ten years, biochemical and physiological

tests will be developed that will demonstrate beyond a reasonable doubt that
a substantial number of our worst and most vicious criminal offenders are
actually the sickest of all” (p. 257).1 Indeed, Redding (2006) reported that
“[i]ndividuals with extensive frontal lobe damage may develop episodic
dyscontrol characterized by rage attacks in response to minimal provocation.
. . . [T]he dyscontrol may lead to unplanned homicide, assaults, spousal and
child abuse, reckless driving. . .” (p. 66).
To detect these dysfunctions, neuropsychologists employ various tests,
including the Maze Tests and the Bender-Gestalt test, the Twenty Question
Test, and the Tinker toyTM test. These tests elicit dysfunctions of conceptual
thinking, reasoning, abstraction, and problem solving. The Wisconsin Card
Sorting Test (WCST) and the Halstead Category Test evaluate concept for-
mation, hypothesis testing, problem solving and flexibility of thinking. Block
Designs and Puzzles tests check verbal reasoning, interpretation, perceptual
reasoning, sequential reasoning, and problem solving. Many of these tests
require choices and making a decision.
When people confront a social choice or decision making, they call on the
neurocortical system, the evolutionary modern sector of the brain, which, as
Damasio (1994) stated, “handles basic biological regulations . . . while up
above the neocortex deliberates with wisdom and subtleties” (p. 128). In a
study by Raine, Buchsbaum, and LaCasse (1997) performed on the brains of
convicted murderers, the positron emissionion tomography (PET) scan
found abnormalities in the prefrontal cortex, with an 11 percent reduction in
the gray matter of the brain. These and other structural and functional abnor-
malities, especially in the frontal and temporal brain regions, have been
found to be associated with violence, especially in those persons with a
severe personality disorder—those most frequently involved in crime.
Although these offenders are not clinically psychotic, their neuroimaging
brain findings may show similarities to those found in psychotics. Thus, it
can be opined that at times their sudden criminal acting out is basically psy-
chotic in nature; that is also supported by underlying structural and func-
tional disruptive activity of their brains. The changes found in persons with
frontal lobe lesions with 57 noninjured veterans as controls. It found that the brain-injured vet-
erans were more aggressive; 20 percent became aggressive right after the injury. Fourteen per-
cent were violent (Grafman et al., 1996); The Prison Inmate Study reported that 73 percent of
the brain-injured inmates had committed crimes of violence compared to 28 percent of those
not injured (Bryant, Scott & Golden, 1984); A study by Raine and colleagues (2001) found that
psychopathic and violent offenders had structural/functional abnomalities in frontal lobes.
Also, on PET scans less frontal lobe activity was found, along with low-volume prefrontal gray
matter and excessive activity of the amygdala and hippocampus.
2. Goldberg (2001) asserted that a new legal construct, such as “the inability to guide one’s
behavior despite the availability of requisite knowlege,” may better serve the individual with
a dysfunctional frontal lobe in a court of law (p. 149).
40 Applied Criminal Psychology

a personality disorder appear to be of the same quality but of somewhat less

quantity than those found in schizophrenics. Although knowing the differ-
ence between right and wrong, many of these individuals cannot translate
their knowledge into effective inhibitions (Goldberg, 2001).2 This appears to
be more evidence that personality disorders may be an early stage of psy-
chotic illness. At the same time, the quality of personality disturbances prob-
ably influences the predisposition, manifestation, course and treatment of
many Axis I conditions. The previous discussion is important in the assess-
ment of offenders suffering from personality disorders.

NEUROIMAGING IN BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER

Various investigators have found that the impulsive aggression of persons

diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder is most probably the con-
sequence of a disruption of the emotional modulation circuits. These circuits
include parts of the brain such as the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC), the
orbital frontal cortex (OFC), the ventromedial prefrontal cortex (VMC), and
the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex (DLPFC). The ACC and the OFC have
extensive connections with the amygdala and it is thought that they are
“involved in the evaluation of emotional stimuli, responses to conflict, regu-
lation of emotional responses and play an inhibitory role in regulating the
amygdala” (Goodman, Triebwasser, Shah & New, 2007, p. 101). The
DLPFC, which integrates cognition with emotion to better control emotions,
is neurophysiologically deficient in PET studies on persons with borderline
personality disorder, just as in schizophrenia. Also, structural neuroimaging
studies of the brains of patients suffering from borderline personaltiy disor-
der show a significant reduction in volume of the right ACC and of the total
frontal lobes, also as in schizophrenia. The finding of a reduced concentra-
tion of N-acetylaspartate of almost one-fifth (19%) supports a reduction of
neuronal density in the DLPFC. The amygdala and the hippocampus are
smaller in volume, as are the left OFC and the right ACC. Because of the
magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) and functional magnetic resonance
imaging (fMRI) findings, borderline personality disorder also is described as
a hyperarousal-dyscontrol syndrome due to the lack of inhibitory control by
the frontal lobe and the hyperactivity of the amygdala (Goodman et al.,
2007). This is also referred to as a deficiency of the top-down control of neg-
ative emotions. In impulsive aggression by borderline personality disorder
patients, there is an actual frontal disinhibition, and this finding is important
in the assessment of their legal responsibility in alleged criminal acting out.
A deficiency of the neurotransmitter serotonin, which controls the home-
ostasis of the brain, has also been reported in these persons.
 Antisocial Behaviors and Personality Disorders 41

Neuroimaging in Schizotypal Personality Disorder

The schizotypal personality disorder has a cognitive-perceptual distur-
bance similar to that found in schizophrenia. In this personality disorder, the
activities of the prefrontal regions are reduced. On MRI examination, the
lateral ventricles of the brain are sometimes found to have a larger volume
and, when that is so, the schizotypal personality disorder is of greater sever-
ity. Other radioimaging findings are a larger right hippocampus and in-
creased pointedness of the caudate nucleus (Goodman et al., 2007), which
may interfere with memory and responsivity.

Neuroimaging in Antisocial Personality Disorder and

Psychopathy
Neuroimaging findings in ASPD on MRI show that the prefrontal gray
matter of the brain is diminished in volume (thinning) and the volume of the
amygdala is decreased, especially when the level of psychopathy is high. On
fMRI the activity of the amygdala, which is at the base of the brain, is at
times decreased. Also, the amygdala, the PFC, and the DLPFC show dys-
function. One study found that in “criminal psychopaths, the fMRI showed
decreased activity in the amygdala, hippocampal formation, parahippocam-
pal gyrus, ventral striatum and anterior and posterior cingulated gyrus”
(Goodman et al., 2007, p. 103), all of which are important for normal brain
functioning.

CONCLUSION

The earlier discussion supports the idea that in order to assess the crimi-
nal behavior of offenders, most of whom can be classified as suffering from
a personality disorder, a complete investigation needs not only a clinical
assessment but also a thorough appraisal of the underlying function of their
brains by neuroimaging and neuropsychological testing.

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ed by positron emission tomography. Biological Psychiatry, 42, 495–508.
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 Chapter Three

THE ROLE OF THE FORENSIC

PSYCHOLOGIST

ANDREAS KAPARDIS AND G EORGIA PANAYIOTOU

B eing admitted by a judge as an expert witness to testify in a trial confers

status on a professional and his or her specialist scientific field. This
chapter first considers forensic psychologists as expert witnesses in the court
and then focuses on their role in the assessment of defendants and the impact
of crime on victims. The earliest description of the role of expert evidence in
common law courts is to be found in the case of Buckley v. Rice Thomas in
1554 (Freckelton & Selby, 2005).1 One of the earliest psychologists to testify
in a criminal trial was J. Varendonck in Belgium in about 1911 (Bartol &
Bartol, 2004), but it was in 1921 that an American psychologist testified as an
expert in a courtroom for the first time in 1921.2 Lawyers’ and other profes-
sionals’ demands for expert evidence by psychologists have increased signif-
icantly since the 1980s, reflecting growing recognition that psychologists
“have a unique contribution to make to judicial proceedings” (Gudjonsson,
1993). Although the specialization most involved in forensic psychology in
practice is clinical psychology, other fields showing increasing involvement
of psychologists as experts in English-speaking western common law coun-
tries include syndrome evidence, confessions by suspects, battered woman
syndrome, victim profile evidence, parental alienation syndrome, eyewitness
testimony, and family law.

1. Plowd 118 at 124; 75 ER E2 at 191. The first psychologist to testify in the U.S. at a civil
trial was Karle Marbe in around 1911.
2. 88 W, Va 479, 107 SE 189 (1921)- cited by Bartol and Bartol (2004) p. 9.

45
46 Applied Criminal Psychology

THE ROLE OF THE EXPERT WITNESS IN LAW

The role of witnesses in a civil or criminal trial is to state the facts as they
have been directly observed by them. In other words, witnesses do not give
their opinions. However, the law makes an exception to this basic rule in the
case of an expert when a tribunal of fact decides that a specific issue calls for
an expert witness because the particular expertise does not fall within the
knowledge and experience of the judge or jury and a witness qualifies as an
expert. In some jurisdictions (for example, the United States) an expert wit-
ness is allowed to also express an opinion on the ultimate issue, the very
question that the tribunal itself has to answer.
The question of whether a witness is an expert is a question of fact for the
judge to decide. A particular and special knowledge of a subject that has
been acquired through scientific study or experience can qualify a witness as
an expert (Cattermole, 1984). Haward (1981) identified four roles for foren-
sic psychologists (using the term forensic in a broad sense) appearing as
expert witnesses:3
Experimental: informing the court (1) about the state of knowledge relevant to
some cognitive process or (2) carrying out an experiment directly rel-
evant to the individual’s case before the court.
Clinical: testifying, for example, on their assessment of a client’s personality,
IQ, neuropsychological functioning, mental state, or behavior.
Actuarial: in a civil case, for example, estimating the probability that a plain-
tiff claiming damages for a psychological deficit caused by someone’s
negligence could live on his or her own or be gainfully employed, or
both.
Advisory: advising counsel before and during a trial about what questions to
ask the other side’s witnesses, including their expert witnesses.
Kraus and Sales (2001) used 208 psychology undergraduates as subjects
and a Texas death penalty case involving the issue of dangerousness to inves-
tigate whether mock jurors are more influenced by clinical opinion expert
testimony or actuarial expert testimony. They found that mock jurors weigh
clinical expert opinion more heavily than they do actuarial expert testimony.
However, because the authors of the study do not report any evidence con-
cerning its external validity, their results should be treated with caution.
Psychologists in the United States have been appearing as experts more
frequently and in a larger range of cases than do their counterparts in other
western English-speaking common law countries. Regarding the “hired gun”
effect idea, a mock-juror study by Cooper and Neuhaus (2000) used 140 jury-
3. See Blau (2001) for a thorough text on the psychologist as expert witness in the United
States.
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 47

eligible residents in New Jersey age 18 to 72 years as subjects, and the legal
case used involved the scientific issue of whether a chemical to which the
plaintiff had been exposed was the immediate cause of his cancer. It was
found that: (1) the experts who are highly paid for their testimony and testi-
fy frequently are perceived as “hired guns,” and (2) they are neither liked nor
believed, especially if the expert testimony adduced is complex and cannot
be easily processed.
In western common law countries, expert witnesses testify for the side that
has retained them and pays their fees. In contrast to this practice, in conti-
nental European jurisdictions expert witnesses are normally appointed by
the court to assist the court. Cooper and Hall (2000) found that mock jurors
sided with the court-appointed expert in every condition except when the
expert favored a corporate defendant. Let us next look at expert testimony
by a forensic psychologist in the United States but also, briefly, in England,
Australia, New Zealand, and Canada for comparison purposes.

United States of America

As far as the courts’ criteria for admitting expert testimony is concerned,
in the landmark decision in the case of Frye v. United States (1923), the District
of Columbia Court of Appeals rejected (1) testimony by a lie-detector expert4
that the defendant was telling the truth when he denied having committed
the alleged offence on the grounds that the scientific theory on which it was
based was not generally accepted within the relevant professional communi-
ty and (2) a request by the defense attorney that the lie-detector expert con-
duct his test in the jury’s presence. The decision in Frye made “general
acceptance in the particular [scientific] field” (1923, p. 1014) the standard cri-
terion for admitting expert testimony into courts. The Federal Rules of Evidence
(FRE) were adopted by Congress in 1975 and included a modified standard
for admitting expert testimony, namely that the scientific evidence proffered
be relevant and reliable. The FRE and Frye standards continued to be
applied by courts in the United States until 1993 when a landmark unani-
mous decision was handed down by the U.S. Supreme Court in Daubert v.
Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals (1993). According to the ruling in Daubert, the
test for expert witnesses is “vigorous cross-examination, presentation of con-
trary evidence, and careful instruction.”5 More specifically, the Daubert judg-
ment stated, inter alia, that, “the subject of an expert’s testimony must be ‘sci-
entific . . . knowledge’ . . . in order to qualify as ‘scientific knowledge,’ an
inference or assertion must be derived by the scientific method” (p. 2795)

4. The expert concerned was William Marston, a pioneer in the use of the polygraph to
detect lying.
5. Quoted in Landsman (1995, p. 155).
48 Applied Criminal Psychology

and “the criterion of the scientific status of a theory is its falsifiability, or

refutability, or testability. . . . Another pertinent consideration is whether the
theory or technique has been subjected to peer review and publication” (pp.
2796–2797).
The next significant Supreme Court decision was handed down in General
Electric Co. v. Joiner, (1997). The issue in that case was whether Joiner’s expo-
sure over sixteen years to electrical transformer chemicals at work (The
Water and Light Department of Thomasville in Georgia) contributed to his
lung cancer even though he was a smoker. The trial judge excluded the tes-
timony provided by Joiner’s expert witnesses on the grounds that, it “did not
rise above ‘subjective belief or unsupported speculation.’” In other words,
the expert witness in General Electric Co. v. Joiner did not show the scientific
link between his lung cancer and the exposure to chemicals. The appellate
court reversed the trial judge’s decision, but the Supreme Court reversed it
again, reinstating the trial judge’s exclusion, stating that the legal standard for
allowing expert testimony to be put to the jury is the same as that which the
relevant professional community uses (Gutheil & Stein, 2000).
The question of whether the Daubert guidelines apply to all forms of tech-
nical or otherwise specialized knowledge, or just scientific knowledge, was
addressed by the U.S. Supreme Court in Kumho Tire Co. v. Patrick Carmichael,
(1999). Kumho concerned the expert testimony of an engineer testifying that
a defective car tire caused a car accident. Kumho clarified that the Daubert
analysis applies not only to scientific knowledge but also to scientific, tech-
nical, and otherwise specialized knowledge. The reader should note in this
context that although the threesome of Daubert, General Electric Co., and
Kumho is the basis for federal courts in the United States deciding whether to
admit expert testimony, according to Kassin, Tubb, Hosch, and Memon
(2001), a large number of state courts continue to use the Frye standard of
“general acceptance.” What, then, has been the impact of the three cases on
judges and attorneys in the United States?
Krafka and colleagues (2002) carried out three questionnaire surveys (one
each of federal judges in 1991 and 1998 and another of attorneys in 1999)
and found that practices and beliefs changed regarding expert testimony in
the wake of Daubert in 1993. More specifically, the clarification of the admis-
sibility criteria has encouraged both judges and attorneys to scrutinize prof-
fered testimony more actively. One third of judges admit expert evidence
less frequently than were admitted before Daubert. There has been a reduc-
tion in the number of trials in which all of the proffered expert testimony has
been allowed; judges hold more pretrial Daubert-like hearings than in the
past. Attorneys increasingly scrutinize the qualifications of the experts they
hire as well as file more motions to have the expert of the other side exclud-
ed. Finally, attorneys are more involved in preparing their expert’s testimo-
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 49

ny. Krafka and coworkers (2002) also found that the Daubert and post-Daubert
decisions have not affected the problems faced by judges (e.g. partisan
experts) and attorneys (e.g. excessive fees charged by experts). Finally,
Krafka et al’s research suggests that judges limit or exclude expert testimony
for the same reasons as in the past, namely for being irrelevant, because the
expert witness is not qualified, or because the testimony will not assist the
trier of fact (2002, p. 17). The findings of Krafka and colleagues, however,
should be treated with caution because of the unrepresentativeness of their
self-selected sample of judges.
Daubert, Kumho, and General Electric Co. assume that American judges are
capable of making judgments about the scientific reliability and validity of
proffered scientific evidence. Gatowski and coworkers (2001) surveyed a
proportionate stratified random sample of state court judges and found that:
• Many of the judges surveyed did not possess the scientific literacy
apparently required by Daubert in order to perform the “gate keeping”
role defined in Daubert.
• Only 5 percent knew the meaning of the term “falsifiability” and only
4 percent knew the meaning of “error rate.”
• There was little consensus about the relative importance of the Daubert
guidelines, and judges emphasized they required more “general accep-
tance” as an admissibility criterion.
• Most did not apply judicial guidelines in differentiating between “sci-
entific” and “nonscientific” expert evidence.
Gatowki and colleagues’ findings are undoubtedly a cause for concern.
Interestingly enough, Post-Kumho decisions such as United States v. Plaza
(2002) show a preparedness by courts in the United States to admit expert
testimony concerning a technique that may not be based on falsifiable theo-
ry but enjoys general acceptance within the community of its practitioners.
In other words, American courts do not appear to adhere to a strict applica-
tion of the Daubert criteria for admissibility of expert evidence as had been
feared.

England and Wales

Until recently, British courts have been rather unenthusiastic about expert
evidence by psychologists (Sheldon & McCleod, 1991). The landmark deci-
sion in a provocation case R v. Turner (1975) has meant that, unlike in the
United States, expert testimony has had to surmount a rather difficult imped-
iment to admissibility, namely the “common knowledge and experience”
rule of evidence. This common law principle can be traced to the case of
Folkes v. Chadd in 1782 in which Lord Mansfield ruled that an expert’s opin-
50 Applied Criminal Psychology

ion is admissible if it provides the court with information that is likely to lie
outside the common knowledge and experience of the jury. The gist of the
R. v. Turner decision is that, until recently, the courts in England and Wales
have adhered to the view that they do not need a psychologist’s or psychia-
trist’s expert knowledge when it comes to psychological processes except
when mental abnormality is involved.
Examination of English authorities since R. v. Turner shows that psycho-
logical evidence that is not abnormal or does not directly concern the defen-
dant’s state of mind or the issue of intent has generally been excluded.
However, there have been a number of encouraging decisions indicating
greater readiness to admit psychological evidence (Thornton, 1995). The
restrictive interpretation of the rule in R. v. Turner was relaxed by the Court
of Appeal in the case of R. v. Sally Loraine Emery (and another) (1993) that
concerned the admissibility of expert testimony about posttraumatic stress
disorder (PTSD), learned helplessness, and the battered woman syndrome.
The reader should note in this context that defense lawyers most often enlist
the services of an expert to testify but in the battered woman syndrome an
effort is made to strengthen the argument that their client was acting in self-
defense.
According to Colman and Mackay (1995), “The effect of the Emery judg-
ment therefore appears to open the door to psychological evidence in a far
wider range than has hitherto been the case” (p. 264). More recently, in R. v.
Bowman (2006), in addition to reiterating a list of duties owed to the court by
an expert witness in a criminal trial as set out primarily6 in R. v. Harris and
others (2005), it adopted a less restrictive approach to the whole issue of
expert testimony admissibility criteria than the U.S. Supreme Court in
Daubert and post-Daubert decisions. The Court of Appeal emphasized the
importance of a court having the benefit of developments in scientific think-
ing and techniques, even if such knowledge and techniques are still at the
stage of hypothesis.
In recent years, courts in England have opened the door to a broader
range of cases than would have been possible under the restrictive interpre-
tation of the rule in R. v. Turner. The common knowledge rule itself, of
course, has not been abandoned but has been interpreted more broadly than
in R. v. Turner. Other examples in which the R. v. Turner rule was relaxed and
courts have shown a readiness to admit expert evidence are in relation to
psychological profiling evidence (see Guilfoyle [2001]) and the psychological
vulnerability of particular suspects to confess to a crime during police ques-
tioning (Gudjonsson, 2002).

6. See also The Ikarian Reefer [1993] 2 Loyds Rep. 68. R. v. Kai-Whitewind [2005] All ER (D)
14 (May) that was also considered.
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 51

Further evidence that courts in England and Wales are readier to admit
expert evidence by psychologists on matters that do not fall within abnormal
behavior is seen in the fact that well-known forensic psychologists have now
testified as experts on a broad range of psycholegal issues in a number of
cases (Kapardis, 2003).

Australia, New Zealand, and Canada

Drawing on Freckelton and Selby’s (2005) book for this section, expert tes-
timony by mental health professionals in Australian and New Zealand courts
has been allowed for example, for sentencing, postaccident impairment,
competence to stand trial, criminal responsibility, capacity to work, degree
of mental retardation, trauma suffered by victims of crime, behavior of vic-
tims, insanity defense, operation of memory, trademark infringement and
fraudulent advertising, causation of death as a result of mental state, custodi-
al and access arrangements, and effects of discrimination. Interestingly
enough, the existing precedent (Johnson and Johnson, unreported Full Court of
Family Court of Australia, 7 July 1997) offers but limited support to the
parental alienation syndrome (Freckelton & Selby, 2005). Evidence from
mental health professionals has been disallowed on the working of memory
(R. v. Fong, 1981; R. v. Smith, 1987); the typical behavior of children after they
have been molested (R. v. B, 1987), the likelihood of a defendant having
made a particular record of interview to the police (Murphy v. R., 1989;
Freckelton, 1990), and polygraph evidence (New South Wales District Court
in R. v. Murray, 1982; Mallard v. The Queen, 2003).
In Canada, the Supreme Court’s decisions in R. v. Mohan (1994) and in R.
v. J-L (2000) “have opened the door to criminal profiling evidence” (Freck-
elton & Selby, 2005).7 Canadian courts have generally admitted expert testi-
mony on a broader range of issues instead of focusing narrowly on mental
illness, as has been the approach of courts in England, Australia, and New
Zealand. Although the impact of the Daubert decision on Canadian courts is
difficult to predict, it is interesting to note that in R. v. Johnston (1992) (a DNA
case) it was held that the Frye test was not part of Canadian law and that the
criteria for admissibility for novel scientific evidence were relevance and
helpfulness to the tribunal of fact, helpfulness to be decided by considering
a list of fourteen factors. Canadian courts have disallowed expert evidence
on the operation of memory (R. v. M., 1997) and eyewitness identification (R.
v. McCarthy, 1997).
7. See two recent decisions in Canada in R. v. Ranger (2003) 178 CCC (3d) and R. v. Clark
(2004) 182 CCC (ed) which mean that profiling experts may well be allowed to testify if they
confine themselves to explaining to the court what the crime scene shows and how the crime
was committed and not why they believe the defendant behaved in a particular way and what
attributes the offender is likely to possess (Freckelton & Selby, 2005, p. 454).
52 Applied Criminal Psychology

THE IMPACT OF EXPERT TESTIMONY BY PSYCHOLOGISTS

Testimony by an expert witness can have a significant effect on the out-

come of a trial. The impact of an expert testifying in a real case in court can
vary, of course, from the size of damages awarded in a civil suit, and jurors’
assessment of a witness’s reliability to a jury’s verdict in a criminal case and
even the freeing of persons wrongly convicted and imprisoned for life.
Drawing on Kraus and Sales’ (2001) discussion of the literature, researchers
have reported that juror decision making is influenced if expert testimony is
presented on the following issues:
• The fallibility of eyewitness identifications
• Clinical syndromes (for example, battered wife syndrome, rape trau-
ma syndrome, child sexual abuse syndrome, and depressed memory
syndrome)
• Insanity
• Future dangerousness of a defendant
Bornstein (2004) reported that in a personal injury case the expert witness
had greater impact on mock jurors’ verdict when presenting anecdotal case
histories than did experimental data and also that the expert’s perceived
credibility correlated with the subject’s liability judgments. A possible expla-
nation for Bornstein’s results may be the fact that mock jurors are more like-
ly to be influenced when the expert explicitly links the research findings to
the case at hand (Kovera, Borgida & Gresham, 1996).

Appearing as Experts
Poor evidence by forensic psychologists appearing as experts can be very
damaging for psychologists in general, undermining the posititve impact that
psychologists can have on developments within the legal system, and can
have a disastrous effect on individual cases, causing miscarriages of justice
(Gudjonsson, 1993). For Gudjonsson, poor psychological evidence is testi-
mony that does not inform and is misleading or incorrect. Furthermore, the
characteristics of such poor evidence are “poor preparation, lack of knowl-
edge and experience, low level of thoroughness, and inappropriate use or
misinterpretation of test results” (p. 120).
Advice for forensic psychologists, like other expert witnesses,8 who wish to
avoid the embarrassing and unpleasant experience of seeing their expert tes-
timony being distorted and their professional reputation damaged, includes
the following:
8. See Freckelton and Selby (2005, p. 873–906) for detailed advice to expert witnesses by
two very experienced and highly respected barristers.
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 53

• Be very familiar with courtroom procedure, rules of evidence, and

ways of presenting psychological data to a bench or a jury, and be
aware of the conduct expected of an expert witness (Wardlaw, 1984).
• Have well-prepared reports and other evidence and, if inexperienced,
undertake some training in how to best handle lawyers’ cross-examin-
ation (Carson, 1990; Nijboer, 1995).
• Stick to one’s own area of expertise and be explicit and open (Nijboer,
1995).
• American attorney Michael Lee9 lists the following top five mistakes
expert witnesses make: (1) relying only on information provided by
the lawyer, (2) forgetting that he or she is an advocate for his or her
own opinions and methodology but not for the case itself, (3) putting
too much in writing too soon and too casually, (4) being myopic, and
(5) sounding too much like an “expert.” Regarding cross-examination,
Wardlaw (1984) lists a number of rules likely to prove helpful for the
witness. These include:
• Answer all questions and do not allow counsel for the other side to put
words in your mouth. Do not make guesses and take as much time as
you need to reply to questions.
• If under attack, keep calm and avoid getting angry or unreasonably
defensive.
• Prepare for the cross-examination by trying to anticipate the questions
by imagining that you are the one who is to cross-examine.
As already mentioned, a forensic psychologist who will testify in a court case
must have a well-prepared report. Let us next focus on what forensic psy-
chological assessment of crime suspects and defendants as well as victims
entails.

THE ROLE OF FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGISTS IN THE

ASSESSMENT OF CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR AND ITS IMPACT
ON VICTIMS

Psychological assessment is one of the chief activities of clinical, forensic,

and other applied psychologists. It involves a systematic and ongoing evalu-
ation of the individual. The decisiveness of psychological expert opinion in
these settings accentuates the need for applied psychologists to perform eval-
uations in an ethical, professional, thorough, and, as best as possible, empir-
ically validated manner.

9. Source http://library.findlaw.com/2005/jul/22/186441.html
54 Applied Criminal Psychology

The clinical or forensic psychologist may be called in to answer a variety

of questions within forensic settings in order to aid legal decision makers
through providing scientifically based information (Grisso, 1986). Questions
posed to the psychologist include competency to stand trial, appropriate dis-
position, danger to self and others, possibility of malingering and so on. As-
sessment of a suspect’s fitness to stand trial may involve an evaluation of the
client’s cognitive ability (i.e. ability to understand the proceedings), mental
status (state of consciousness, psychiatric symptoms that interfere with com-
prehension of the situation, sensory and perceptual deficits), and organic
deficits or use of substances as well as emotional reactivity to certain events
that may interfere with his or her judgment. In the case of victims of crime,
the psychologist may be asked to determine the severity of the psychological
impact of the crime and the degree of disability this may have caused. In
both cases, the psychologist may have to judge, based on empirical evidence,
whether the perpetrator or the victim is engaged in malingering (faking bad
or faking good) for the purposes of securing a better outcome for himself or
herself, a task that can prove challenging if appropriate scientific guidelines
are not maintained (Rogers & Cruise, 2000). Thus, the role of the forensic
psychologist is multifaceted, and the expert will need to rely on a wide array
of tools in order to answer the referral questions.

The Process of Psychological Assessment in Forensic Settings

Psychological assessment involves several methods and stages. It almost
always includes a clinical interview, often supplemented by the use of stan-
dardized tests, behavioral observations, life records, and less frequently the
collection of biological and psychophysiological data. Assessment in forensic
settings poses some special challenges. The assessment is often court ordered
or requested by lawyers, which means that the individual involved may lack
the motivation to be fully cooperative in disclosing personal information or
presenting an accurate picture of his or her strengths and weaknesses. Limita-
tions aside, the forensic psychologist continues to be ethically bound to carry
out the evaluation in an objective manner, treat the subject with respect, and
constantly keep in mind the benefit of the person and society in general
(which are at times contradictory).

Assessment of Perpetrators of Violence

One of the primary goals of assessment is diagnosis and classification.
Although most people with psychological and organic disorders are not vio-
lent and do not commit crimes, for those who do act violently, psy-
chopathological processes or organic problems are often the driving force
behind their behavior. Through a thorough assessment the clinician will be
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 55

in a position to give an enlightened expert opinion to courts, direct the per-

petrator to appropriate interventions, and help protect potential future vic-
tims.
The purpose of the psychological assessment of perpetrators is usually to
(1) gather information about the circumstances of the crime; (2) construct a
personality profile of the suspect or criminal in order to evaluate his or her
potential for committing the crime, and the circumstance under which he or
she could have reacted in the specific manner; (3) determine the probability
of future danger to self and others; and (4) suggest the best-fitting rehabilita-
tion setting if the suspect is judged to be responsible for the crime.

The Clinical Interview

As in every psychological assessment, the evaluation of a perpetrator or
potentially violent client begins with a thorough clinical interview and histo-
ry, which can be further informed with the use of archival information from
previous psychiatric or police records and interviews with family members,
former therapists, and others who know the client in various contexts. The
clinical interview, in order to be informative, needs to be carried out in a
context of rapport.
Once the ice has been broken, the clinician can proceed with gathering
the essential components of the client’s history, including the history of the
present problem (violent or criminal behavior). Was the violent outbreak an
atypical behavior that only occurred once or has there been a history of vio-
lent actions that happen under specific conditions or provocations or that
escalate in predictable ways? As psychologists are well aware, previous
behavior is the best predictor of future behavior, so uncovering a history of
violence or criminality is crucial. What is the frequency, target, and precur-
sor of violence? Is there a history of other impulsive or violent behavior such
as suicide attempts, use of drugs, dangerous sexual activity, or criminality?
Answers to these questions may help predict the likelihood of a future
expression of violence as well as point to particular diagnostic hypotheses,
such as a brief psychotic episode versus a personality disorder. A develop-
mental, medical, social and family history is also essential. Taking the client’s
history helps form initial diagnostic hypotheses that will then be evaluated
through further testing and more targeted interviews. It also allows the client
to tell his or her story and the clinician to demonstrate interest, thus further
helping to build rapport. Clinical interviews can then extend to family mem-
bers, employers, or others who know the client (with the client’s consent or
with a court order) in order to validate and supplement the information gath-
ered and to better understand the family and social context in which the per-
son routinely functions.
56 Applied Criminal Psychology

Mental Status Examination

The mental status examination is an essential component of assessment,
particularly when competency to stand trial or ability to be aware of the con-
sequences of one’s actions at the time the criminal act was committed are in
question. Some of the information required in this examination will already
be obtained through the history interview; the clinician will be able to see if
the client is currently oriented, fully conscious, or blatantly psychotic. Rich-
ness of vocabulary, long-term memory, concentration, and organization of
thought will also usually be apparent through the interview, although specif-
ic questions are included in standardized mental status exams to assess these
processes (e.g. Folstein, Folstein, & McHugh, 1975). Many organic disorders
manifest with impairments in cognitive and affective processes, conscious-
ness and overt behavior. Patients who are in delirium, caused by intoxica-
tion, withdrawal from substances, or another medical condition, may be dis-
oriented, demonstrate perceptual and memory disturbances, and show psy-
chomotor agitation (American Psychiatric Association [APA], 1994). Patients
with dementia may also occasionally be violent because of paranoid ideas or
increased frustration due to realization of their cognitive deterioration. Most
importantly, in the context of the mental status exam, the clinician should
determine if the client is under the influence of a psychotropic substance or
undergoing withdrawal symptoms, because it is often the case that violence
and criminal behavior happen during intoxication or in association with the
turmoil caused by withdrawal (Haggard-Grann, Hallqvist, Langstrom &
Moller, 2006).

Diagnostic Interviews
Diagnostic interviews usually attempt to identify the presence of symp-
toms as listed in formal taxonomic systems such as the Diagnostic and Statis-
tical Manual (4th ed.; APA, 1994) (DSM-IV) or International Classification of
Diseases (10th ed.) (ICD-10). To aid in this process, several structured and
semi-structured interviews have been developed that include standardized
questions that assess the presence and severity of the criteria required for a
diagnosis. Commonly used structured interviews include the SCID, SCID-
II (Spitzer, Williams, Gibbon & First, 1992) and ADIS-R/ADIS-IV (DiNardo
& Barlow, 1988). The purpose of diagnostic interviews is to verify or rule out
hypotheses regarding the presence of certain disorders sometimes associated
with violence. Such disorders include schizophrenia, schizophrenia spectrum
and other psychotic disorders, mood disorders, personality disorders, dis-
ruptive behavior disorders, and mental retardation. Reaching the appropri-
ate diagnosis will help determine the appropriate disposition for the forensic
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 57

client and suggest specific circumstances under which violence may take
place. Arriving at a formal diagnosis is crucial in cases in which a suspect
may plead insanity or in which mitigating factors are sought for criminal
behavior. Diagnosis is also important when trying to predict how a convict-
ed criminal will cope with confinement and with interactions with others
within the correctional or rehabilitation facility.
Among children and adolescents who have engaged in violent or criminal
behavior the most common diagnoses are oppositional defiant disorder and
conduct disorder (Barkley, 1997). Dissociative identity disorder and other
dissociative disorders are rare and intriguing conditions that have sometimes
been implicated in criminal behavior, or at least have been called for in the
context of insanity pleas (Orne, Dinges & Orne, 1984).
DSM-IV Axis II disorders also need to be assessed since the presence of a
personality disorder or mental retardation may also have contributed to
criminal behavior etiologically. Although patients with mental retardation or
low cognitive ability are not typically violent or aggressive, low IQ may be
associated with low tolerance for frustration, poor judgment, and lack of cop-
ing and verbal skills for solving problems and resisting provocations. When
there is a suspicion that low IQ may be implicated in violence, formal test-
ing with tests like the WAIS-R and evaluation of functional skills is in order.

Assessment of Antisocial Personality Disorder and

Psychopathy
People commit crimes or engage in violent behaviors for a multitude of
reasons that will need to be uncovered. A group of individuals who are at
high risk for repetitively engaging in criminal and violent behavior, who
show little remorse for their actions and are therefore poor candidates for re-
habilitation, are those described as psychopaths or individuals with antisocial
personality disorder (APD) (APA, 1994). Many adults with APD were diag-
nosed with conduct disorder or oppositional defiant disorder, or both as chil-
dren (Robins, 1978) and, therefore, show long histories of rule violations and
aggression against others.
APD is similar but by no means identical to a diagnostic category that is
not listed in the DSM-IV, namely psychopathic personality disorder. In an
early description Cleckley (1941) described the psychopathic personality as
someone who was egocentric; deceitful; shallow; manipulative; and lacking
in empathy, guilt, and remorse. This description focuses on personality char-
acteristics rather than overt behavior, highlighting the motivating factors
behind criminal acts. As Hare (1993) described psychopaths, they are people
who “charm, manipulate and ruthlessly plow their way through life,” selfish-
ly disregarding the rights and happiness of others. The psychopath looks out
58 Applied Criminal Psychology

for himself or herself, seems to lack a conscience, and shows little empathy
toward the pain of others. More recent versions of the DSM (DSM-III, -IV)
base their diagnostic criteria for APD on much more behavioral and observ-
able terms (Hare, 1983). The rationale for this change is that personality traits
are often hard to measure and are unreliable, whereas the presence of overt
behaviors is easier for clinicians to agree upon.
In addition, the focus on observable behavior aids in the attempt made in
the recent versions of the DSM to maintain an atheoretical approach to diag-
nosis. Thus, APD, as it is recently conceptualized, is not identical to psycho-
pathic personality, and this discrepancy has fueled many debates in the sci-
entific literature. Most psychopaths meet the criteria for APD, but most peo-
ple with APD are not psychopaths. Many APD individuals do have the abil-
ity to feel guilt and loyalty and may demonstrate this through their allegiance
to gangs and other groups and subcultures. Similarly, a substantial percent-
age of people with APD and psychopathy will not demonstrate criminal
behavior, or at least will not be “caught” and have contact with the legal sys-
tem. In fact, many psychopaths function well in society, holding prominent
roles in politics or business, putting their egocentric traits in the service of
acquiring them high positions of power and personal achievement.
According to Hart and Hare (1997), a diagnosis of APD does not have good
predictive power for future recidivism, whereas psychopathic offenders are
three to four times more likely to reoffend. APD can be diagnosed through
structured and unstructured interviews that reflect the criteria of the taxo-
nomic system; psychopathy can be assessed through the use of standardized
and well-validated psychometric tests.
The Psychopathy Checklist and its twenty-item revised version (PCL-R)
(Hare, 1991) have evolved into the golden standard for the assessment of
psychopathy and rely on interviews and archival data. Factor analytic results
(Cooke & Michie, 2001) yield a three-factor structure of (1) arrogant and
deceitful interpersonal style, (2) deficient affective experience, and (3) impul-
sive and irresponsible behavioral style. Both the two- and three-factor struc-
tures have received empirical validation by showing reliable associations
with other personality constructs and actual criminal behavior. For instance,
the third factor has shown good predictive validity for frequency and sever-
ity of arrest and crimes against property, whereas the second factor predicts
violence and crimes against people (Hall, Benning & Patrick, 2004).
A self-report measure of psychopathy is the Psychopathic Personality
Inventory (PPI) (Lilienfeld & Andrews 1996), which seeks to overcome the
common problems associated with self-report measures in this field that have
to do with the potential for dishonest responding and lack of validity scales.
The PPI contains eight subscales and four validity scales; factor analytical
findings reveal that the same two dominant factors previously found in the
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 59

PCL (affective-interpersonal and social deviance) can also be extracted

(Patrick, 1995). This evidence supports the view that the two constructs sup-
ported by the factors are indeed valid aspects of psychopathic personality.
In addition to trait-specific tests, even more specific variants of psychopa-
thy can be traced in an individual through a thorough assessment that in-
cludes widely used global measures of personality such as the Minnesota
Multiphasic Personality Inventory-2 (MMPI-2), MPQ and NEO-PI-R
(Benning et al., 2005). Furthermore, assessment can be supplemented and
information can be extracted through trait-specific tests that may appear less
threatening and less likely to be faked by the respondent. These can include
measures of traits conceptually associated with the core characteristics of psy-
chopathy such as impulsivity (measured with Barratt Impulsiveness Scale-11
for example; Barratt & Slaughter, 1998), sensation seeking (Sensation Seek-
ing Scale; Zuckerman, 1994), low agreeableness and conscientiousness mea-
sured with the NEO-PI-R, and high sensitivity to rewards, low sensitivity to
punishment measured with the SPSRQ (Torrubia, Avila, Molto & Caseras,
2001).
Several indexes of the MMPI-2, perhaps the most commonly used mea-
sure of personality, can be used to make inferences regarding the presence
of psychopathy and APD. Sellbom, Ben-Porath, Lilienfeld, Patrick, and
Graham (2005) argue that other MMPI scales can be used to supplement the
evidence from Scales 4 and 9. Such relevant MMPI-2 scales include the
newly developed Restructured Clinical Scales (4, 9). In fact Sellbom, Ben-
Porath, Lilienfeld, Patrick and Graham (2005) found that the optimal pre-
dictors of psychopathy were RC4 and RC9 for measurement of social devi-
ance, coupled with low scores on RC7 (anxiety) and RC3 (depression) that
tap into the interpersonal-affective characteristics (see also Sellbom, Ben-
Porath & Stafford, 2007).
Of special concern is the assessment of psychopathy among juvenile
offenders. Several rating scales and self-report measures exist for children
and adolescents including the Psychopathy Checklist: Youth Version (Forth,
Hart & Hare, 1990), Psychopathic Screening Device (Frick & Hare, 2002),
Child Psychopathy Scale (Lynam, 1997), MMPI-A, and others. Evidence
exists that all of these measures correlate significantly with other indicators
of aggressive behavior and predict at least to some degree recidivism for vio-
lent crimes over a short period (Brandt, Kennedy, Patrick & Curtin, 1997).
However, it will not be clear if such measures predict future violent behav-
ior in adulthood unless longitudinal studies are carried out.
Finally, another useful tool in the hands of the clinician who assesses for
the presence of psychopathy and antisocial traits is psychophysiological
assessment. This is not used very frequently because it is time consuming and
costly, but as the neurosciences develop and psychology evolves into a
60 Applied Criminal Psychology

health science, the validity of these measures, due to their objectivity and
nonreliance on self-report, may make them an attractive addition to the
process of assessment. With further research into their validity, psychophys-
iological indexes such as skin conductance, heart rate, and startle response
can become valuable in the assessment of psychopathy because of their abil-
ity to tap into basic motivational systems and their relative resilience to fak-
ing.

Assessment of Malingering
Both perpetrators of crime and victims may have reasons to fake good or
fake bad in the process of assessment. It is important for the forensic psy-
chologist to use every available tool for assessing the possibility of malinger-
ing. In this context, observation of the behavior and emotional reactions of
the interviewee who is lying, and noticing inconsistencies in stories, erro-
neous descriptions of symptoms and symptom clusters, and exaggerated
symptomatology can be important strategies (Palermo, Perracuti & Palermo,
1996) that can be supplemented with the use of valid psychometric tests.
A standard way of assessing malingering involves the validity scales of
psychometric tests, such as the traditional F, K, and L scales of the MMPI-2.
A T score of 100 on the F scale of the MMPI-2 has often been used to iden-
tify with good success (95–100%) those research subjects who have been
asked to fake bad, but there was less predictive accuracy in forensic popula-
tions (Austin, 1992; Roman, Tuley, Villanueva & Mitchell, 1990). The F-K
index and Obvious-Subtle scales are other frequently used tools that may,
however, be less discriminating than is the F scale alone.

LEGAL AND ETHICAL ISSUES IN THE ASSESSMENT OF

CRIMINAL AND VIOLENT BEHAVIOR

When dealing with suspects of crime or clients who have demonstrated

violent behavior, the clinician is often faced with various ethical challenges.
In all cases the clinician’s best bet is to follow closely the regulations of the
ethical code by which he or she abides and to consult with colleagues and
supervisors when in doubt. Peer consultation is also important because the
constant contact of a forensic clinician with crime and violence may quickly
lead to burnout, which alone can lead to suboptimal professional practice
and compromise the services offered to clients.
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 61

Assessment of Victims of Violence

The role of the clinician should be guided by similar ethical and profes-
sional principles when assessing victims, for which assessment questions are
somewhat different. Victims of violent crimes require assessment in forensic
settings in order to verify the claim that the crime was committed, evaluate
the degree of damage, and propose corrective measures required to remedy
the situation. Among persons who have experienced sexual or physical
abuse, or both, for instance, common outcomes may include anxiety (panic,
generalized anxiety disorder, phobias), depression, low self-esteem, somati-
zation, dissociation, and sexual and relationship problems (Briere & Jordan,
2004). For abused children, the possibility of becoming abusers themselves
is also a possible outcome. The most common diagnoses, particularly when
the traumatic event was life threatening or outside the range of normal
human experience involves PTSD or acute stress disorder (diagnosed with-
in the first month after the event).
PTSD occurs when a person has experienced or witnessed an event that
“involved actual or threatened death or serious injury or a threat to the phys-
ical integrity of the self or others” (APA, 1994). It includes symptoms of reex-
periencing the event, such as intrusive recollections, dreams, or flashbacks;
intense psychological distress and physiological reactivity when in contact
with stimuli that are reminiscent of the traumatic event; avoidance of stimuli
associated with the trauma; and general numbing or restriction of emotional
experience that may impair relationships and intimacy. Increased startle
response is a strong indicator of PTSD, bringing to the forefront psycho-
physiological methods of assessment as an important auxiliary to more tra-
ditional approaches.
Not all persons who have experienced violence or other major traumatic
events develop PTSD, which testifies to the power of human resiliency.
Other taxonomic categories that are used with declining frequency for
women victims of violence include the rape trauma syndrome (Burgess &
Holstrom, 1974) and battered woman syndrome (Walker, 1984). In part, the
reason why these constructs are now in use less, is that they have not showed
good discriminant validity, because the symptoms are not specific to the con-
ditions described (i.e. raped and battered women) or even to recent victim-
ization. Rather, the PTSD taxonomy is usually preferred because it is encom-
passing for many types of trauma and symptoms. It may not represent the
full range of psychological problems faced by victims, however. As men-
tioned earlier many other disorders are instigated by exposure to trauma,
and particularly to criminal behavior that is viewed as uncontrollable. A
woman who has been victimized may suffer depression as a result of her per-
ceived helplessness (Seligman, 1975) and the loss of her ability to feel safe.
62 Applied Criminal Psychology

Dissociative disorders are often the outcome of severe and repeated victim-
ization of children in as high as 95 percent of cases (Ross, 1997). Dissociation
is one of the symptoms of PTSD, and dissociative disorders, such as disso-
ciative identity disorder, may represent a special case of the same disorder
with these symptoms as its dominant manifestation. The multiplicity of
symptoms that can arise from trauma necessitates a global assessment on the
part of the psychologist.
In addition to assessing current response to trauma, it is important for the
clinician to assess various other situational and person-specific characteristics
because they modify the response to violence. Many victims of abuse, par-
ticularly women, have had a history of childhood physical or sexual abuse
(Stermac, Reist, Addison & Millar 2002), and this may magnify the impact of
the recent victimization experience. Additionally, the interpretation of the
violent event by the victim and his or her reaction to it is important in deter-
mining the development and degree of symptomatology because a response
that includes terror, dissociation and a sense of helplessness is associated with
worse psychological symptoms (Bernat, Ronfeldt, Calhoun & Arias, 1998).
Thus, many factors make the response of the victim rather idiosyncratic, call-
ing for personalized assessment and treatment. In the assessment package,
broad measures of symptomatology and personality should be included,
such as the MMPI-2 and the Symptom Checklist-90 or Brief Symptom
Inventory (Derogatis, 1983) to determine the range of symptoms and per-
sonality characteristics that may determine prognosis and response to trau-
ma. Symptom-specific measures of PTSD such as the Posttraumatic Stress
Diagnostic Scale (Foa, 1995), can then be used, along with structured diag-
nostic interviews such as the ADIS-IV, to determine the presence of PTSD
and other anxiety disorders. At a behavioral level, fear hierarchies of situa-
tions and stimuli that provoke anxiety and PTSD symptoms (flashbacks, star-
tle response, numbness) should be constructed using ratings of Subjective
Units of Distress (SUDS). These hierarchies can then be used in the context
of systematic desensitization, and declining levels of distress can be continu-
ally assessed after repeated, graduated exposures. Care must be taken by the
clinician when assessing and treating trauma victims.

CONCLUSION

The courts in the United States, Canada, England, Australia, and New
Zealand have opened the door to psychologists to testify as expert witnesses.
In a number of areas (e.g. psychological research on hypnosis; child abuse
witness credibility, unless the syndrome evidence has been framed as a med-
ical condition; and the polygraph), however, the courts have disallowed such
 The Role of the Forensic Psychologist 63

evidence (Freckelton & Selby, 2005). Psychologists as expert witnesses in

English-speaking common law countries have appeared in cases involving
child sexual abuse, child custody cases, the battered woman syndrome, eye-
witness testimony, PTSD, profiling, and false confessions.
The significance of the U.S. Supreme Court’s important judgments in
General Electric Co. v. Joiner and Kumho, which followed in the wake of the
Daubert decision in 1993, depend on the ability of American judges to under-
stand and implement crucial concepts in Daubert, but empirical evidence
points to the contrary for most of the American judiciary. Post-Kumho deci-
sions such as United States v. Plaza (2002) show a preparedness by courts in
the United States to admit expert testimony concerning a technique that may
not be based on falsifiable theory but enjoys general acceptance within the
community of its practitioners. In other words, American courts do not
appear to adhere to a strict application of the Daubert criteria for admissibil-
ity of expert evidence as had been feared. In England and Wales, further
relaxation of the R. v. Turner rule is evidenced in the Court of Appeal’s admit-
ting in a number of cases expert testimony by forensic psychologists on a
defendant’s psychological vulnerability (i.e. his or her suggestibility) to make
a false confession to the police while in custody. Additional evidence can be
found in the same court’s decision in R. v. Bowman that the court should have
the benefit of any development in scientific thinking, including expert testi-
mony about scientific knowledge and techniques that are at the stage of
hypothesis. Thus, the courts in England and Wales do not seem to consider
“general acceptance” as the main admissibility criterion for expert testimony
as do American courts.
The task of the forensic psychologist in assessing both offenders and the
impact of their criminal acts on victims, as well as in testifying as an expert
in the courtroom, is by no means an easy one and calls for professionalism.
The role is multifaceted and the expert needs to rely on a wide array of tools
in order to answer the referral questions. Particular difficulties are involved
in being asked to assess APD and psychopathy. The task is even more chal-
lenging when we bear in mind that the forensic psychologist may well have
to judge whether the offender or the victim is engaged in malingering. To
meet the challenge successfully in assessing suspects, defendants, and vic-
tims, the forensic psychologist simply cannot afford but to be guided by eth-
ical and professional principles.

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 Chapter Four

RISK ASSESSMENT

CHARLES L. SCOTT AND P HILLIP J. RESNICK

M ental health clinicians are often asked to determine an individual’s risk

of future violence. Dangerousness assessments are required in a wide
variety of situations that include involuntary commitments, emergency psy-
chiatric evaluations, seclusion and restraint release decisions, inpatient care
discharges, probation/parole decisions, death penalty evaluations, domestic
violence interventions, fitness for duty evaluations, and after a threat is made.
The term dangerousness is not a psychiatric diagnosis; the concept of dan-
gerousness is a legal judgment based on social policy. In other words, dan-
gerousness is a broader concept than either violence or dangerous behavior;
it indicates an individual’s propensity to commit dangerous acts (Mulvey &
Lidz, 1984).
Unfortunately, no psychological test or interview can predict future vio-
lence with high accuracy. Relatively infrequent events (e.g. homicide) are
more difficult to predict than more common events (e.g. domestic violence)
because they have a low base rate of occurrence. The accuracy of a clini-
cian’s assessment of future violence is related to many factors, including the
circumstances of the evaluation and the length of time over which violence
is predicted.
In a classic review of clinicians’ accuracy at predicting violent behavior
toward others, Monahan concluded in 1981 that psychiatrists and psycholo-
gists were accurate in no more than one out of three predictions of violent
behavior among institutionalized patients followed over many years who
had both committed violence in the past and who were diagnosed as men-
tally ill (Monahan & Steadman, 1994). However, more recent studies indi-
cate that clinicians’ accuracy in assessing future violence improves when the

69
70 Applied Criminal Psychology

prediction is limited to briefer periods of time. For example, Lidz, Mulvey,

and Gardner (1993), found that the accuracy of clinicians’ predictions of vio-
lence by male patients (but not female patients) examined in an acute psy-
chiatric emergency room significantly exceeded chance based on patient
self-reports of violent incidents, corroborating information from someone
who knew the patient well, and a review of official records.
When conducting a violence risk assessment, the clinician may find it
helpful to divide the concept of dangerousness into five components. The
first component is the magnitude of potential harm that is threatened.
Behavior may involve physical harm to persons or property, as well as psy-
chological harm to others. In addition to identifying the likely target of vio-
lence, the degree of anticipated harm should be understood. For example,
threatening to shoot someone in the head foreshadows a much greater risk
of serious harm than does threatening to kick someone in the leg.
The second component of dangerousness is the likelihood that a violent
act will take place. Here it is important to clarify the seriousness of the per-
son’s intent to cause harm. A person’s past history of acting on violent
thoughts is the best predictor that violent intentions will be carried out. The
third component is the imminence of the harm. For example, is the person
threatening harm in the next ten hours or the next ten days? The fourth com-
ponent examines the frequency of a behavior. Frequency is defined as the
number of times a particular act has occurred over a specified period of time.
The greater the frequency of an aggressive act, the higher the risk that the
behavior will reoccur in the future. Situational factors constitute the fifth
component of potential dangerousness. Situational factors that increase the
risk of future violence include association with a criminally offending peer
group, lack of financial resources and housing, easy access to weapons, and
exposure to alcohol or illicit drugs.

RISK FACTORS ASSOCIATED WITH VIOLENCE

Demographic Factors and Violence Risk

The clinical assessment of dangerousness requires a review of several risk
factors that have been associated with an increased likelihood of future vio-
lence (Humphreys, Johnstone, MacMillan & Taylor, 1992; Pearson, Wilmot
& Padi, 1992; Swanson, Holzer, Ganju & Jono, 1990). For example, data
from the Epidemiologic Catchment Area study showed violent behavior
generally was associated with younger age groups. Swanson and colleagues
found that the percentage of respondents reporting violent behavior in the
past year was 7.34 percent among those between eighteen and twenty-nine
years old, 3.59 percent among those between thirty and forty-four years old,
 Risk Assessment 71

1.22 percent among those between forty-five and sixty-four years old, and
less than 1 percent among those sixty-five years and older (Swanson et al.,
1990).
Males perpetrate violent acts approximately ten times more often than
females (Tardiff & Sweillam, 1980). In contrast, among people with mental
disorders, men and women do not significantly differ in their base rates of
violent behavior. In fact, rates are remarkably similar and in some cases
slightly higher for women (Lidz et al., 1993; Newhill, Mulvey & Lidz, 1995).
The MacArthur Foundation’s Violence Risk Assessment Study monitored
male and female psychiatric inpatients (aged eighteen years to forty years) re-
leased from a psychiatric hospital with mental disorders for acts of violence
toward others (MacArthur Foundation, 2001). During the one-year follow-
up, men were “somewhat more likely” than women to be violent, but the dif-
ference was not large. Women were more likely than men were to target their
aggression toward family members in the home environment. Violent acts
by men were more likely to result in an arrest or the need for medical treat-
ment (MacArthur Foundation, 2001). Research examining the relationship of
gender and violence committed by psychiatric inpatients also concluded that
both men and women have similar rates of aggression in this setting. In their
study of 155 male and 67 female psychiatric inpatients, Krakowski and
Czobor (2004) found that a similar percentage of women and men had an
incident of physical assault in the hospital. However, women had a higher
frequency of physical assaults during the first ten days of the study period,
and men were more likely to perpetrate assaults that resulted in an injury.
The examiner should also consider the patient’s economic status because
violence is nearly three times as common among individuals in lower
income brackets (Borum, Swartz & Swanson, 1996). However, one study
(Silver, Mulvey & Monahan, 1999) reported that the actual socioeconomic
status of individual patients was less predictive of violent behavior than was
concentrated poverty in the neighborhood.
The risk of violence also increases for those with lower intelligence and
mild mental retardation (Borum et al., 1996; Quinsey & Maquire, 1986).
Hodgins (1992) reported that intellectually handicapped men were five times
more likely to commit violent offenses, and intellectually handicapped
women were twenty-five times more likely to commit violent offenses. In
addition, persons with less education have also been shown to have a high-
er rate of violent acts (Borum et al., 1996; Link, Andrews & Cullen, 1992).

Evaluating Past Violence History

A past history of violence is the single best predictor of future violent
behavior (Klassen & O’Connor, 1988). The MacArthur study found that all
measures of prior violence—self-report, arrest records, and hospital records—
72 Applied Criminal Psychology

were strongly related to future violence (MacArthur Foundation, 2001). It is

helpful to ask individuals about the most violent thing that they have ever
done. Obtaining a detailed history of violence involves determining the type
of violent behavior, why violence occurred, who was involved, the presence
of intoxication, and the degree of injury.
Criminal and court records are particularly useful in evaluating the per-
son’s past history of violence and illegal behavior. For example, the age at
first arrest for a serious offense is highly correlated with persistence of crim-
inal offending (Borum et al., 1996). Each prior episode of violence increases
the risk of a future violent act (Borum et al., 1996). Given four previous ar-
rests, the probability of a fifth is 80 percent (Wolfgang, Thornberry & Figlio,
1987).
Additional sources of information relevant in assessing a person’s poten-
tial for violence include a military and work history. For those individuals
who have served in the military, the clinician should review any history of
fights, absences without leave (AWOL), disciplinary measures (Article XV in
the Uniform Code of Military Justice), as well as the type of discharge. An eval-
uation of the work history should review frequency of job changes and rea-
sons for each termination. Frequent terminations increase the risk for vio-
lence. Persons who are laid off from work are six times more likely to be vio-
lent than are their employed peers (Catalano, Dooley, Novaco, Wilson &
Hough, 1993).
A person who has used weapons against others in the past may pose a seri-
ous risk of future violence. The main difference between assault and homi-
cide is the lethality of the weapon used. Loaded guns have the highest lethal-
ity of any weapon. An assault with a gun is five times more likely to result in
a fatality than is an attack with a knife (Zimring, 1991). According to the De-
partment of Justice, an estimated 40 percent of U.S. households contain a
gun and 20 percent of all gun-owning households keep the gun loaded and
unlocked (Cook & Ludwig, 1997). Subjects should be asked whether they
own or have ever owned a weapon. The recent movement of a weapon, such
as transferring a gun from a closet to a nightstand, is particularly ominous in
a paranoid person. The greater the psychotic fear, the more likely the para-
noid person is to kill someone he or she misperceives as a persecutor in mis-
perceived self-defense.

Substance Use and Violence Risk

Drugs and alcohol are strongly associated with violent behavior
(MacArthur Foundation, 2001; Pulay et al., 2008). Most people involved in
violent crimes are under the influence of alcohol at the time of their aggres-
sion (Murdoch, Pihl & Ross, 1990). At least half of all violent events, includ-
 Risk Assessment 73

ing murders, were preceded by alcohol consumption by the perpetrator of

the crime, the victim, or both (Roth, 1994). Stimulants, such as cocaine,
crack, amphetamines, and phenylcyclidine (PCP), are of special concern.
These drugs typically result in feelings of disinhibition, grandiosity, and para-
noia. Among psychiatric patients, a coexisting diagnosis of substance abuse
is strongly predictive of violence (MacArthur Foundation, 2001). In a study
comparing discharged psychiatric patients to nonpatients in the community,
substance abuse tripled the rate of violence in nonpatients and increased the
rates of violence by discharged patients by up to five times (Steadman et al.,
1998).

MENTAL DISORDERS AND VIOLENCE RISK

Studies examining whether individuals with mental illness are more vio-
lent than are the nonmentally ill have yielded mixed results (Steadman et al.,
1998; Torrey, 1994). Reported prevalence rates of violence by mentally ill
individuals have varied by the sample type studied and the time frame exam-
ined (Choe, Teplin & Abram, 2008). In a study of civilly committed psychi-
atric patients released into the community, most mentally ill individuals were
not violent (Monahan, 1997). Although a weak relationship between mental
illness and violence was noted, violent conduct was greater only during peri-
ods in which the person was experiencing acute psychiatric symptoms.
Individuals with a diagnosis of schizophrenia had lower rates of violence
compared to individuals with a diagnosis of depression or bipolar disorder.
In addition, Monahan and colleagues noted that substance abuse was a much
greater risk factor for violence than mental illness was (2001).

Psychosis and Violence Risk

Specific psychiatric symptoms and diagnoses should be carefully reviewed
when conducting a violence risk assessment. The presence of psychosis is of
particular concern when evaluating a person’s risk of future violence. In
paranoid psychotic patients, violence is often well-planned and in line with
their false beliefs. The violence is usually directed at a specific person, who
is perceived as a persecutor. Relatives or friends are often the targets of the
paranoid individual. In addition, paranoid persons in the community are
more likely to be dangerous because they have greater access to weapons
(Krakowski, Volavka & Brizer, 1986).
Do specific delusions increase the risk that a person will behave violently?
Research examining the contribution of delusions to violent behavior does
not provide a clear answer to this question. Earlier studies suggested that per-
74 Applied Criminal Psychology

secutory delusions were associated with an increased risk of aggression

(Wessely et al., 1993). Delusions noted to increase the risk of violence were
those characterized by threat/control override symptoms. These delusions
involve the following beliefs: that the mind is dominated by forces beyond
the person’s control; that thoughts are being put into the person’s head; that
people are wishing the person harm; and that the person is being followed
(Link & Stueve, 1995). Similarly, Swanson, Borum, and Swartz, using data
from the Epidemiologic Catchment Area surveys, found that people who
reported threat/control override symptoms were about twice as likely to
engage in assaultive behavior as those with other psychotic symptoms. (1996)
In contrast, results from the MacArthur Study of Mental Disorder and
Violence (MacArthur Foundation, 2001; Monahan et al., 2001) showed that
the presence of delusions did not predict higher rates of violence among
recently discharged psychiatric patients. In particular, a relationship between
the presence of threat/control override delusions and violent behavior was
not found. In a study comparing male criminal offenders with schizophrenia
found not guilty by reason of insanity to matched controls of nonoffending
schizophrenics, Stompe, Ortwein-Swoboda, and Schande (2004) also found
that threat/control override symptoms showed no significant association
with the severity of violent behavior nor did the prevalence of threat/control
override symptoms differ between the two groups. However, nondelusional
suspiciousness, such as misperceiving others’ behavior as indicating hostile
intent, was associated with subsequent violence (Monahan et al., 2001).
The seemingly contradictory findings on the relationship of threat/control
override delusions to violent behavior may be explained, in part, by gender.
For example, in a reanalysis of the findings from the MacArthur Violence
Risk Assessment study, researchers found men and women coped with threat
delusions differently. In particular, men were significantly more likely to
engage in violent behavior when experiencing threat delusions in contrast to
women who were actually less likely to behave violently under the same cir-
cumstance (Teasdale, Silver & Monahan, 2006).
In addition to suspiciousness, the presence of other emotions associated
with delusions and subsequent violence has been described. For example,
when delusional beliefs make subjects unhappy, frightened, anxious, or
angry, they are more likely to act aggressively (Appelbaum, Robbins & Roth,
1999). Finally, a propensity to act on delusions in general (not including vio-
lent actions) is significantly associated with a tendency to commit violent acts
(Monahan et al., 2001). Therefore, the clinician should inquire not only
about the relationship between prior acts of violence and delusions but also
about any prior acts that resulted from delusional beliefs.
A careful inquiry about hallucinations is required to determine whether
their presence increases the person’s risk to commit a violent act. In general,
 Risk Assessment 75

the presence of hallucinations is not related to dangerous acts, but certain

types of hallucinations may increase the risk of violence (Zisook, Byrd, Kuck
& Jeste, 1995). Patients with schizophrenia are more likely to be violent if
their hallucinations generate negative emotions (anger, anxiety, sadness) and
if the patients have not developed successful strategies to cope with their
voices (Cheung, Schweitzer, Crowley & Tuckwell, 1997).
In a review of seven controlled studies examining the relationship be-
tween command hallucinations and violence, no study demonstrated a posi-
tive relationship between command hallucinations and violence, and one
found an inverse relationship (Rudnick, 1999). A positive relationship be-
tween violence in the presence of command hallucinations was found when
the voice was familiar to the person and when the act commanded was less
serious. In contrast, McNiel, Eisner and Binder (2000) reported that in a
study of 103 civil psychiatric inpatients, 33 percent reported having had
command hallucinations to harm others during the prior year and 22 percent
of the patients reported that they complied with such commands. The
authors concluded that patients in their study who experienced command
hallucinations to harm others were more than twice as likely to be violent.
Junginger (1990) reported that command hallucinations were more likely
to be followed in the presence of a delusion whose content was related to the
hallucination. In the MacArthur Foundation’s Violence Risk Assessment
Study (MacArthur Foundation, 2001), there was no relationship between the
presence of general hallucinations or nonviolent command hallucinations
and violence. However, there was a relationship between command halluci-
nations to commit violence and actual violence (MacArthur Foundation,
2001; Monahan et al., 2001). In addition to evaluating positive symptoms of
psychosis, clinicians should also assess their patients’ insight into their illness
and into the potential legal complications of their illness. Buckley and col-
leagues (2004) found that violent patients with schizophrenia had more
prominent lack of insight regarding their illness and legal complications of
their behavior when compared with a nonviolent comparison group.
However, a subsequent research study of 209 schizophrenic patients fol-
lowed for two years after hospital discharge found that aggressive behavior
was more strongly associated with high scores for psychopathy traits and
positive symptoms than with lack of insight (Lincoln & Hodgins, 2008).
Delusions and hallucinations are prominent symptoms of schizophrenia.
Although most individuals with schizophrenia do not behave violently
(Walsh, Buchanan & Fahy, 2002), there is emerging evidence that a diagno-
sis of schizophrenia is associated with an increase in criminal offending. In a
retrospective review of 2861 Australian patients with schizophrenia followed
over a twenty-five-year period, Wallace, Mullen, and Burgess (2004) found
that patients with schizophrenia accumulated a greater total number of crim-
76 Applied Criminal Psychology

inal convictions and were significantly more likely to have been convicted of
a criminal offense (including violent offenses) relative to matched compari-
son subjects. These authors noted that the criminal behaviors committed by
schizophrenic patients could not be entirely accounted for by comorbid sub-
stance use, active symptoms, or characteristics of systems of care (Wallace et
al., 2004). In data from the Clinical Antipsychotic Trials of Intervention Ef-
fectiveness (CATIE) project, researchers clinically assessed and interviewed
1410 schizophrenia patients about violent behavior. The six-month preva-
lence of any violence was 19.1 percent with 3.6 percent of individuals report-
ing serious violence. Positive symptoms, including persecutory ideation, in-
creased the risk of both minor and serious violence. In contrast, negative
symptoms, such as social withdrawal, actually lowered the risk of serious vio-
lence (Swanson et al., 2006).

Mood Disorders and Violence Risk

Depression may result in violent behavior, particularly in depressed indi-
viduals who strike out against others in despair. After committing a violent
act, the depressed person may attempt suicide. Depression is the most com-
mon diagnosis in murder-suicides (Marzuk, Tardiff & Hirsch, 1992), which is
discussed in detail later.
Patients with mania show a high percentage of assaultive or threatening
behavior, but serious violence itself is rare (Krakowski et al., 1986). Addi-
tionally, patients with mania show considerably less criminality of all kinds
than do patients with schizophrenia. Patients with mania most commonly
exhibit violent behavior when they are restrained or have limits set on their
behavior (Tardiff & Sweillam, 1980). However, active manic symptoms ap-
pear to play a substantial role in criminal behavior. In a study of sixty-six
inmates with bipolar disorder, 74 percent were manic and 59 percent were
psychotic at the time of their arrest (Quanbeck et al., 2004).

Cognitive Impairment and Violence Risk

Brain injury or illness can also result in aggressive behavior. After a brain
injury, formerly normal individuals may become verbally and physically ag-
gressive (National Institutes of Health, 1998). Characteristic features of ag-
gression resulting from a brain injury include reactive behavior triggered by
trivial stimuli, lack of planning or reflection, nonpurposeful action with no
clear aims or goals, explosive outbursts without a gradual build up, an
episodic pattern with long periods of relative calm, and feelings of concern
and remorse following an episode.
 Risk Assessment 77

Personality Factors and Violence Risk

Violence is also associated with certain personality traits and disorders.
Although borderline (Meloy, 1992; Tardiff & Sweillam, 1980) and sadistic
(Meloy, 1992) personality disorders are associated with increased violence,
the most common personality disorder associated with violence is antisocial
personality disorder (APD) (MacArthur Foundation, 2001). The violence by
those with APD is often motivated by revenge or occurs during a period of
heavy drinking. Violence among these persons is frequently cold and calcu-
lated and lacks emotionality (Williamson, Hare & Wong, 1987). Low IQ and
APD are a particularly ominous combination for increasing the risk of future
violence (Heilbrun, 1990). It is important to assess for the presence of APD-
s in individuals with a major mental illness. When compared with schizo-
phrenic patients without APD, offenders with both schizophrenia and APD
are less likely to have violence that is prompted by psychotic symptoms.
Their violence is more likely to be associated with alcohol use and an alter-
cation with the victim prior to violence and be against a victim who is not a
family member ( Joyal, Putkonen, Paavola & Tiihonen, 2004).
Adults may have personality traits that increase their risk for violent be-
havior but may still not meet the criteria for a personality disorder. Person-
ality traits associated with violence include impulsivity (Borum et al., 1996),
low frustration tolerance, inability to tolerate criticism, repetitive antisocial
behavior, reckless driving, a sense of entitlement, superficiality, and narcis-
sism (Svindseth, Noettestad, Wallin, Roaldset & Dahl, 2008). The violence
associated with these personality traits usually has a paroxysmal, episodic
quality. When interviewed, these people often have poor insight into their
behavior and frequently blame others for their difficulties (Reid & Balis,
1987).
In addition to Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (4th ed.,
text revision) (DSM-IV-TR) personality disorders or traits, the clinician
should also be familiar with the psychological construct known as psychopa-
thy. The term psychopath was described by Cleckley (1976) as an individual
who is superficially charming, lacks empathy, lacks close relationships, is
impulsive, and is concerned primarily with self-gratification. Hare and col-
leagues developed the Psychopathy Checklist-Revised (PCL-R) (Hare, 1991)
as a validated measure of psychopathy in adults. The concept of psychopa-
thy is important because the presence of psychopathy is a strong predictor of
criminal behavior generally and violence among adults (Salekin, Rogers &
Sewell, 1996). It is more predictive of violence than is a diagnosis of APD.
78 Applied Criminal Psychology

ASSESSING CURRENT DANGEROUSNESS

When conducting an assessment of current dangerousness, pay close

attention to the individual’s affect. Individuals who are angry and lack empa-
thy for others are at increased risk for violent behavior (Menzies, Webster &
Sepejak, 1985). In the MacArthur Study of Mental Disorder and Violence,
subjects with high anger scores as measured by the Novaco Anger Scale were
twice as likely to have engaged in violent behavior when compared with sub-
jects with low anger scores (Monahan et al., 2001).
When evaluating a patient with persecutory delusions, the clinician should
also inquire if the patient has employed “safety actions.” Safety actions are
specific behaviors (such as avoidance of a perceived persecutor or an escape
from a fearful situation) that the individual has employed with the intention
of minimizing a misperceived threat. In one study of 100 patients with cur-
rent persecutory delusions, more than 95 percent reported using safety be-
haviors in the past month. In this study, individuals with a prior history of vi-
olence reported a greater current use of safety behaviors, and safety behav-
iors were significantly associated with acting on delusions (Freeman et al.,
2007).
All threats should be taken seriously and details fully elucidated. Under-
standing how a violent act will be carried out and the expected consequences
for the patient helps the clinician in assessing the degree of danger. In addi-
tion, fully considering the consequences of an act may help the patient elect
an alternative coping strategy. For example, a patient may be focused on
revenge against his wife because of her infidelity. When confronted with the
likelihood of spending many years in prison, he may decide to divorce his
wife instead. Additional information that should be elicited includes poten-
tial grudge lists, investigation of the subject’s fantasies of violence (MacAr-
thur Foundation, 2001), and a careful assessment of the future victim if one
has been identified. Finally, the clinician should assess the suicide risk in any
patient making a homicidal threat. Violent suicide attempts increase the like-
lihood of future violence toward others (Brizer, 1989; Convit, Jaeger, Lin,
Meisner & Volavka, 1988). One study found that 91 percent of outpatients
who had attempted homicide also had attempted suicide and that 86 percent
of patients with homicidal ideation also reported suicidal ideation (Asnis,
Kaplan, Hundorfean & Saeed, 1997).
When organizing strategies to decrease those risk factors that may con-
tribute to future violence, clinicians should distinguish static from dynamic
risk factors. By definition, static factors are not subject to change by inter-
vention. Static factors include such items as demographic information and
past history of violence. Dynamic factors are subject to change with inter-
vention and include such factors as access to weapons, acute psychotic symp-
toms, active substance use, and a person’s living setting. The clinician may
 Risk Assessment 79

find it helpful to organize a chart that outlines known risk factors, manage-
ment and treatment strategies to address dynamic risk factors and the current
status of each risk factor. This approach will assist in the development of a
violence prevention plan that addresses the unique combination of risk fac-
tors for a particular patient.

EVALUATION OF SPECIAL POPULATIONS

Stalking
Approximately one in twelve women and one in forty-five men will be
stalked at some point in their lifetime. Nearly 90 percent of stalkers are men,
and most female and male victims know their stalker. Women are more like-
ly than men (59% vs. 30%) to be stalked by an intimate partner. Although the
average duration of stalking is 1.8 years, the duration increases to 2.2 years
when the stalking relationship involves an intimate partner. More than 70
percent of current or former intimate partners verbally threaten their victim
with violence. Eighty-one percent of women stalked by a current or prior
partner are eventually physically assaulted; more than 30 percent will be sex-
ually assaulted (Tjaden & Thoennes, 1998).
Stalking can occur in a variety of circumstances, including attempts to
contact the victim directly or indirectly through the phone, mail, faxes, or
personal notes left at a particular location. With the advent of electronic com-
munication, stalkers may employ cyberspace technology and the Internet to
maintain contact with their victim through emails. They may also gather
information about the victim using common search engines (McGrath &
Casey, 2002). Text messaging or short message service (SMS) via a mobile
phone represents yet another developing method for the stalker to maintain
communication with the victim without actual physical contact (Eytan &
Borras, 2005).
All fifty states, the federal government, and the District of Columbia now
classify stalking as a crime. Although precise statutory definitions vary, most
stalking statutes incorporate the following elements:
• A course of conduct
• The conduct is directed at a specific person
• The conduct results in a reasonable person experiencing fear
The degree of danger posed by a stalker depends on a variety of factors.
Intervention plans to curb or stop stalking behavior should be tailored to
each specific case. General recommendations noted to reduce the impact of
stalking include the following (Mullen, Pathe & Purcell, 2000):
80 Applied Criminal Psychology

• Communicating early and clearly that any contact and attention is

unwanted
• Carefully protecting personal information, including limiting distribu-
tion of home address, telephone numbers, and cyberspace informa-
tion
• Informing trusted others at home and work to prevent inadvertent dis-
closure of information and to protect their safety
• Contacting appropriate agencies such as police, victim support orga-
nizations, mental health clinics, and domestic and sexual violence pro-
grams when applicable
• Documenting and preserving all stalker contacts
• Recording all phone calls on an answering machine and keeping a
separate private line for personal calls
• Obtaining self-defense training
• Avoiding all contact and confrontations
The decision to obtain a restraining order against the stalker is one that re-
quires careful consideration and may be ineffective or actually inflammatory
in certain situations. In particular, Orion (1997) emphasized that restraining
orders are likely to be ineffective against exintimates, who are heavily invest-
ed in the relationship, and erotomanic or delusional stalkers, who view legal
orders as not applicable to their situation. DeBecker (1997) notes that
restraining orders are most likely to be effective in those situations that
involve a casual acquaintance with limited emotional investment and no
prior history of violence. If a decision is made to obtain a restraining order,
the victim should be aware that stalkers are at higher risk to act violently
immediately following the issuance of the order, so additional precautions
should be taken. A protection order should be viewed as only one compo-
nent of a comprehensive plan designed to minimize risk to the victim and
may not be appropriate for every case.

Murder-Suicide
Murder-suicide occurs when an individual commits suicide after taking
the life of another person. The National Violent Death Reporting System
(NVDRS) defines a murder-suicide as including only those suicides that oc-
cur within a twenty-four-hour period after a murder (Bossarte, Simon & Bar-
ker, 2006), whereas other authors extend this period up to one week (Marzuk
et al., 1992). Various labels have been used to describe the phenomenon of
murderers who subsequently take their life and include homicide-suicide,
dyadic death, doubly violent aggression, and despondent killers.
Because there is no national surveillance system for murder-suicide in the
United States, the exact prevalence is difficult to determine. In most studies,
 Risk Assessment 81

murder-suicide rates have been reported to range from 0.2 to 0.3 per 100,000
persons (Coid, 1983; Marzuk et al., 1992; Milroy, 1995) although rates as
high as 0.4 to 0.5 per 100,000 persons have also been noted (Hannah, Turf &
Fierro, 1998; Hanzlick & Koponen, 1994).
Marzuk and associates (1992) proposed a murder-suicide typology based
on the relationship between the perpetrator and the victim. The proposed ca-
tegories of murder-suicide are (1) spousal/consortial, (2) familial, and (3) ex-
trafamilial.

Spousal/Consortial Murder-Suicides
Numerous studies indicate that most murder-suicides involve male perpe-
trators who kill spouses or intimates (Aderibigbe, 1997; Felthous & Hempel,
1995; Malphurs & Cohen, 2002; Marzuk et al., 1992; Milroy, Dratsas &
Ranson, 1997; Palermo et al., 1997). Nearly one third of men who kill their
spouse or partner will commit suicide, a statistical phenomena not matched
by females who kill intimate partners (Bossarte et al., 2006). Common psy-
chiatric diagnoses in perpetrators of couple murder-suicides include depres-
sion (Rosenbaum, 1990) and alcohol intoxication or abuse (Comstock et al.,
2005).
Marzuk, Tardiff, and Hirsch (1992) divide spousal/consortial murder-sui-
cides into two subtypes: (1) amorous-jealous and (2) declining health. The amor-
ous-jealous subtype is the most common, representing between 50 percent
and 75 percent of all spousal/consortial murder-suicides. In the amorous-
jealous subtype, the perpetrator is commonly a young man who kills his
spouse or girlfriend with a firearm in a jealous rage during a period of actu-
al or impending separation (Marzuk et al., 1992). More recent studies of
homicide-suicide in older persons also note that interpersonal conflict
remains a potential trigger for these deaths, particularly in an older man mar-
ried to a younger woman (Cohen, Llorente, & Eisdorfer, 1998).
In the declining health subtype, the murderer is typically an older man
(potentially in poor health) caring for his ailing wife. The perpetrator may
believe his actions are altruistic and serve as a mercy homicide. Sometimes
both parties view their deaths as a dual suicide pact, but usually the male is
the decision maker.

Murder-Suicides of Family Members

Murder-suicides may involve a perpetrator who kills one or more family
members other than a spouse or intimate partner. In an Australian study
examining murder-suicides of children over a twenty-nine-year period, re-
searchers found that when fathers killed their children, they were more like-
82 Applied Criminal Psychology

ly to also kill their spouse in contrast to mothers who killed only their chil-
dren. Furthermore, compared to men, women tended to use less violent me-
thods to commit murder and suicide (Byard, Knight, James & Gilbert, 1999).
Filicide is broadly defined as the murder of a child by a parent. Three types
of filicide include (1) neonaticide, the murder of a child less than one day old;
(2) infancticide, the murder of a child older than one day and less than one
year old; (3) pedicide-murder of a child older than one year and less than age
sixteen.
High rates of suicide following a filicide have been noted, with between 16
percent and 29 percent of mothers and 40 percent and 60 percent of fathers
taking their life after murdering their child (Hatters Friedman, Hrouda,
Holden, Noffsinger & Resnick, 2005; Marzuk et al., 1992; Rodenburg, 1971).
In a study of thirty family filicide-suicide files, the most common motive in-
volved an attempt by the perpetrator to relieve real or imagined suffering of
the child, an action known as an altruistic filicide. Eighty percent of the par-
ents in this study had evidence of a past or current psychiatric history, with
nearly 60 percent suffering from depression, 27 percent with psychosis, and
20 percent experiencing delusional beliefs (Hatters-Friedman et al., 2005).
Familicide is defined as the murder of an entire family. These family anni-
hilators are usually men suffering from depression, intoxication, or both
(Dietz, 1986). Risk factors associated with family annihilation include ongo-
ing marital conflict, anger over separation, illness in a child, and financial
stress (Hatters-Friedman et al., 2005; Morton, Runyan, Moracco & Butts,
1998). In certain cases, the perpetrator believes that murdering the family
members will alleviate future suffering and views his action as altruistic. Rare
cases of depressed or psychotic adolescents have also been described in
which children kill their entire family prior to taking their own life (Malm-
quist, 2006).
Because of the high rates of mental illness in parents who kill their chil-
dren, evaluators should carefully consider the possibility that their de-
pressed, suicidal, or psychotic patients who are parents may represent a po-
tential risk of harm to their child. In addition to a standard suicide risk assess-
ment, the clinician should explore areas that may assist in preventing a trag-
ic death (Hatters-Friedman et al., 2005). Suggested questions include the fol-
lowing:
• What do you believe will happen to your child if you die or commit
suicide?
• Do you have any fears or concerns that your child may be harmed by
others?
• Do you have any worries regarding your child’s health or unnecessary
suffering?
 Risk Assessment 83

• Are you having any thoughts about harming your child?

• Have you taken any steps to harm your child?
• If you have had thoughts of harming your child, what has kept you
from doing so thus far?

Extrafamilial Murder-Suicides
Suicides following the murder of a nonfamily member or intimate partner
are relatively rare. Murder-suicides outside the family have occurred in the
workplace; schools; and public settings, such as malls or tourist locations.
Such perpetrators have also been referred to as mass killers or rampage
killers.
The perpetrator of a mass murder typically is a heavily armed male who
randomly shoots individuals before turning the gun on himself. The mur-
derer may initially target a person with whom he has a grudge and subse-
quently expand his rampage to random victims. Such perpetrators are likely
to be depressed and may frequently suffer from obsessional traits with
marked hypersensitivity and paranoia. Mullen (2004) found the following
seven characteristics of perpetrators of autogenic massacres who survived
despite their intent to commit suicide:

• male
• less than forty years of age
• social isolate without close relationships
• unemployed or minimally employed
• bullied or isolated as a child, or both
• fascinated with weapons
• collector of weapons
These murderers may provoke law enforcement personnel to kill them
after their murders, a phenomena known as suicide by cop. One study of
ninety-eight lone U.S. rampage killers found that those who were ultimately
killed by police officers had the largest number of victims when compared
with those who committed suicide or who were ultimately captured (Lester,
Stack, Schmidtke, Schaller & Muller, 2005).

STRUCTURED RISK ASSESSMENTS OF VIOLENCE

Standardized risk assessment instruments for the prediction of violence

are being used increasingly by clinicians in conjunction with their clinical
violence risk assessments. The goals of these prediction schemes are to assist
the clinician in gathering appropriate data and to anchor clinicians’ assess-
84 Applied Criminal Psychology

ments to established research. One of the most validated risk-assessment

instruments is the PCL. The Hare PCL-R (Hare, 1991) is a clinical construct
rating scale designed to measure psychopathic attributes in individuals.
Individuals who score higher on this measurement of psychopathy have
been shown to have higher rates of violent recidivism. The PCL-R uses a
semi-structured interview, case-history information, and specific scoring cri-
teria to rate each of twenty items on a three-point scale (0, 1, 2) according to
the extent to which it applies to a given individual. Total scores (ranging from
0 to 40) reflect an estimate of the degree to which the individual matches the
prototypical psychopath. In North America, the cutoff score for psychopathy
is 30 or greater. A screening version of the PCL-R, known as the PCL-SV,
has also been developed. The PCL-SV has been shown to have good pre-
dictive validity for institutional violence (Hill, Rogers & Bickford, 1996) and
community violence (Monahan et al., 2001). Concerns about using the PCL-
R as the sole assessment of dangerousness include its inability to capture pro-
tective, mediating, and moderating factors against future violent behavior
(Rogers, 2000) and the potential to overpredict violent behavior (Freedman,
2001).
The Violence Risk Appraisal Guide (VRAG) is another actuarial risk
assessment instrument that consists of twelve items, one of which is psy-
chopathy as defined by the PCL-R. The VRAG instrument was derived from
information about 618 patients at a maximum security hospital providing
assessment and treatment services for persons received from the courts, cor-
rectional services, and other provincial psychiatric hospitals in Canada
(Webster, Harris & Rice, 1994). A third risk assessment instrument is the
HCR-20, which combines the assessment of historical risk factors and clini-
cal judgment regarding risk management. The HCR-20 (Webster, Douglas,
Eaves & Hart, 1997) is a broadband violence risk assessment instrument with
twenty items divided into historical, clinical, and risk management items.
One of the items is the presence or absence of psychopathy as determined
by the PCL-R (Webster et al., 1997). An assessment tool commonly used in
correctional settings is the Level of Service Inventory-Revised (LSI-R). The
LSI-R is a combined risk and needs assessment tool developed in Canada
whose measurements have been validated in North America. The LSI-R
consists of fifty-four items and is composed of ten subscales. The LSI-R score
indicates the likelihood of recidivism and suggests interventions based on the
score (Andrews & Bonta, 1995).
A recent tool for the purpose of assessing the violence risk of individuals
discharged from civil psychiatric facilities is known as the Iterative Classifica-
tion Tree (ICT). This approach utilizes a sequence of questions related to risk
factors for potential violence. Contingent on the answer to a question, one or
another second question is posed, until the individual is classified into a cat-
 Risk Assessment 85

egory of high or low risk of future violence (Monahan et al., 2001). In a sam-
ple of 939 male and female civil psychiatric patients followed after hospital
discharge, the ICT classified 72.6 percent of the sample as either low risk or
high risk. This tool shows promise in the assessment of future violence for
periods up to twenty weeks. However, the extent to which the accuracy of
the ICT generalizes to other types of clinical settings such as from forensic
hospitals is currently unknown.
Actuarial models have inherent limitations when used exclusively. Specific
criticisms of actuarial instruments include the following: they provide only
approximations of risk, their use is not generalizable beyond the studied pop-
ulations on which they are based, they are rigid and lacking sensitivity to
change and they fail to inform violence prevention and risk management
(Douglas, Ogloff & Hart, 2003). Although actuarial models attempt to stan-
dardize the practice of dangerousness assessment, they are not designed to
be the sole standard for violence assessment. Actuarial tools are useful in
assisting clinicians in reaching reasonable conclusions based on research
findings (Borum et al., 1996), but the evaluator must also consider the immi-
nence and severity of violence that may not be reflected in an actuarial
instrument alone (Glancy & Chaimowitz, 2005).
Mental health clinicians faced with large caseloads may not have sufficient
time to complete the more time-consuming actuarial risk assessment instru-
ments. To help address this concern, Wootton and associates (2008) followed
708 general psychiatric patients with a psychotic disorder for two years to
determine if readily available clinical information was useful in predicting
assaultive behavior. These researchers developed a simple screening tool
based on age, sex, self-reported history of violence, and illicit drug use that
had a level of predictive accuracy comparable to more detailed risk assess-
ment tools.

DUTY TO POTENTIAL VICTIMS

The duty of clinicians to third parties (individuals with whom the clinician
does not have a treating relationship) has expanded significantly during the
last thirty years. In the United States, one person is not ordinarily responsi-
ble for the violence that a second person inflicts on a third, unless the first
person had a special relationship with the second. The seminal U.S. case
establishing that the outpatient-therapist relationship is such a “special” rela-
tionship is Tarasoff v. Regents of the University of California (1976).
In Tarasoff the court held that “When a therapist determines, or pursuant
to the standards of his profession should determine that his patient presents
a serious danger of violence to another, he incurs an obligation to use rea-
86 Applied Criminal Psychology

sonable care to protect the intended victim against such danger. The dis-
charge of this duty may require the therapist to take one or more of various
steps. Thus, it may call for him to warn the intended victim, to notify police,
or to take whatever steps are reasonably necessary under the circumstances.”
Clinicians have various options in fulfilling their requirement to protect
under the Tarasoff doctrine. When possible, the threat of violence should be
handled as a treatment issue. In some cases, the patient can be involved in
the notification of the victim. If necessary, the therapist may notify the int-
ended victim and police against the patient’s wishes. Another option is vol-
untary hospitalization of the patient. If the individual refuses and there is an
imminent risk of harm, the clinician must consider involuntary commitment.
If the patient does not meet involuntary commitment criteria, other “reason-
able steps” that may be implemented include (1) increasing the frequency of
outpatient appointments, (2) adjusting medications, (3) involving family or
friends in an attempt to control the patient, and (4) removing weapons from
the home (Tardiff, 1989).

CONCLUSION

The assessment of potential violence is an important area when evaluating

psychiatric patients in both an outpatient and an inpatient setting. The clini-
cian should be familiar with the relationship of various mental health symp-
toms to a patient’s potential future aggression. Despite improvement in the
field of risk assessment, the prediction of violence remains an inexact sci-
ence. Predicting violence has been compared with forecasting the weather.
Like a good weather forecaster, the clinician does not state with certainty that
an event will occur. Instead, he or she estimates the likelihood that a future
event will occur. Like weather forecasting, predictions of future violence will
not always be correct. However, gathering a detailed past history and using
appropriate risk assessment instruments help make the risk assessment as
accurate as possible.

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 Part B
DECEIT, MEMORY, AND
CONFESSIONS
 Chapter Five

THE DETECTION OF DECEIT

PÄR ANDERS G RANHAG AND LEIF A. STRÖMWALL

D eceit occurs in all walks of life and in many day-to-day situations it

would make little sense to try to unmask the possible liar (e.g. is today’s
special really as fresh as the waitress claims?). However, in some situations,
we may feel a need to carefully separate what is truthful from what is not (e.g.
should I accept my partner’s reason for coming home that late last night?).
In this chapter, we will examine deception detection in legal contexts, with
a particular focus on deceit in criminal investigations. It is a small task to rec-
ognize why deception is an important issue within legal settings: to correctly
discriminate between truth and deceit will lead to much good (guilty suspects
will be sentenced, and innocent suspects cleared of suspicion), whereas
incorrect judgments may have very negative effects (guilty suspects can walk
free, and innocent suspect may be convicted).
The topic of deception was studied already at the dawn of legal psycholo-
gy. In 1908 Hugo Münsterberg published On the Witness Stand, in which he
touches upon the issue of deception detection. The modern research on
deception started at the end of the 1960s (Ekman & Friesen, 1969), and sum-
ming up forty years of research on deception, we face an impressive corpus
of scientific papers (see Vrij, 2008, for an up-to-date overview). Because the
field still expands quickly, it makes sense to take stock of the area.
Before we start the journey, it is good to agree on how to define deception.
This is not an easy task, however. Deception has been studied within many
different disciplines, such as linguistics, psychiatry, philosophy, and human
communication, and scholars from these and other disciplines have suggest-
ed a number of different definitions (Granhag & Strömwall, 2004a). For the
present context, however, we think it suffices to go with the definition offered
by Vrij (2008): deception is “a successful or unsuccessful attempt, without

95
96 Applied Criminal Psychology

forewarning, to create in another a belief which the communicator considers

to be untrue” (p. 15). Note that lying is an intentional act and that misre-
membering is not the same as lying.
The chapter is structured as follows. We start with a summary of the
research conducted on objective nonverbal cues to deception; some under-
lying theoretical approaches are outlined; and the overall findings are
reviewed together with some factors that moderate people’s overt behavior.
In the next section, we discuss research findings pertaining to subjective cues
to deception (i.e. what people think characterizes deceptive behavior). We
then summarize research on people’s ability to detect deception, in terms of
both overall findings and factors that are known to moderate a lie-catcher’s
performance. Next we review research on how to detect deception from ver-
bal content, and we focus on two such methods: Statement Validity Assessment
(SVA) and Reality Monitoring (RM). We then enter the much-debated issue of
psychophysiological lie detection, and we describe and review research on
the two most common forms of polygraph tests: the Control Question Tests
(CQT) and the Guilty Knowledge Test (GKT). Next we briefly discuss some
alternative methods for detecting deception: brain scanning, the Scientific
Content Analysis (SCAN), and two forms of analysis of voice stress. We then
introduce a new promising technique for detecting deception: the Strategic
Use of Evidence (SUE) technique. The theoretical framework motivating the
SUE technique is described, and we comment briefly on how psychological
theory can be translated to interview tactics. We close the chapter by sum-
marizing the most important findings.

OBJECTIVE NONVERBAL CUES TO DECEPTION

Theoretical Approaches
Trying to find a telltale sign of deceit (a “Pinocchio’s nose”) in human non-
verbal behavior has been the subject of much research effort. Both in lay
people’s thinking and in, for example, police interrogation manuals there are
numerous ideas about detecting deceit from cues such as eye contact or ges-
tures (see Vrij, 2008). Included in the concept nonverbal behavior are body
movements (e.g. gestures and leg movement), facial indicators (e.g. eye con-
tact, smiling), and speech behaviors (sometimes called paraverbal behaviors;
e.g. response latency and pitch of voice) (DePaulo et al., 2003; Sporer &
Schwandt, 2006; Vrij, 2008).
There is not one solid theory to be used in order to predict how liars and
truth-tellers differ with respect to their overt behavior (Granhag & Strömwall,
2004a). It is possible, however, to identify a number of different theoretical
approaches, and five of these will be summarized here.
 The Detection of Deceit 97

The Emotional Approach

This approach suggests that liars might be given away by their emotions
(Ekman, 2001). Specifically, experiencing emotions when lying is predicted
to have behavioral consequences. For example, fear of apprehension may
cause liars to experience stress and arousal, the pitch of voice will rise, blush-
ing and sweating will increase, and so on, whereas feelings of guilt and regret
will cause gaze aversion.

The Attempted Control Approach

This approach suggests that liars are aware that internal processes (such as
emotions) could result in cues to deception and that they therefore will try to
minimize such cues (Vrij, 2008). However, controlling one’s behavior may in
itself result in cues to deception (DePaulo & Kirkendol, 1989). For example,
trying to inhibit movements caused by nervousness may result in overcon-
trol, which in turn can lead to a rigid appearance.

The Content Complexity Approach

This approach was first outlined by Zuckerman, DePaulo, and Rosenthal
(1981), and it departs from the hypothesis that lying is (sometimes) more cog-
nitively demanding than telling the truth, and that engaging in cognitively
complex tasks may result in behavioral cues. For example, it has been pre-
dicted that a cognitively demanding task will result in fewer body move-
ments and long pauses within a statement as well as between the interview-
er’s question and the reply (Ekman & Friesen, 1972).

The New Cognitive Load Approach

This recent approach has been developed by Vrij and his colleagues (Vrij,
Mann, Fisher & Leal, 2008), and draws to some extent on the attempted con-
trol approach and the content complexity approach (Vrij, 2008). However,
the approach is original in its view of the cognitive load component. The
core component is that lying is (sometimes) more difficult than telling the
truth, and several reasons are put forward in order to support this claim (e.g.
liars need to monitor both themselves and the people they are lying to, and
they need to remind themselves to role-play). Interestingly, brain-scanning
studies confirm this assumption by showing that lying (more than telling the
truth) activates the higher brain center (Spence et al., 2006). The main pre-
diction is that when lying results in heightened levels of cognitive load, signs
of nervousness (e.g. blinking) will decrease.
98 Applied Criminal Psychology

The Self-Presentational Perspective

This approach is different because it emphasizes that liars and truth tellers
have the same goal: to appear honest. Self-presentation is defined as regulat-
ing one’s own behavior to create a particular impression (DePaulo, 1992).
The major difference is that truth tellers have grounds for their claims and
they stay within the boundaries of the truth. Hence, liars and truth tellers are
predicted to differ cognitively and behaviorally. For example, due to the fact
that liars are aware that their claims of honesty are illegitimate, it is predict-
ed that they will embrace their statements to a lesser extent than truth tellers
will, and, in turn, that this will lead to more negative feelings and make liars
appear more tense (DePaulo et al., 2003).

Overall Findings
To find out about potential nonverbal correlates of deception, researchers
instruct some people to lie or tell the truth, or both (the lies are most often
“constructed” for the sake of the experiment), and videotape the truths and
lies told in interviews or mock interrogations. If focus is on the speech-relat-
ed variables, audiotapes are of course a sufficient source. Then these video-
tapes are closely analyzed and the frequency or duration, or both, of a list of
nonverbal behaviors are scored and then summarized for truths and lies sep-
arately. If statistical comparisons show significant differences, researchers
conclude that there are systematic nonverbal signs of deceit and truthfulness.
In this section, findings from several meta-analyses and research overviews
are summarized (DePaulo et al., 2003; Vrij, 2008).
In general, nonverbal behaviors do not correlate strongly with either
deception or truthfulness; very few reliable nonverbal cues to deception have
been found. There is some evidence that liars tend to speak with a higher
pitched voice, which might be the result of experienced arousal. However,
differences in pitch between liars and truth tellers are usually small and
detectable only with specialized equipment. Furthermore, sometimes liars’
voices sound more tense than do truth tellers’ voices, another result of
arousal. Speech errors (for example, word and sentence repetition, sentence
incompletions, slips of the tongue) occur more often during deception, and
response latency is longer before giving deceptive answers. There is also
some evidence for message duration being shorter for liars, who also tend to
make fewer illustrators (hand and arm movements modifying what is said
verbally). Moreover, compared with truth tellers, liars tend to sound vocally
less expressive, more passive, and more uncertain. Liars also sound less
involved and come across as being less cooperative, and tending to make
more negative statements (DePaulo et al., 2003).
 The Detection of Deceit 99

Perhaps the most remarkable outcome of the reviews is that several signs
of nervousness, such as gaze aversion (eye contact) and fidgeting, are gener-
ally unrelated to deception. One reason why nervous behaviors do not seem
to be systematically related to deception is that truth tellers could be nervous
as well (DePaulo et al., 2003); a complementary reason is that liars work hard
to suppress signs of nervousness.
Presented so far are results at the general level, across all available studies
without taking into account presumably important differences in the experi-
mental designs. There are however, a few moderating factors that have been
studied often enough to allow for interesting reflections.

MODERATING FACTORS

Transgressions
A factor most relevant to the forensic context is the distinction between
lies that were and were not about transgressions. Lies about transgressions
are told to hide or deny acts, or both such as cheating, stealing, and com-
mitting other small and large crimes. Will differences between liars’ and
truthtellers’ nonverbal behavior emerge when they have been interviewed
about transgressions they have or have not committed? The results indicate
that people lying about transgressions look more nervous than truthtellers
do; they also blink more and have a faster speech rate. Additionally, they are
more inhibited than truthtellers are in the sense that they move their feet and
legs less often (DePaulo et al., 2003).

Motivation
In many experimental studies, the liars did not have any special motiva-
tion to tell a convincing lie and simply participated with no special rewards
for succeeding or punishments for failing. It is of importance to separate
those studies in which participants had some special motivation to do well
from those in which they did not. The question, then, is: If people are moti-
vated to get away with their lies, will there be fewer cues to deception
because they are trying harder to tell a good lie, or will their lies become
more obvious as the stakes are raised? Research shows that when partici-
pants had no special incentives there were no obvious nonverbal cues to
deception, which, in turn, leads to the conclusion that when people do not
have very much invested in their lies, others will have a very hard time
detecting the deceit. However, when liars do worry about getting away with
their lies, then several behaviors may betray them. It is only when partici-
100 Applied Criminal Psychology

pants are motivated to do well that they speak in a higher pitch when lying
than when telling the truth. Although liars also seem more tense than truth
tellers do regardless of level of motivation, the difference is pronounced for
those who are highly motivated to get away with their lies. In the previous
section, in which results were summarized over all studies, we found no dif-
ferences in eye contact between liars and truthtellers. When participants are
motivated to do well, however, then one stereotype about liars becomes a
reality: They make less eye contact than truth tellers do. There is also some
evidence that, under high motivational conditions, liars made fewer foot and
leg movements than did truthtellers (DePaulo et al., 2003).

Preparation
Sometimes suspects know in advance that they are going to be inter-
viewed, which gives them a chance to prepare their answers. Presumably,
liars should manage to appear more like truthtellers when they can plan their
answers in advance than when they cannot. The available research indicates
that when liars have time to plan, they have shorter response latency than
truthtellers do. When given no time to prepare, the opposite pattern is found.
There is also some evidence that liars show shorter message duration than
truthtellers do when they have time to prepare (Sporer & Schwandt, 2006).

Real-Life Cases
Although researchers have in some studies tried to raise the motivation of
and stakes for lying by participants, the question still remains how the results
from laboratory-based studies reflect what may happen in real-life high-stake
situations such as police interviews. In a few studies, the behavior of real-life
suspects, interviewed about serious crimes such as murder, rape and arson —
for which suspects face long prison sentences if found guilty — has been
examined. Results revealed that these suspects did not show the nervous
behaviors typically believed to be associated with lying, such as gaze aver-
sion and fidgeting. In fact, they exhibited an increase in pauses; a decrease
in eye blinks; and (for male suspects) a decrease in finger, hand, and arm
movements (Mann, Vrij & Bull, 2002; Vrij & Mann 2001).
In summary, the scientific research shows that under certain conditions
there seem to be some — but very few — differences between truthtellers and
liars in their nonverbal behavior. However, it is of great importance to real-
ize that these differences, albeit significant in meta-analyses, are not large and
the practical value may be quite low. None of the behaviors discussed here
can be used as a fail-safe decision rule. The available research thus indicates
that there are no nonverbal indicators of deception that always works – there
is no “Pinocchio’s nose.”
 The Detection of Deceit 101

SUBJECTIVE NONVERBAL CUES TO DECEPTION

This section deals with what people think is indicative of deception — the
subjective cues to deception (sometimes referred to as belief about decep-
tion). Lots of research has been conducted on this issue, and the most
straightforward approach is to simply ask participants to describe the cues
they believe to occur more or less often when people are lying, compared
with when people are telling the truth. These answers can be given on a
series of rating scales as in most survey studies. Another method is to have
people judging the veracity of stimuli material (most often videotaped inter-
views) and then writing down why they thought someone was lying or telling
the truth. A third alternative is for the researcher to score the nonverbal
behavior of the liars and truth tellers and to correlate these scores with the
veracity judgments to see which cues to deception observers actually used
(Anderson, DePaulo, Ansfield, Tickle, & Green, 1999; Vrij, 2008). Research
has been carried out collecting the subjective cues to deception from both
laypersons and practitioners within the legal arena.

Lay people
Research on subjective nonverbal indicators of deception has shown that
people (community samples, college students) tend to associate lying with an
increase in speech disturbances such as hesitations and speech errors, a slow-
er speech rate, longer and more frequent pauses, more gaze aversion, and an
increase in smiling and movements such as self-manipulations, gestures,
hand and finger and leg and foot movements (Vrij, 2008). Generally, these
subjective deception cues are indicators of nervousness. It seems as if people
believe that a liar will feel nervous and act accordingly. In other words,
because people tend to believe that liars are more nervous than truth tellers
are, they infer deception from signs of nervousness. What emanates from the
research on subjective cues to deception is a set of stereotypical beliefs (Vrij,
2008; Zuckerman, et al., 1981). The most commonly and strongly expressed
cue to deception is the decrease in eye contact. This is the most favored sub-
jective cue to deception on a worldwide scale, as shown in a large study col-
lecting subjective deception cues from close to 5000 people in fifty-eight
countries (Global Deception Research Team, 2006).

Practitioners
Certain groups of professionals are faced with deciding whether someone
is lying or not on an everyday basis. It sounds plausible that this everyday
experience, coupled with these practitioners’ training and, probably, special
102 Applied Criminal Psychology

interest in these issues, could affect their subjective cues to deception. A

number of studies, mostly surveys, have examined this issue. The practition-
ers have been mostly police officers, but customs officers, prison guards,
prosecutors, and judges, among others, have also been studied. These groups
of professionals work in different countries: The United Kingdom (Akehurst,
Köhnken, Vrij & Bull, 1996), Germany (Greuel, 1992), Sweden (Strömwall &
Granhag, 2003), Spain (Masip & Garrido, 2001), The Netherlands (Vrij &
Semin, 1996) and the United States (Kraut & Poe, 1980).
Although in some studies a few differences among the groups studied were
found, it is fair to say that the practitioners have similar subjective cues to
deception. They think that liars are more gaze aversive, fidget more, make
more self-manipulations and body movements, and have less fluent speech
compared with truthtellers. In the perhaps most valid study, in terms of
human ecology, of police officers’ beliefs, Mann, Vrij, and Bull (2004)
showed fragments of real-life police interviews with suspects to British police
officers. Most of the police officers claimed that searching for a decrease in
eye contact is useful in detecting deception. Those police officers who were
more correct used this cue to a lesser extent. The authors suggested that
police officers rely upon cues that are general rather than idiosyncratic
(Mann et al., 2004).
The practitioners, then, express the same subjective nonverbal cues to
deception as laypersons do. In general, these beliefs are incorrect. Just like
laypersons, the presumed experts consider nervous behaviors to indicate
deception (Strömwall, Granhag & Hartwig, 2004). What indicator experts
and laypeople alike rely on most is a decrease in eye contact when lying. It
seems that participants in deception studies (both practitioners and lay per-
sons), when stating their subjective cues to deception, visualizes a highly mo-
tivated liar. According to Anderson, and coworkers (1999), when people are
asked to describe the cues they think are indicative of deceit, they do little
more than recount the accepted cultural wisdom about such matters, also
known as stereotypical beliefs.
Interestingly, one group of people has been shown to have different and
more correct subjective cues to deception, namely criminals (Granhag,
Andersson, Strömwall & Hartwig, 2004; Vrij & Semin, 1996). This “profes-
sional” group does, for example, not believe in decrease in eye contact as a
reliable indicator of deception. Criminals’ more calibrated beliefs have been
explained by the fact that they live in more deceptive environments that pro-
vide them with clear, frequent, and (often) immediate feedback on the decep-
tion strategies that work and those that do not. That is, in contrast to many
other groups, they learn the right lesson from their experience (Strömwall et
al., 2004).
 The Detection of Deceit 103

Lie-Catchers’ Performance
Overall Findings
There are a few things to keep in mind when taking stock of results on lie-
catchers’ performance. First, one must make sure what the numbers present-
ed actually refer to. In brief, one needs to separate (1) truth or lie discrimi-
nation (which refers to overall accuracy) from (2) deception detection accu-
racy (which refers to accuracy for detecting liars) and (3) truth detection accu-
racy (which refers to accuracy for detecting truthtellers). Obviously, truth or
lie discrimination is the average of deception detection accuracy and truth
detection accuracy. One should acknowledge, however, that a group of
liecatchers can achieve high deception detection accuracy but poor truth
detection accuracy (or vice versa). A second thing to consider is circum-
stances under which the liecatchers are tested (i.e. the ecological validity of
the test).
To map people’s ability to detect lies and truths has been the main
research question for many deception scholars, and there is now a huge body
of reports on this topic. A recent meta-analysis, based on more than 250 sep-
arate studies, showed an average truth or lie discrimination level of 54 per-
cent (Bond & DePaulo, 2006). Interestingly, with very few exceptions, the
accuracy levels fall between 45 percent and 60 percent. Considering that the
level of chance is 50 percent, this is hardly an impressive performance. On
the other hand, taking the scarcity and weakness of valid cues to deception
into account, this result is not surprising.
This “a few percentages above chance level” result is an average over a
variety of lie-catcher samples, sender samples, deception media, contexts,
and so on. A closer look shows that there are a number of factors that mod-
erate the lie-catchers’ accuracy (Granhag & Strömwall, 2008b). In what fol-
lows we will discuss some of the moderators.

Moderating Factors
Preparation
Sometimes people have anticipated that they need to lie, and on other
occasions, lies are told in response to an unanticipated need. This is an area
worthy of much more work, but the available research suggests that liecatch-
ers are better when judging unprepared than prepared messages and that
prepared messages appear more truthful than do messages that are unpre-
pared (Bond & DePaulo, 2006; Vrij, 2008).
104 Applied Criminal Psychology

Deception Medium
Lies and truths can be evaluated over different mediums, resulting in dif-
ferent accuracy rates for lies that have been seen, heard, or read. This line of
research shows that lie or truth discrimination accuracy is lower if judgments
are made with video only rather than with audiovisual or audio only media
or written transcripts. It has also been found that messages are perceived as
most truthful if judged from audiovisual or audio presentations, followed by
written transcripts and video presentations (Bond & DePaulo, 2006). The
medium may affect deception detection accuracy, lies being more evident
when they can be heard. This is probably due to the stereotype of a liar (e.g.
a person who is gaze aversive and fidgeting) being most strongly brought to
mind by the video medium. Obviously, the stereotypical liar may very well
be a nervous and uncomfortable truth teller.

Interaction
In some studies, the senders are alone and talk to a camera; in other stud-
ies, an experimenter asks a standardized list of questions. Sometimes, the
interaction partner is attempting to judge the veracity (such as in a mock
police interview); on other occasions, an observer may be making this judg-
ment. The literature shows that interacting interviewers tend to assess the
sender as truthful much more often than the passive observers do (Granhag
& Strömwall, 2001). In a similar vein, passive live observers have been found
to perceive both adult (Landström, Granhag & Hartwig, 2005) and child wit-
nesses (Landström, Granhag & Hartwig, 2007) more positively compared to
passive video observers. Furthermore, research suggests that observers are
better than interaction partners are at discriminating lies from truths (Bond
& DePaulo, 2006; Vrij, 2008). It seems as if people do not want to believe
that someone just lied to them without their spotting it. Alternatively, the
reluctance to assess interaction partners as liars could be the result of not
wanting to insinuate that the partner is dishonest. In conclusion, research
suggests that lies told in social interactions are better detected by observers
than by interaction partners.

Baseline Familiarity
It makes sense to predict that a lie catcher should perform better if he or
she has some familiarity with the sender. The rationale for this is that the
more knowledge one has about the sender’s (normal) behavior, the better the
chance to detect deviations. In turn, this might lead to increased detection
performance, but only if lying really causes deviations in behavior and if
telling the truth does not. This line of research shows that baseline exposure
 The Detection of Deceit 105

does indeed improve lie or truth discrimination (Bond & DePaulo, 2006).
However, one should be aware that senders who are familiar to the receiver
are more likely to be judged as truthful. People seem to be unwilling to imply
that someone familiar to them is lying.

Motivation
It has been argued that sender’s motivation (to be assessed as honest)
might influence their appearance and, in turn lie catchers’ accuracy. Decep-
tion research has therefore investigated the effects of different levels of send-
er motivation. The so-called motivational impairment effect, states that the
truths and lies of highly motivated senders will be more easily discriminated
than those of unmotivated senders. Indeed, this hypothesis is supported by
experimental studies (for more on this factor, see Vrij, 2008). However, it
should be noted that this result is found for within-study comparisons and
not for between-study comparisons. In brief, the reliable difference found is
that motivated senders appear less truthful than those with little or no moti-
vation to be assessed as honest. The combined evidence suggests that people
who are very motivated to be assessed as honest seem to appear deceptive,
whether or not they are lying (Bond & DePaulo, 2006).

Expertise
Those asked to assess veracity in deception experiments are usually col-
lege students with no special training or reason to succeed. Reasonably, peo-
ple with more experience should be better at spotting lies, and researchers
have therefore tested groups such as police officers, FBI agents, judges, psy-
chiatrists, and customs officials. Vrij (2008) presents an overview of more
than thirty published studies testing different groups of presumed deception-
detection experts. The average accuracy rate over these groups was found to
be 56 percent, which is in line with the performance of laypeople. However,
it would probably be premature to conclude that, for example, police officers
(the most commonly tested group) are poor at detecting deception. This note
of caution is issued because the experimental setting used to test the pre-
sumed experts is not mirroring their real-life environment. This leads to our
next section. (For a recent and interesting debate on lie-catching expertise,
see Bond and Uysal (2007) and O’Sullivan (2007)).

A Critical Note
The paradigmatic task for presumed experts (or laypeople for that matter)
who take part in studies on deception is to assess veracity on the basis of very
106 Applied Criminal Psychology

short video clips in which an interviewer asks a few (or no) questions. The
presumed experts under examination are without any form of background
information and are not allowed to interact with the sender. Obviously, this
is very far from the real-life settings in which these professionals have devel-
oped their (presumed) expertise. What deception research really shows is
that presumed experts perform just above the level of chance when tested in
a particular situation, characterized by low human ecological validity. It is
true that sometimes professionals must assess veracity on the basis of a very
brief interaction and without any form of background information (e.g. cus-
toms personnel in the field). Much more often, however, professional lie
catchers will have information about the suspect at hand and opportunity to
plan and conduct an actual interview with the suspect. As will be discussed
later in this chapter, these circumstances might help the lie catcher to detect
deception and truth, but only if using this background information in a strate-
gic manner.

DETECTING DECEIT FROM VERBAL CONTENT

In a previous section, we have shown that there are not many reliable non-
verbal indicators of deception, thereby making correct classifications of
truths and lies on the basis of nonverbal behavior really difficult. This fact
has led researchers as well as practitioners to turn to other deception-detec-
tion strategies. One such strategy is the analysis of the verbal content, that is,
what people actually say and not how they say it. Discussed here will be two
verbal assessment tools, SVA and RM.

Statement Validity Assessment

The presumably most popular, and definitely the most widely used, tech-
nique for assessing the veracity of verbal statements is SVA. The technique
was developed in Germany to determine the credibility of children’s testi-
monies concerning sexual offences. In such cases, it is usually difficult to
determine the facts, as often there are no other witnesses or medical or phys-
ical evidence. Frequently, the alleged victim and the defendant give contra-
dictory statements; as a result the perceived credibility of the defendant and
alleged victim become important. To date, SVAs are accepted as evidence in
criminal courts in several countries, such as Germany and The Netherlands
(Vrij, 2008). However, the SVA does not stem from established scientific
findings but rather from practice. According to the Undeutsch hypothesis
(Steller, 1989), a child’s statement that is derived from the memory of an
actual experience will differ in content and quality from a statement based
 The Detection of Deceit 107

on invention or fantasy. Undeutsch, and later Steller and Köhnken, devel-

oped content criteria that are supposed to discriminate the different types of
statements from each other (Steller & Köhnken, 1989).
A SVA consists of several stages (Vrij, 2008). First, the child (or the adult)
is interviewed using a semi-structured interview in which the child provides his
or her own account of the allegation. Of utmost importance is that the child
tells the story without any influence or suggestions from the interviewer.
These interviews are audiotaped and then transcribed. Second, a systematic
assessment of the credibility of the written statement given during the inter-
view is undertaken. This assessment, which is called criteria-based content
analysis (CBCA), is based on the list of nineteen content criteria compiled
and discussed by Steller and Köhnken (1989) (Table 5-1). The presence of
CBCA criteria enhances the quality of the statement and strengthens the
hypothesis that the account is based on an authentic personal experience.
The CBCA, then, searches for the truth and not for signs of deceit. Third,
alternative explanations for the CBCA outcomes are considered. For this
purpose, a so-called validity checklist has been developed (Vrij, 2008). In the
validity checklist, the SVA evaluator checks for example for inconsistencies
with other evidence and statements and inappropriate use of language (i.e.
more mature words used than one would expect from a child of a certain
age).
Most research into the SVA has focused on the CBCA criteria. Do they
actually differentiate truthful and deceptive accounts? Vrij (2005, 2008) has
reviewed the available studies (more than fifty), conducted both in field set-
tings and in the laboratory, and analyzed statements from both adults and
children. On a general level, the Undeutsch hypothesis has found support; it
has been found that the CBCA criteria do differentiate the truthful and the
deceptive accounts because the criteria are more often found in truthful state-
ments (Vrij, 2008). When examining the individual criteria, it is found that
criteria 3 (quantity of details), 2 (unstructured production), 4 (contextual em-
beddings), and 6 (reproduction of conversation) are the ones receiving most
support from research. At the level of total CBCA scores, and averaged over
all available studies, just over 70 percent of all statements have been cor-
rectly classified, and lies and truths achieve similar accuracy rates (Vrij,
2008).
108 Applied Criminal Psychology

Table 5-1. CBCA Criteria (from Steller & Köhnken, 1989)

General characteristics
1. Logical structure
2. Unstructured production
3. Quantity of details
Specific contents
4. Contextual embedding
5. Descriptions of interactions
6. Reproduction of conversation
7. Unexpected complications during the incident
Peculiarities of content
8. Unusual details
9. Superfluous details
10. Accurately reported details misunderstood
11. Related external associations
12. Accounts of subjective mental states
13. Attribution of perpetrator's mental state
Motivation-related contents
14. Spontaneous corrections
15. Admitting lack of memory
16. Raising doubts about one's own testimony
17. Self-deprecation
18. Pardoning the perpetrator
Offence-specific elements
19. Details characteristic of the offence

Reality Monitoring
Based on principles from well-established research findings on human
memory, RM has been used as an alternative method to examine verbal dif-
ferences between the truthful and deceptive. The fundamental idea is that
memories of actually experienced events differ in quality from memories of
imagined or fabricated events. Since memories of real experiences are ob-
tained through perceptual processes, they are likely to contain certain types
of information, such as perceptual information — details of smell, taste, and
touch, and visual, and auditory details — and contextual information — spatial
and temporal details. Accounts of imagined events are derived from an inter-
nal source and are therefore likely to contain cognitive operations, such as
thoughts and reasoning (“I remember thinking to myself . . .”) (e.g. Johnson
& Raye, 1981, 1998). Reasonably, experienced events reflect truth telling
(since a truthful witness has seen or heard something and tries to recapitulate
the actual memory), whereas imagined events reflect deception (since a
deceptive witness talks about something invented). Therefore, differences
between truth tellers and liars could be expected regarding RM criteria
(Sporer, 2004; Vrij, 2008).
 The Detection of Deceit 109

Researchers have used somewhat different content criteria based on the RM

way of thinking (Sporer, 2004). Table 5-2 contains the list of RM criteria most
commonly applied in deception detection studies. The available research
(which is not as comprehensive as the CBCA studies) has been reviewed by
Masip, Sporer, Garrido, and Herrero (2004) and by Vrij (2008). At an indi-
vidual criterion level, it is criteria 2 (perceptual information), 3 (spatial informa-
tion) and 4 (temporal information) that best differentiate truthful and deceptive
accounts. Unfortunately, the only lie criterion (cognitive operations) has not re-
ceived much support. The overall result is that RM shows an accuracy rate
of just below 70 percent correct classifications, with slightly better accuracy
found for detecting truths than lies. These accuracy rates are comparable
with the accuracy rates reported for CBCA evaluations.

Table 5-2. Reality Monitoring Criteria (from Sporer, 1997)

Truth criteria
1. Clarity
2. Perceptual information
3. Spatial information
4. Temporal information
5. Affect
6. Reconstructability of the story
7. Realism
Lie criterion
8. Cognitive operations
Note: Some researchers split criterion 2 into five separate criteria reflecting the five senses
(Strömwall, Bengtsson, Leander & Granhag, 2004).

Verbal Content Analysis: Conclusions

The SVA and the RM techniques have certain similarities (e.g. they are
both criteria-based tools that search for indicators of the truth) and certain
differences (e.g. SVA stems from practice, RM from research). Both tech-
niques require training before use and are therefore strictly speaking not
comparable to the previously reviewed nonverbal method that usually
involves untrained observers. One common problem for SVA and RM is
standardization, both in definitions of the criteria (e.g. What is a cognitive
operation?) and in the scoring and evaluation systems (e.g. What is scored as
presence of a criteria? How many criteria need to be present for an evalua-
tor to claim that a specific statement is truthful?). At this time, RM seems to
be preferable, because RM analyses are much easier to conduct than are
CBCA evaluations (Sporer, 1997) and work as well in terms of accuracy
(Vrij, 2008).
110 Applied Criminal Psychology

Psychophysiological Lie Detection

So far we have discussed cues to deception in demeanor and in the verbal
content of a statement. We will now shift focus to the psychophysiological
aspects of deception and the polygraph as lie detector. The psychophysio-
logical approach has a long history, and one of the first polygraphs to be used
in forensic contexts was constructed in 1914 by William Marston in the Unit-
ed States. It measured the galvanic skin response, which, in turn, depends on
sweating, for example from the palm. Marston’s polygraph was used for
interrogating suspected spies during the First World War (Teigen, 2006). The
polygraph of today is more sophisticated, but the basic function is much the
same (Grubin & Madsen, 2005). The modern polygraph measures different
physiological systems, all governed by the autonomic nervous system: typi-
cally, galvanic skin response, cardiovascular activity (such as systolic and
diastolic blood pressure), and breathing patterns.
The polygraph is used in a number of different contexts, such as in crim-
inal investigations, as a condition for probation orders and as a release con-
dition for convicted sexual offenders. Moreover, the polygraph is used in
many parts of the world, such as the United States, Belgium, Israel, Japan,
Korea, Thailand, and Turkey (Honts, 2004). It is important to distinguish
between two main types of polygraph tests: the CQT (Honts, 2004) and the
GKT (Lykken, 1959).

The Control Question Test (CQT)

The CQT, which is the most frequently used polygraph test when it comes
to criminal investigations, starts with an introductory phase, after which the
suspect is asked a number of questions belonging to one of three categories:
(1) irrelevant questions (“Is soccer a sport?”), (2) relevant questions (“Did you
stab Mr. Lee?”), or (3) control questions (“Before the age of twenty, did you
ever steal something?”). The control questions concern transgressions in the
past, designed to force the suspect to give a deceptive response. The core of
CQT is to compare the responses registered when answering the control
questions to the responses registered when answering the relevant questions
(i.e. questions about the crime). The prediction is that guilty suspects will
react more strongly to the relevant questions than to the control questions,
whereas the opposite pattern is expected from innocent suspects (Fiedler,
Schmid & Stahl, 2002).
There are a few overviews of CQT laboratory research, and these show an
accuracy rate that ranges from 74 percent to 82 percent for classifying guilty
suspects and an accuracy rate that ranges from 60 percent to 84 percent for
classifying innocent suspects (Vrij, 2008). The different reviews published of
 The Detection of Deceit 111

CQT field studies confirm this pattern by showing an accuracy rate that
ranges from 83 percent and 89 percent for classifying guilty suspects, and an
accuracy rate that ranges from 53 percent and 75 percent for classifying inno-
cent suspects (Vrij, 2008). The main problem with field studies is, of course,
to know whether the suspect is guilty or innocent (i.e. to establish ground
truth). In sum, the evaluations show that the CQT has some discriminative
value and that the technique is better at pinpointing liars than truth tellers. It
should be noted, however, that CQT has been exposed to severe criticism
(e.g. Ben-Shakhar & Furedy, 1990; Lykken, 1998), and particularly so with
respect to the assumption that innocent suspects will give more aroused
responses to control questions than to relevant questions. It simply may be
incorrect to believe that an innocent suspect would react more strongly to a
control question about a rather mild transgression in the past than to a rele-
vant question about the crime for which he or she is being falsely accused.

The Guilty Knowledge Test

The GKT aims at detecting concealed knowledge by asking a number of
questions, and for each question it presents a number of answer alternatives,
one of which is correct (e.g. “Where was the body of Mr Lee found? Was it
in the hall? In the kitchen? In the bedroom?” etc.). The assumption is that
guilty suspects will try to conceal their knowledge and therefore experience
more physiological arousal when the correct (vs. the incorrect) alternative is
presented. Innocent suspects are, in contrast, expected to react similarly to
all answer alternatives as they lack guilty knowledge (MacLaren, 2001).
The different overviews of GKT laboratory research show an accuracy
rate that ranges from 76 percent to 88 percent for classifying guilty suspects,
and an accuracy rate that ranges from 83 percent to 99 percent for classify-
ing innocent suspects (Vrij, 2008). The published GKT field studies (which
are very few) confirm this pattern by showing an accuracy rate that ranges
from 42 percent to 76 percent for guilty suspects, and an accuracy rate that
ranges from 94 percent to 98 percent for innocent suspects (Vrij, 2008).
Taken together, research shows that the GKT has some discriminative value
and that the technique is better at pinpointing truth tellers than liars. The
GKT does not escape criticism; for example, the validity of the test depends
very much on the fact that innocent suspects do not know the correct answer
to the questions asked and the correct answer does not stand out in any way.

Countermeasures
If suspects are trained in countermeasures before being hooked up to a
polygraph, this can pose a serious threat to the accuracy of the test (Honts,
112 Applied Criminal Psychology

Hodes & Raskin, 1985; Honts, Raskin & Kircher, 1994). Countermeasures
can be of many different kinds, for example, physical (e.g. biting the tongue)
or cognitive (e.g. counting backwards). For a detailed discussion on different
forms of countermeasures, see Honts and Amato (2002).

ALTERNATIVE METHODS FOR DETECTING DECEIT

Brain Scanning
One of the more common methods for scanning the human brain is called
functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI). During recent years, fMRI
has been used for many purposes, and one is to study the brain activity tak-
ing place during deception. This line of research shows that there is an
increased activity in the prefrontal cortex during deception (Spence et al.,
2006). This has been interpreted as lying being more cognitively demanding
than telling the truth. The studies on neural correlates of deception are
intriguing, and the findings reported to date are rather promising. However,
the view presented by the media is not always balanced, and it is important
to acknowledge that the studies reported so far are very few. In addition, not
only is the fMRI equipment extremely expensive, but it also requires that the
target remain still and silent (and answer questions by pressing buttons). In
brief, it is very hard to predict to what extent (if any) fMRI will be a useful
tool for detecting deception in forensic contexts. On the other hand, it is safe
to say that the technique already is very helpful in mapping the cognitive
processes taking place during deception.

The Scientific Content Analysis

The underlying assumption of SCAN is that a statement based on memo-
ry of a personal experience differs in content from a statement based on fab-
rication (see the sections on CBCA and RM). The SCAN rests on an exten-
sive list of criteria such as “change in language” and “denial of allegations”
(Vrij, 2008). To date, there has been very little research on the diagnostic
value of the SCAN, and the different criteria used are much less standard-
ized compared with, for example, the CBCA. Vrij (2008) could only find
three published studies on the SCAN, two field studies and one laboratory
study. Critically, for both field studies the “ground truth” was unknown
(Driscoll, 1994; Smith, 2001, both cited in Vrij, 2008), and the laboratory
study showed that truthful and deceptive statements did not differ with
regard to the criteria tested (Porter & Yuille, 1996). According to its advo-
cates the technique is used worldwide, but one should be aware that there is
not much scientific evidence supporting the SCAN.
 The Detection of Deceit 113

Analysis of Voice Stress

Yet another suggested approach to deception detection is to analyze the
voice as such. Broadly speaking, there are two such methods: voice stress
analysis (VSA) and layered voice-stress analysis (LVA). Eriksson and Lacerda
(2007) provide a summary of both these methods. The idea behind the VSA
is to measure the activity in the muscles responsible for producing speech to
infer the speaker’s mental state. The key concept is so-called micro-tremors,
which are described as weak involuntarily muscle activity, that can only be
registered by fine electrodes. It is an easy task to show that tremors occur in
large muscle groups, such as the biceps, but there is very little scientific evi-
dence for the existence of tremors in the muscles producing speech (Shipp &
Izdebski, 1981). If there is no tremor in the muscles producing speech, there
is no tremor to measure in the voice. In addition, even if it was possible to
find tremor in the voice, it would still remain to be decided to what extent (if
any) such tremor is diagnostic for deception.
The second method, LVA, depends on the use of a computer program for
analyzing errors occurring when a signal is digitized. It is argued that such
errors can only be measured by sophisticated technology and that the LVA
uses these errors to calculate a so-called truth value. However, such errors
can be found for any type of sound, and by the LVA logic, a pair of roller-
blades could be assessed as telling the truth and a distant bark as deceptive.
In brief, there is no empirical research supporting the validity of the SVA or
the LVA, and true experts in forensic phonetics do their best to debunk the
nonsense (Eriksson & Lacerda, 2007).

Strategic Use of Evidence

As previously noted, research on deception has been heavily focused on
the performance of lie catchers who, rather passively, watch short video clips
of suspects. However, there is a new line of research that departs from the
fact that there is often some potentially incriminating evidence against the
suspect, for example, physical evidence or witness reports. The basic idea is
that deception detection performance can be significantly improved if the
investigator (1) is allowed to interrogate the suspect, (2) is given background
information about the case and the suspect, and (3) knows how to strategi-
cally use this background information (Granhag & Strömwall, 2008b). The
SUE technique provides basic principles on how to best use the available
evidence to detect deception. In what follows we will describe some theoret-
ical underpinnings of the SUE technique, provide empirical support for
some core predictions, and offer a few words on how these predictions can
be translated to interview tactics.
114 Applied Criminal Psychology

Theoretical Framework
The theoretical framework supporting the SUE technique rests on psy-
chological notions from three domains: (1) the psychology of instrumental
mind reading, (2) the psychology of self-regulation, and (3) the psychology of
guilt and innocence (Granhag & Hartwig, 2008).

Instrumental Mind Reading

We perform acts of mind reading daily by using different methods to draw
conclusions about other people’s mental states. For the present context we
are not concerned with attempts to read the actual content of a person’s
mind, which indeed is a very speculative form of mind reading. Instead, we
are interested in instrumental mind reading, in which the goal is to make pre-
dictions about a person’s future behavior. In a criminal investigation the
interrogator should try to mind read the strategies and behavior of the sus-
pect. This is, however, not an easy task. First of all, many interrogators are
too occupied thinking about their own tactics and therefore neglect the sus-
pect’s strategies (Hartwig, Granhag & Vrij, 2005). In addition, biases such as
false consensus, stereotyping, and the curse of knowledge might contribute
to mind-reading failures (for a more detailed account of these problems, see
Granhag & Hartwig, 2008b). However, basic psychological theory might
help investigators to mind read their suspects.

The Psychology of Self-Regulation

The term self-regulation refers to the ways in which people try to control
their behavior (Fiske & Taylor, 1991). It is well-known that self-regulatory
strategies are evoked by threatening situations, and particularly when there
is a lack of knowledge about the forthcoming event. Translated into an inves-
tigative context, it is reasonable to construe an upcoming interrogation as a
threat for the suspect. Research on social cognition suggests that a suspect
may use many forms of cognitive control, and it has been argued that one
such form – decision control – is of particular relevance for an interrogative
setting (Granhag & Hartwig, 2008a). Decision control refers to the control
achieved when deciding how to engage in an upcoming aversive event.
At the most basic level both guilty and innocent suspects are assumed to
view the upcoming interrogation as a threat, but there is an important dif-
ference in that guilty suspects will have exclusive knowledge about the
crime, knowledge that innocent suspects lack. The threat for the guilty sus-
pect is that the interrogator may come to know that the guilty suspect holds
exclusive knowledge about the crime, whereas the threat for an innocent sus-
pect is that the interrogator may not come to know that the innocent suspect
 The Detection of Deceit 115

does not hold exclusive knowledge about the crime. Hence, there is reason
to believe that the use of the same self-regulatory strategy (decision control)
will result in different outcomes depending on whether the suspect is guilty
or innocent.

The Psychology of Guilt and Innocence

In short, guilty suspects need to decide what to admit, avoid and deny dur-
ing the interrogation (e.g. a very basic counterinterrogation strategy is to
admit what one believes the interrogator to already know). However, the
more interesting part is to try to predict how the guilty suspect will handle
the pieces of incriminating information that he is not certain the interrogator
holds. Construing these as an aversive stimulus, the guilty suspect is left with
two ways of acting: (1) to go for avoidance when asked to freely tell his story
and (2) to go for denial in response to a direct question. Turning to innocent
suspects, we have reason to believe that their decision control will be colored
by basic psychological concepts such as the belief in a just world (i.e. one gets
what one deserves; Lerner, 1980) and the illusion of transparency (i.e. the
belief that one’s inner feelings and states will manifest themselves on the out-
side; Savitsky & Gilovich, 2003).
Importantly, research on mock suspects’ planning and strategies supports
the previous reasoning. It has been found that a much higher proportion of
guilty (vs. innocent) suspects (1) report having a strategy prepared before
entering the interrogation room (Hartwig, Granhag & Strömwall, 2007); (2)
avoid mentioning incriminating information during a free recall (Hartwig,
Granhag, Strömwall & Vrij, 2005), and (3) deny holding incriminating infor-
mation when asked specific questions addressing this particular information
(e.g. Hartwig, Granhag, Strömwall & Kronkvist, 2006). The combined em-
pirical evidence supports the assumptions that a suspect’s strategy is a reflec-
tion of his mental state; and that a suspect’s behavior is a reflection of his
strategy.

FROM PSYCHOLOGICAL THEORY TO INTERVIEW TACTICS

In a still-ongoing research program we have outlined how these (and

other) empirical findings can be used in order to formulate and implement
the SUE technique for interrogating suspects (Granhag, Strömwall & Hart-
wig, 2007). The full SUE technique consists of a number of different com-
ponents, and so far only some of these have been experimentally tested (e.g.
withholding the evidence, asking for a free narrative, asking specific ques-
tions that concern — but do not reveal — the evidence). One of these tests was
116 Applied Criminal Psychology

conducted at a police academy in Sweden, where a group of highly motivat-

ed police trainees received training in some core components of the SUE
technique and an equally motivated group of trainees received no such train-
ing. The trained group received an overall accuracy rate of 85 percent,
whereas the corresponding figure for the untrained group was 56 percent
(Hartwig et al., 2006). A closer analysis showed that the trained interrogators
— by interviewing in accordance with the SUE technique — managed to cre-
ate and use a diagnostic cue to deception, namely statement evidence incon-
sistency.

Applications and Limitations

The application of the SUE technique is probably wide because the use of
the technique only requires that the suspect is uncertain about what the inter-
rogator knows (a situation very common in criminal investigations). The
SUE technique is totally different from the confrontational techniques typi-
cally found in interrogation manuals (e.g. Inbau, Reid, Buckley & Jayne,
2001). However, the SUE technique stretches beyond pure and passive infor-
mation gathering by drawing on the differences in information that innocent
suspects volunteer and guilty suspects conceal and deny. It needs to be
underscored that the SUE-technique is very much a project under progress.
Future research will illuminate how the effectiveness of the technique is mod-
erated by factors such as the order in which different pieces of evidence are
disclosed and the different counterinterrogation methods used by (guilty)
suspects.

CONCLUSION

We started out by briefly outlining five theoretical approaches to people’s

nonverbal behavior: the emotional approach, the attempted control ap-
proach, the content complexity approach, the new cognitive load approach,
and the self-presentational perspective. It is very difficult to decide the exact
amount of explanatory power that should be assigned to each approach (and
we refrained from evaluating the approaches), but it is rather safe to say that
no single approach can be used to predict liars’ and truth tellers’ nonverbal
behavior over a variety of different situations and contexts. The overall find-
ing from research on objective nonverbal cues is that there are few cues that
correlate with deception, and those that do correlate (e.g. liars have a high-
er-pitched voice and use fewer illustrators) are only weakly related. In short,
there is very meager scientific evidence backing up those criminal investiga-
tors (and other legal professionals) who feel smug about their ability to read
a suspect’s body language in order to detect deception. Furthermore, one
 The Detection of Deceit 117

needs to acknowledge that nonverbal behaviors might be differently corre-

lated with truth status under certain conditions. For example, if the liar has
had time to prepare the lie or not will show different correlations with some
nonverbal behaviors. Research on subjective cues to deception show that it
is common to believe that signs of nervousness are indicative of deception,
this general misconception seems to hold for laypeople as well as profes-
sionals.
Considering that the nonverbal cues to deception are very few and weak
— and that people seem to hold incorrect beliefs about these cues — it is of no
surprise that people’s ability to discriminate truth from lies is mediocre. A
closer look reveals that there are some factors moderating lie-catcher’s suc-
cess; for example, lies that are prepared shown on video only (vs. in audio-
visual or written format), and told by an unfamiliar person are more difficult
to detect. We also concluded that presumed lie-catching experts do not per-
form better than laypersons, but we also acknowledged that these presumed
experts have been tested in situations that are very different from their day-
to-day work situations.
Considerable research effort has gone into finding correlates of truths and
lies with the verbal content of a given statement. In this chapter, we re-
viewed two techniques, SVA and RM. Overall accuracy was around 70 per-
cent if following either technique. Arguably, RM seems to be preferable over
SVA, because RM analyses are easier to teach, learn, and conduct than are
SVA evaluations, in addition to having a theory-based rationale.
We then turned to psychophysiological lie detection and described the
CQT and the GKT. We summarized both laboratory and field research
showing that the CQT seems to be better at catching liars than clearing inno-
cent suspects, whereas the GKT seem to better at clearing innocent suspects
than catching liars. Although we conclude that both tests seem to have some
discriminative value, we also note that both tests have been severely criti-
cized and that the polygraph as lie detector must be used with caution. We
then discussed alternative methods for detecting deception and concluded
that brain scanning (fMRI) is a somewhat promising method but that the
wait is long before the method can be used in criminal investigations. With
reference to research (or the lack thereof) we took a much more critical stand
with respect to the other alternative methods: the SCAN, VSA, and LVA.
Finally, we introduced the SUE technique, which is the result of a new line
of research within deception detection. We outlined the theoretical basis for
the SUE technique and provided evidence that the technique can help inter-
viewers to discriminate between guilty and innocent suspects.
In conclusion, this chapter shows that detecting deceit in legal contexts is
a difficult task and that legal professionals are well-advised to take a humble
stand with respect to their own lie-catching ability. There is no single lie-
detection technique that can be trusted to always generate the correct answer.
118 Applied Criminal Psychology

Different contexts demand different lie-detection methods, and none of the

methods available are without problems. Nevertheless, it is possible to end
on a positive note; professional lie catchers will, in the long run, make more
correct judgments and reduce their number of mistakes if learning the
lessons taught by science.

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 Chapter Six

EYEWITNESS MEMORY
CARA LANEY AND E LIZABETH F. LOFTUS

E yewitnesses play an important role in the legal system. They are the peo-
ple, besides the necessarily biased perpetrators, who can claim that “I
was there, and I saw what really happened.” Because of this, they have sub-
stantial influence in investigations and trials that follow them. Unfortunately,
eyewitnesses are far from perfect recorders of the events they witness. In par-
ticular, they make the same sorts of errors in perceiving and remembering
that all humans do. The problem is that eyewitness errors, unlike other types
of everyday human memory errors, can and do lead to the investigation,
prosecution, and even conviction of innocent persons (see Scheck, Neufeld &
Dwyer, 2003; Wells, Memon & Penrod, 2006).
In 1990, George Franklin was convicted of the murder of Susan Nason, a
childhood friend of his daughter Eileen. The girl had been killed in 1969,
and the only evidence against George was the eyewitness report of Eileen.
The troubling aspect of this was that Eileen had reportedly repressed her
memory of this event, only recovering her memory of witnessing the murder
twenty years after the fact. This type of noncontinuous memory is suspicious
because it could represent false memory. In this case, there was a pattern of
errors and changes in her story that suggested that Eileen’s memory of wit-
nessing her father commit murder was probably false. Ultimately, George
Franklin’s conviction was overturned in 1995 (Loftus & Ketcham, 1996).
In 1989, Dwane Allen Dail was convicted of burglary and the rape of a
twelve-year-old girl in North Carolina. The evidence against him was an
identification made by the girl and the limited forensic analysis of a few hairs
left at the scene of the crime. He was sentenced to two life terms plus fifteen
years in prison. He served eighteen years of his sentence before a DNA test

121
122 Applied Criminal Psychology

— which had not been used as part of the original investigation — proved him
innocent of the crimes (The Innocence Project, n.d.).
These two cases highlight some of the ways that eyewitness memory can
go wrong. Eyewitnesses can incorrectly identify perpetrators. They can false-
ly remember not only the details of the events but also sometimes, the en-
tirety of those events. A variety of additional errors are addressed later.
In this chapter we briefly discuss how human memory works. We then
describe some of the most common and important memory errors, and the
implications of these errors for the role of eyewitnesses. Eyewitness memory
errors and their implications for jury decision-making and thus justice sys-
tems have been studied for more than thirty years, primarily by cognitive
and social psychologists (e.g. Buckhout, 1977; Cutler, Penrod & Martens,
1987; Davis & Loftus, 2007; Loftus, 1975, 1979; Wells & Olson, 2003; Yuille
& Cutshall, 1986). We discuss several key areas of this research, including the
misinformation effect, false memories, and eyewitness identification errors.
We also briefly touch on the smaller area of earwitness memory research.

REMEMBERING PEOPLE AND EVENTS

Human memory is amazing in that it enables us to retain and then recall

information about events and people from moments, days, years, and
decades ago. A tremendous amount of information is stored, and this stor-
age, along with quick and precise access to it, is what allows us to function.
Memory is not merely a storehouse of facts and events or a video recording
of one’s life experiences, however. Rather, it is a collection of several com-
plex processes, that broadly include encoding, storage, and retrieval of infor-
mation (Atkinson & Shiffrin, 1968).
The first step to memory encoding (that is, getting information into mem-
ory) is to pay attention (Schacter, 2001). Attention determines what informa-
tion makes it from the wide, nonselective net of sensory memory into the
smaller, more selective net of working memory. Sensory memory can hold a
huge amount of information about the present state of one’s world, but only
for a fraction of a second at a time before being replaced by new information
coming in from the senses. The information that is not attended to is imme-
diately lost. The information that is attended to becomes part of working
memory. Working memory is an active process rather than a storage facility,
able to process about seven pieces of information at any one time (see
Reisberg, 2001). Most of the information held in working memory does not
make it into long-term memory. Instead, it is forgotten when it is no longer
needed. Of course, a subset of the information from working memory does
make it into long-term memory. Long-term memory is the largest storage
 Eyewitness Memory 123

facility for memories and is what most people think about when they refer to
memory.
Memories can be formed through intentional learning or working specifi-
cally at remembering a particular bit of information (e.g. multiplication
tables or important dates in world history), but they can also be formed
through incidental learning, that is, with no specific intention to learn. Inci-
dental learning can happen when one is repeatedly exposed to information,
or when one interacts meaningfully with information (Reisberg, 2001). That
is, people know their parents’ names without ever having tried to memorize
them and remember important people and events from their lives even if
they happened only once. As a rule, deeper processing of information leads
to more successful encoding, and better memory (Craik & Lockhart, 1972).
Once memories have been encoded, they are stored until they are need-
ed. Memory storage does not work like library book storage or off-season
clothing storage, however. That is, one cannot go back to the specific loca-
tion (in the brain) where one left something (i.e. a memory) and pick it back
up again. There are certain structures in the brain that are especially impor-
tant for the encoding and storage of memory, in particular, the hippocampus
and the amygdala (e.g. McGaugh et al., 1990; Scoville & Milner, 1957).
Memories are not stored entirely within either of these bodies, however. In-
stead, memories are stored as patterns of activation in the brain (Rumelhart
& McClelland, 1986).
The companion process to encoding is called retrieval, and it is through
this process that information is brought back from long-term storage to be
attended to and used. Just as information can be encoded in different ways,
either intentionally or incidentally, it can be retrieved in different ways.
Recall is the process of retrieval that occurs in response to an open question
(e.g. “What happened after the robber said ‘hands up?’”) whereas recogni-
tion happens in response to closed questions, including multiple-choice ques-
tions (e.g. “Was the robber tall or short?” or “Is this man the robber?”).
Retrieval cues are reminders that link us back to specific memories. These
can come from the content of questions or from images, words, feelings, nois-
es, or smells in the environment. One memory can also form a powerful
retrieval cue for another memory. Some memories are easier to retrieve
when one can match the circumstances in which the memory was encoded,
a phenomenon termed state-dependent memory (Eich, 1980). This explains
why going back to one’s childhood hometown or school as an adult can
bring up memories that one has not thought of for many years. Likewise,
going back to the scene of the crime can allow witnesses to remember details
that they had not recalled before (Swihart, Yuille & Porter, 1999).
Information can be lost (forgotten) at any stage of the encoding, storage,
and retrieval process, and perhaps, contrary to intuition, this is a good thing.
124 Applied Criminal Psychology

As William James (1890) pointed out, “If we remembered everything, we

should on most occasions be as ill off as if we remembered nothing” (p. 68).
If the truth of this statement is not immediately apparent, consider for a
moment what would happen if every memory of parking your car was as
clear as every other memory of parking your car. That is to say, forgetting is
as important a process as remembering.
As previously noted, lack of sufficient attention at encoding results in for-
getting (consider how difficult it can be to find your keys or glasses if you did
not pay sufficient attention when you set them down). Other memories are
forgotten because they are not accessed sufficiently quickly or frequently
after being put into long-term storage, a process called decay. Longer delays
between an event and its recall, termed retention interval, make forgetting
more likely (see Read and Connolly, 2007, for review). Finally, errors in recall
and recognition are called retrieval failure. One important type of retrieval
failure, termed interference, occurs when other, newer or older, memories
preclude access to the desired memory.

MEMORY ERRORS IN EYEWITNESSES

As we have seen, human memory has an amazing ability to store and

retrieve information. Human memory, including eyewitness memory, can
also go very wrong. In this section, we describe some common and forensi-
cally relevant types of errors and the research that demonstrates them.
Broadly, errors can occur during both the encoding and retrieval processes
described before.
Eyewitness memory encoding often occurs at the complex (both physical-
ly and emotionally) scene of a crime. This scene complexity can lead to some
types of information being insufficiently encoded. For example, some wit-
nessed events happen very quickly, and leave very little time to properly
encode people or actions. Other events go on for very long periods, leading
to severe stress in witnesses, which makes full encoding of events difficult
(see section on emotion and stress, later).
In addition, a wide range of features of events has been shown to affect
eyewitnesses’ initial encoding and later retrieval of those events. For exam-
ple, the presence of a weapon or other surprising and meaningful objects at
the scene of a crime can lead witnesses to focus on that object to such a
degree that they fail to encode other aspects of the scene, including the face
of the perpetrator (Loftus, Loftus & Messo, 1987; Steblay, 1992; but see
Valentine, Pickering & Darling, 2003). Alcohol and drug use by witnesses
can also dramatically affect their ability to encode and later recall details
from events that they witness (Clifasefi, Takarangi & Bergman, 2006; Yuille
& Tollestrup, 1990).
 Eyewitness Memory 125

One particularly well-researched memory error is that caused by “misin-

formation” (see Davis & Loftus, 2007). In these studies, research subjects are
asked to witness an event, typically a mock crime, usually presented via
slides or video. They are then presented with incorrect information (termed
misinformation) about this event, often in the form of misleading questions
or erroneous information embedded in reports expressed by other witness-
es. This misinformation often affects the subjects’ memories for the original
event, in what is termed the misinformation effect. That is, memory for the
details of the event can be altered by misleading information that people are
exposed to after the fact. Since memory is a process of reconstruction, the
new, misleading information can be incorporated into subjects’ memories for
the prior event.
One important purpose of these studies is to show that the memories of
eyewitnesses can be influenced by events that happen long after a crime
takes place. When an eyewitness is interviewed by the police, and later by
attorneys and even the media, his or her memory may incorporate informa-
tion from leading questions and suggestions made by other individuals. This
alteration of memory may occur without the knowledge of the eyewitness,
such that he or she may swear to the truth of his or her memory on the wit-
ness stand and yet be inaccurate.
In an early study of the misinformation effect, Loftus and Palmer (1974)
showed subjects a film depicting a car accident. Some subjects were asked
how fast the two cars were going when they “smashed” into each other.
Other subjects were asked how fast the cars were going when they “hit” each
other. Control subjects were not asked about vehicle speed. Subjects queried
about the cars smashing into each other reported higher rates of speed than
those queried about the cars hitting each other. After a week’s delay, all sub-
jects were asked additional questions about the accident, including, critical-
ly, whether they had seen any broken glass. Those subjects who had been
asked about the cars smashing into each other were more likely to remem-
ber seeing broken glass than were subjects asked about the cars hitting each
other or the controls. These results demonstrate that even small changes in
the wording of questions can affect memory — a serious worry considering
how often real eyewitnesses are typically questioned about the events that
they witnessed.
In a further demonstration of the power of even small amounts of misin-
formation, Loftus (1975) showed that replacing the word “a” in a question, as
in “Did you see a broken headlight?” with the word “the” (“Did you see the
broken headlight?”) could make subjects far more likely to answer in the
affirmative. Note that although these questions sound very similar, the sec-
ond question is essentially informing the witness that there was a broken
headlight and asking whether he or she managed to notice it. The first ques-
126 Applied Criminal Psychology

tion does not carry any presumption about the existence of the headlight.
Loftus (1975) also got subjects to report seeing a barn in a scene that con-
tained no such building by asking simple leading questions about a barn after
subjects saw films containing the scene. Loftus, Miller, and Burns (1978)
extended these findings by showing subjects a series of slides depicting a car
moving down the street, then sitting at a yield sign (or, for other subjects, a
stop sign), then hitting a pedestrian. Subjects were then asked a series of
questions, including a critical question about an event that happened after
the car stopped “at the stop sign” (or yield sign, depending on condition).
After a short delay, the subjects were given a recognition test in which they
were asked, in series, which of two slides had been part of the original set.
One of these pairs was made up of the stop sign and yield sign slides. Again,
subjects’ memories were contaminated by the misinformation, with those
subjects who were asked about the stop sign after seeing the yield sign pick-
ing the correct (yield sign) slide at significantly lower than chance levels.
Some authors have criticized studies of eyewitness memory that use staged
slides or videos, advocating instead the use of real-life crime witnesses (Yuille
& Cutshall, 1986). Yet, studies of witnesses who experience genuinely dis-
tressing events demonstrate that the witnesses’ memories are likewise sus-
ceptible to errors (e.g. Morgan et al., 2007). In addition, the growing evi-
dence provided by DNA exonerations shows that real crime witnesses make
exactly the sorts of errors that are demonstrated in studies using mock wit-
nesses (see Steblay & Loftus, in press).
In the last decade, eyewitness memory research has broadened signifi-
cantly from its event plus leading question equals distortion roots, but some
important themes have continued. The memory implications of the presence
of cowitnesses to events have long been a fruitful area of research (e.g.
Loftus, 1979; Loftus & Greene, 1980). Recent research in this area has
demonstrated that real-life cowitnesses do discuss what they have witnessed
(Paterson & Kemp, 2006) and reinforced the conclusion that discussions
among cowitnesses can be detrimental to the truth by leading subjects to
remember far more than they encoded to begin with (Gabbert, Memon &
Allan 2003; Gabbert, Memon, Allan, & Wright, 2004; Hope, Ost, Gabbert,
Healey & Lenton, 2008; Takarangi, Parker & Garry, 2006; Wright, Mathews
& Skagerberg, 2005).
In one study (Gabbert et al., 2003), two sets of subjects watched two dif-
ferent versions of a short video, but were led to believe they were watching
the same video. Both videos covered the same events, but those events were
viewed from different angles (just as the real event might have been observed
by witnesses with slightly different perspectives). After the videos, some sub-
jects thought about the videos alone; others discussed them with “cowitness-
es.” Then all subjects completed an individual memory task. A majority
 Eyewitness Memory 127

(71%) of the subjects who discussed their memories with cowitnesses incor-
porated elements of the discussion into their own memories, and 60 percent
of relevant subjects reported the commission of a crime that they had not
actually seen (because it had been visible only in the other version of the
video).
One recent technique has been provided with particularly impressive de-
monstrations of cowitness effects. Called the “manipulation of overlapping
rivalrous images by polarizing filters” (MORI) paradigm (Garry, French,
Kinzett & Mori, in press), it allows for two research subjects to sit in front of
a single screen to watch a video. The two subjects assume (quite reasonably)
that they are seeing the same images, but because each subject is wearing a
different type of polarized glasses, they are in fact watching different images
(projected onto the same screen, much like for three-dimensional movies).
Because the two subjects believe they have seen exactly the same event (just
as in real-world eyewitnessing), they are particularly likely to allow their
cowitness’ memories of the video to affect their own.
In another variation on the misinformation paradigm, a recent series of
studies has demonstrated just how influential postevent information may be
in the real world (see Loftus & Castelle, 2000). In the first “crashing” memo-
ry study, Cronbag, Wagenaar, and van Koppen (1996) interviewed Dutch
subjects about a horrible plane crash that had killed forty-three people and
been major national news. One misleading question, “Did you see the tele-
vision film of the moment the plane hit the apartment building?” led more
than 60 percent of subjects to report that they had seen nonexistent televi-
sion footage and answer additional questions about it. Other “crashing”
memory studies have since been conducted, with subjects falsely remember-
ing videos of other plane crashes, the car crash that killed Princess Diana, an
assassination, and a sinking cruise ship (Granhag, Strömwall & Billings,
2002; Jelicic et al., 2006; Ost, Vrij, Costall & Bull, 2002; Smeets et al., 2006).
These studies demonstrate that a single leading question can not only alter
an existing memory, but also can create an entire secondary false memory.
The subjects in the studies presumably heard news about the relevant major
events, then imagined those events. With the addition of a suggestion that
there had been a video, subjects came to believe that they saw the event in
question happening, rather than merely imagined it. Having actually seen an
event happen is subjectively (and legally) more meaningful than having
merely imagined that event happening, and so subjects are likely giving their
own memories for the details of the event far more credibility than they
deserve.
128 Applied Criminal Psychology

FALSE MEMORIES FOR EVENTS

In what must be the most extreme sort of memory distortion, researchers

have been able to implant wholly false memories into the minds of research
subjects. The field of false-memory research evolved as an extension of the
misinformation literature, largely in response to a rash of accusations and
lawsuits in the late 1980s and early 1990s. These lawsuits were typically
(though certainly not exclusively) brought by daughters accusing their
fathers of horrible sexual abuse, spanning years, that the victims did not
remember happening until they went into therapy in adulthood for problems
such as depression and eating disorders. Their therapists then helped them
to “recover” their memories of being brutalized as a path to curing their cur-
rent ills (see Ofshe & Watters, 1994). More recently, many of the same tech-
niques have been used to help adult Catholics to remember being abused by
their priests in childhood. In both cases, severe criminal penalties have been
levied and substantial awards have been made by juries, in the absence of
forensic evidence corroborating the victims' statements.
These therapists (see, e.g. Claridge, 1992; Herman & Schatzow, 1987) start-
ed with the assertion, derived from the work of Freud, that when people
experience repeated horrific events, they repress these experiences into the
unconscious. Sometimes they even split their psyches into two separate parts,
one that experiences the trauma and the other that continues to function nor-
mally with no awareness of the trauma. Decades later, when the person has
adult skills and support structures that will allow the reintegration of these
half-psyches (and this is necessary because the trauma has begun to leak out
in some other way), therapists can help them to recover or reconstruct mem-
ories of the original trauma. When the memories are recovered, the person
can finally “recover” from the abuse that has haunted his or her life, or at
least that was the promise of this type of therapy.
This treatment typically involved a variety of techniques, including guid-
ed imagination, dream interpretation, repeated questioning, journaling, the
use of family pictures to cue memories, and social pressure in the form of
group therapy sessions. Some of the memories that were produced using
these techniques were particularly bizarre (including satanic ritual abuse;
Ofshe & Watters, 1994). Experimental psychologists have, since the mid-
1990s, modeled these techniques in the laboratory and demonstrated that
they can cause people to remember events that did not happen.
In an early study that implanted wholly false memories, Loftus and
Pickrell (1995) used a repeated interview and journaling technique to get sub-
jects to believe that as young children they had been lost in a shopping mall
for an extended period of time and then rescued by an older adult. Subjects
were presented with a summary of this (bogus) event, along with three other
 Eyewitness Memory 129

true events, and told that all four events had come from their parents or other
relatives (authority figures who would have been in a position to know such
things). Subjects were asked to write down what they remembered (if any-
thing) about each of the four events. During two subsequent interviews, sub-
jects were again asked to remember as many details as possible about each
of the four events (including the critical shopping mall event, which relatives
had specifically dismissed as false). Subjects remembered some 68 percent of
the true memories learned about from their families, but six of the twenty-
four subjects (25%) also remembered the critical false event. Some of these
subjects went on to produce elaborate details of their (false) ordeal of being
lost in the mall.
Subsequent studies replicated and extended these findings using similar
methodologies. The false events produced in these studies ranged from being
rescued by a lifeguard (Heaps & Nash, 1999) to spilling punch on the bride’s
parents at a family wedding (Hyman, Husband & Billings, 1995). Some
authors have explicitly sought to produce false memories for traumatic
events, such as being a victim of a vicious animal attack (e.g. Porter, Yuille &
Lehman, 1999). In light of criticisms that these studies might be triggering
genuine memories rather than actually producing false memories, some
researchers have worked to give subjects false memories for highly implau-
sible and even impossible events, such as witnessing demonic possession, or
shaking hands with Bugs Bunny at Disneyland (e.g. Braun, Ellis & Loftus,
2002; Mazzoni & Memon, 2003; Wade, Garry, Read & Lindsay, 2002).
Wade and Garry (2005) compiled data from ten peer-reviewed “lost in the
mall” type studies and found a weighted mean of 37 percent of subjects
reporting false memories.
The “lost in the mall” study and its descendents specifically emulated cer-
tain aspects of the therapeutic context, including repeated visits and proof of
the existence of a childhood event originating with an authority figure (the
parents in the studies, like the therapist in the real-life scenario). In point of
fact, these techniques turn out to be particularly powerful types of suggestion,
and their use has been disputed by some consumers of the research (e.g.
Harvey, 1999; Ost, Foster, Costall & Bull, 2005). Specifically, some therapists
have pointed out that they do not tell their clients that they have spoken with
their parents and heard about specific instances of abuse from them. This is
certainly true, but in addition to the similarities already mentioned between
the two situations, other, very similar, suggestive techniques are used by ther-
apists (Gore-Felton et al., 2000; Poole, Lindsay, Memon & Bull, 1995).
A number of these other therapy techniques have been specifically mod-
eled in experimental studies that produced false memories. For example,
therapists may instruct clients to imagine specific events happening to them
as children, they may interpret clients’ dreams, and they may even hypno-
130 Applied Criminal Psychology

tize clients. Garry, Manning, Loftus, and Sherman (1996) asked subjects to
imagine four different events happening to them, and they subsequently
became more confident that those events had indeed happened (see also
Thomas & Loftus, 2002, for related data with documented original events).
Mazzoni, Lombardo, Malvagia, and Loftus (1999) used a dream interpreta-
tion paradigm to convince subjects that they had been lost as young children.
Scoboria, Mazzoni, Kirsch, and Milling (2002) used hypnosis and misleading
questions to distort subjects’ memories for a story. Both techniques produced
memory errors, and their combination produced the most errors (see also
Lynn, Lock, Myers & Payne, 1997; Mazzoni & Lynn, 2007). Group therapy
techniques have been modeled in the cowitness studies described earlier.
Using family photographs as memory cues has been modeled in two ways.
First, Wade and associates (2002) created pseudo-family photographs by
combining true childhood photographs with a false hot air balloon setting.
When these doctored photographs were shown to subjects along with some
true photos, about half of subjects falsely remembered going on a hot air bal-
loon ride. Lindsay, Hagen, Read, Wade, and Garry (2004) combined a false
suggestion of childhood mayhem with an accurate age-appropriate class pho-
tograph to produce false memories in more than half of their subjects (see
Strange, Gerrie & Garry, 2005, for additional false memory studies employ-
ing photographic evidence).
Recent research has shown that it is not necessary to go to such lengths to
convince people that they experienced very specific events in the past.
Recent studies have used a simple false feedback procedure to suggest to sub-
jects that very specific events happened to them in their childhoods
(Berkowitz, Laney, Morris, Garry & Loftus, in press; Bernstein, Laney,
Morris & Loftus, 2005a, 2005b; Laney & Loftus, in press; Laney, Morris,
Bernstein, Wakefield & Loftus, in press). In the false-feedback procedure,
subjects are asked to fill out a set of questionnaires on a particular topic. They
are then told (falsely) that their data will be entered into a special computer
program that will provide specific feedback for them. After a delay, subjects
are given their “feedback” (which is in fact not specific at all but is the false
memory manipulation) and then asked to fill out more questionnaires.
Subjects frequently become more confident that they have experienced a
particular event that has been suggested by the false feedback. They may also
produce very specific detailed memory descriptions that conform to the feed-
back suggestions.
This simple technique has been used to get subjects to believe that they
had once become sick after eating a specific food, loved a specific food the
first time they tried it, or had a specific interaction with a character at
Disneyland (Berkowitz et al., in press; Bernstein et al., 2005a, 2005b; Laney
et al., in press). Each of these false memories also had consequences for par-
 Eyewitness Memory 131

ticipants, such that they were more or less likely to eat the suggested food, or
were not willing to pay as much for a Disney souvenir. The false feedback
technique has also been used to plant in subjects’ minds false memories for
potentially traumatic childhood events, including witnessing a physically vio-
lent fight between their parents (Laney & Loftus, in press).
There is ample evidence that memory distortion and false memory pro-
duction also happen outside the laboratory and the therapist's office (Sheen,
Kemp & Rubin, 2001; Taylor, 1965). Even normal conversation can produce
false memories. Research suggests that people make pragmatic inferences
about the meaning of the words and phrases used by conversation partners
(Brewer, 1977). Rather than remembering the specific words used by the
speaker (and his or her specific intended meanings), people instead remem-
ber these inferences and their implications (e.g. Chan & McDermott, 2006).

EMOTION AND STRESS IN EYEWITNESSES

Emotion is another important factor in memory quality. The effects of

emotion (which is here broadly defined to include arousal, stress, and even
trauma) have been studied from a variety of perspectives. Various authors
have demonstrated that emotional events are remembered better than are
nonemotional (but otherwise equivalent) events (e.g. Cahill & McGaugh,
1995; Conway et al., 1994; Heuer & Reisberg, 1990; Laney, Campbell,
Heuer & Reisberg, 2004; McNally, Clancy & Barrett, 2004; Reisberg, Heuer,
McLean, & O’Shaughnessy, 1988). Other authors have argued that emo-
tional content can be harmful to memory (e.g. Loftus & Burns, 1982; Morgan
et al., 2004). Finally, a few authors have suggested that the relationships
between emotion and memory are in fact much more complicated than these
simple “better” or “worse” results imply and instead depend on factors like
the type of emotion and type of to-be-remembered event (Burke, Heuer &
Reisberg, 1992; Christianson & Loftus, 1990; Levine & Pizarro, 2004;
Reisberg, 2006; Reisberg & Heuer, 2007).
The differing results are likely attributable to the researchers’ different
conceptualizations of emotion. Many studies conceptualize emotion along a
single dimension ranging from neutral to arousing. For example, Heuer and
Reisberg (1990) showed subjects a series of slides depicting a mother taking
her son to visit his father at work. In the neutral version of the story, the
father works as a garage mechanic, and he is shown fixing a car. In the arous-
ing version of the story, the father works as a surgeon and a critical slide
shows the severed and reattached legs of a child. Alhough the two sets of
slides were matched as closely as possible, the arousing version was much
better remembered than the neutral version was.
132 Applied Criminal Psychology

Other studies conceptualize emotion along a different dimension: stress.

Studies of stress and emotion often come to very different conclusions than
do studies of arousal and memory (see Reisberg & Heuer, 2007). Morgan and
colleagues (2004) found that after food and sleep deprivation, soldiers who
experienced forty minutes of extremely stressful interrogation were less able
to identify their interrogators (who had been demanding direct eye contact)
than other soldiers who experienced less stressful interrogation were (see also
Lieberman et al., 2005; Southwick, Morgan, Nicolaou & Charney, 1997).
That is, these highly stressed subjects had poor memories for the details of
the interrogation that they had experienced. Deffenbacher, Bornstein, Pen-
rod, and McGorty (2004) conducted a meta-analysis of studies of stress and
memory and found that stress was a reliable impediment to accurate memo-
ry.
Even relatively mild acute stressors, like being asked to give a short
speech, can have a negative effect on memory, as can drugs that work to
mimic these stressors (Payne, Nadel, Britton & Jacobs, 2004). Reisberg and
Heuer (2007) argue that this distinction between events that are arousing and
those that are stressful is key. Essentially, arousing events seem to produce an
orienting response that leads to more attention and better memory, whereas
stressful events produce a defensive response that leads to diverted attention
and worse memory. So stress is not merely a more severe form of arousal,
and quantity of emotion does not by itself predict memory quality. Type of
emotion (here, arousal versus stress) matters as well.
A few researchers have utilized more complex conceptualizations of emo-
tion in their studies of memory (Laney et al., 2004; Levine & Bluck, 2004;
Levine & Burgess, 1997). For example, Levine and Bluck (2004) borrowed
from cognitive appraisal theories of emotion in their analysis of memory for
the O. J. Simpson verdict. Cognitive appraisal theories propose specific func-
tions for different specific emotions, and these functions have specific impli-
cations for memory. Levine and Bluck (2004) found that individuals who
were happy about the verdict in the O. J. Simpson murder trial reported
clearer memories for the verdict announcement and recalled more trial
details but were less discriminating than were neutral and unhappy individ-
uals in determining whether specific events had occurred. That is, happy
individuals had clearer but not more accurate memories than unhappy indi-
viduals had.
Traumatic experiences fall at the extreme end of the emotional spectrum.
The “traumatic memory argument” suggests that these memories will all be
of poor quality. In particular, supporters of this argument claim that memo-
ries for trauma are fractured, not easily verbalized, and sometimes com-
pletely repressed (e.g. Herman, 1992; van der Kolk, 1997). Extensive
research has demonstrated, however, that a competing theory, the “trauma
 Eyewitness Memory 133

superiority argument” is a much better fit to the data (Kihlstrom, 2006;

McNally, 2003; Porter & Birt, 2001; Shobe & Kihlstrom, 1997). Indeed, most
traumatic experiences are particularly difficult for people to forget and can
even lead to intrusive memories of the event and flashbacks, as in posttrau-
matic stress disorder (PTSD) (McNally, 2003; McNally et al., 2004). Numer-
ous studies have shown that people who experience trauma tend to have par-
ticularly vivid and complete memories of those events (e.g. Peace & Porter,
2004; Peterson & Whalen, 2001; Quas et al., 1999; Shobe & Kihlstrom, 1997;
Wagenaar & Groeneweg, 1990). According to a study conducted by
Alexander and associates (2005), victims of child sexual abuse who were par-
ticularly traumatized (as evidenced by greater PTSD symptomatology or
their naming of their abuse as their most traumatic event) had better memo-
ry for the details of that abuse than did other victims who were less trauma-
tized. This is not to say that traumatic memories are errorfree. Indeed, trau-
matic memories are susceptible to the same errors as other sorts of memo-
ries, and may be particularly fragile at the periphery (see McNally, 2003; Paz-
Alonso & Goodman, 2008). These errors simply reinforce the notion that
traumatic memories do not make up a special class of memory with separate
rules (such as fragmentation or repression). Instead, they are an extreme
form of normal autobiographical memory.
To summarize, the relationship between emotion and memory is compli-
cated and depends on numerous contextual and extrasituational factors. It
also depends on how “emotion” is defined. The important message, howev-
er, is that most kinds of emotion, and particularly trauma, lead to particular-
ly good (though not flawless) memory for the emotional events themselves,
rather than to repression of memory.

MISTAKEN INDENTIFICATION

At some point after witnessing a particular crime, an eyewitness is often

called on to identify the perpetrator in a lineup. This may happen because
the witness’ description of the perpetrator has led to the identification of a
suspect (see Meissner, Sporer & Schooler, 2007), because the witness has
identified a suspect from a set of mugshots (Lindsay, Noswothy, Martin &
Martynuck, 1994), or because the police have identified a particular suspect
through forensic evidence or other means.
The research literature on eyewitness identifications is vast. Particular foci
have been on two types of variables: those that are under the control of the
justice system (called system variables) and those that cannot be controlled
by the justice system (called estimator variables) (Wells & Olson, 2003).
134 Applied Criminal Psychology

Estimator variables include both the individual differences among wit-

nesses and the characteristics of the witnessed event that make correct iden-
tification more or less likely. A variety of individual differences have been
tested, including gender, race, age, and personality. Of these, just two have
consistently shown differences in identification accuracy. With respect to age,
young adults have proved to be less susceptible than children or the elderly
are to making false identifications when the perpetrator is not in the lineup
(Pozzulo & Lindsay, 1998). With respect to race, there is no overall advan-
tage for one race over another, but almost forty years of research has demon-
strated that individuals are more successful at identifying members of their
own race than of other races (Malpass & Kravitz, 1969; Meissner & Brigham,
2001).
Research has also identified numerous aspects of the witnessed event that
can affect identification accuracy. Some of these are aspects of the physical
environment where the crime took place. Correct identifications are more
likely when the witness has better opportunities, including sufficient time and
attention, to see the perpetrator’s face (e.g. Ellis, Davies, & Shepherd, 1977;
Yarmey, 1986). Identifications are also better when the witness believes the
crime to be more serious (Leippe, Wells & Ostrom, 1978).
Other factors have to do with the perpetrators themselves. Perpetrators
are easier to identify if they are unusually attractive (or unattractive) or oth-
erwise distinctive in appearance (Fleishman, Buckley, Klosinsky, Smith, &
Tuck, 1976; Light, Kayra-Stuart & Hollander, 1979). Perpetrators (even dis-
tinctive-looking ones) become much more difficult to identify if they use
even simple disguises (Cutler et al., 1987).
System variables are called this because the legal system has some power
to change them for the better. System variables include the type of lineup
used and the people involved in creating and administering it, the instruc-
tions given to witnesses, and the use of other evidence gathering procedures
before and after lineups.
The first important consideration is what type of lineup should be used. In
traditional, simultaneous lineups, several individuals or photographs are
viewed at the same time, and the witness is asked whether the perpetrator is
present in the group (Wogalter, Malpass & McQuiston, 2004). This lineup
type, still commonly used in the United States and many other countries, has
been criticized because it leads witnesses to make a relative judgment. That
is, witnesses often decide which of the people present most closely matches
their memory of the perpetrator, rather than deciding whether each individ-
ual is or is not the perpetrator (an absolute judgment). A newer type of line-
up is now in use in some U.S. jurisdictions, exclusively in the United
Kingdom, and elsewhere in the world. In the sequential lineup, the witness
views only one individual or photograph at a time, and (with some local vari-
 Eyewitness Memory 135

ation) must make a yes or no judgment about that person before the next
person is viewed. This procedure is designed to eliminate the kind of relative
judgments encouraged by simultaneous lineups (Lindsay, 1999). The superi-
ority of the sequential procedure has been advocated in a survey of eyewit-
ness testimony experts (Kassin, Tubb, Hosch & Memon, 2001) and support-
ed by many studies, including one meta-analysis (Steblay, Dysart, Fulero &
Lindsay, 2001; but see McQuiston-Surrett, Malpass & Tredoux, 2006).
How should the lineups be created, and who should administer them? A
lineup or photospread is made up of one suspect and several foils, or known
innocents. For it to be fair, the suspect should not stick out from the crowd
(Brigham, Ready & Spier, 1990). Practically, this means that there should be
enough foils in a lineup that the chance of an innocent suspect being select-
ed is low and that the suspect is not distinctive looking within the group.
Ideally, the foils should be chosen on the basis of the witness’ description
rather than on the looks of the suspect. If the foils are chosen to match the
looks of the suspect, the suspect will always look more like himself or herself
than like any of the foils. This makes the lineup inherently biased (Wells et
al., 1998).
Sometimes witnesses are asked to identify the perpetrator from a book of
mugshots before they see the lineup. Those witnesses who pick an innocent
person from a book of mugshots are very likely to falsely identify the same
person in a subsequent lineup (Brigham & Cairns, 1988; Dysart, Lindsay,
Hammond & Dupuis, 2001). Thus one relatively minor error (thinking that
a photograph in a book looks like the perpetrator) can lead quickly to a
major error (falsely identifying an innocent suspect in a lineup) and a sub-
stantial risk of miscarriage of justice.
Another important consideration is who is present during the lineup
administration. Just as double-blind drug studies (where neither the patient
nor the person interacting with the patient knows whether the patient is
receiving active drug or placebo) have been shown to be important in med-
ical research, so double-blind lineup administration has been advocated in
eyewitness research (Wells et al., 1998). Lineups are made double-blind sim-
ply by having them administered by someone who does not know who the
suspect is. This is important because administrators who know who the sus-
pect is may unknowingly send signals to the witness to suggest who the sus-
pect is or may respond to correct identifications with approving feedback.
This feedback has been shown not only to make witnesses unjustifiably con-
fident of their identifications but also to make them more certain of their
memories and overly optimistic about the circumstances in which they wit-
nessed the crime (Wells & Bradfield, 1998; Wright & Skagerberg, 2007).
All of these different causes of eyewitness identification errors have signi-
ficant consequences for innocent suspects. Of the more than 200 Americans
136 Applied Criminal Psychology

who have so far been exonerated on the basis of postconviction DNA test-
ing, eyewitness misidentification has been a factor in at least 75 percent
(Garrett, 2008). That is, eyewitness misidentification has been a major cause
of false convictions of innocent individuals.

EARWITNESSES

Some witnessed crimes take place in the dark, or while victims’ or wit-
nesses’ eyes are covered or directed away from the events of the crime; other
crimes, including some types of fraud, can actually take place on the phone.
Some witnesses have impaired eyesight or less than optimal views of crime
events for other reasons (perhaps because they are hiding from perpetrators
or their view is obstructed). Beyond these relatively special cases, memory
for conversations is relevant in a sizeable number of legal cases (Davis &
Friedman, 2007). Because of these facts, witnesses’ auditory memory for a
crime can be just as important as their visual memory. Thus, there is a sec-
ondary area of study into the memories of earwitnesses, but this is a much
smaller area of research than that of eyewitnesses.
One important problem for earwitnesses is that although familiar voices
(one’s spouse on the phone or a famous person on television) are generally
quite easy to identify, unfamiliar voices are much more difficult (Yarmey,
Yarmey, Yarmey & Parliament, 2001). What’s more, unfamiliar voices are
even harder to identify when they are whispered or muffled (Bull & Clifford,
1984), when they are speaking a foreign language (Philippon, Cherryman,
Bull & Vrij, 2007), or when they change tone because of emotion (Saslove &
Yarmey, 1980). All of these variations are relevant to crime scenes.
Researchers have compared voice identification accuracy with that of face
identifications and found that subjects are worse at making identifications
from auditory lineups than from visual lineups (McAllister, Dale & Keay,
1993). Subjects are also even more susceptible to misinformation in an ear-
witness paradigm than in an eyewitness one (McAllister, Bregman & Lips-
comb, 1988). When witnesses have access to both facial and voice informa-
tion, they seem to prefer to concentrate on faces rather than on voices. This
(involuntary) preference leads to a face overshadowing effect, whereby voice
identification suffers (Cook & Wilding, 1997, 2001). Despite this overall lack
of reliability, research has shown that voice identifications have as much
credibility with potential jurors as face identifications do (McAllister et al.,
1993; Yarmey, 1995).
 Eyewitness Memory 137

SUGGESTIONS FOR REFORM

What can be done to ameliorate the problems caused by faulty eyewitness

memory? We have already hinted at several potential reforms. We address
these more fully and present additional suggestions in this final section. In
particular, we consider the variable nature of system variables and the use-
fulness of expert testimony about eyewitness memory.
Recall that system variables (as distinguished from estimator variables) are
those factors over which the justice system has some control. The creation
and administration of lineups were addressed in our earlier section on mis-
taken identifications. Other system variables include when and how witness-
es are asked questions, the types of questions they are asked, and the other
people and information to which witnesses are exposed. In order to fully pre-
serve the quality of eyewitness memory (just as one would want to fully pre-
serve the quality of physical evidence), all of these variables are important.
A variety of specific recommendations have been made by eyewitness
researchers over the last several decades (e.g. Steblay & Loftus, in press;
Technical Working Group for Eyewitness Accuracy, 1999; Wells et al., 1998).
With respect to lineups, sequential lineups conducted in a double-blind fash-
ion have been advocated over simultaneous and non-double-blind lineups
for the reasons already discussed. Lineups should of course be nonbiased;
that is, the perpetrator should not stand out in the lineup. It has also been
suggested that witnesses should be warned that the perpetrator may not be
present in the lineup, and thus an identification is not mandatory. Because
eyewitness confidence, like eyewitness memory, is malleable, various au-
thors have suggested that confidence should be measured immediately after
witnesses make an identification and certainly before they receive any feed-
back about that identification (e.g. Wells et al., 1998; Wright & Skagerberg,
2007).
Other important recommendations have been made regarding contact
with witnesses. The extensive research into the misinformation effect has led
to recommendations that witnesses be questioned as quickly as possible after
the crime, using questions that are open ended and unbiased (for details, see
Fisher & Schreiber, 2007). Contact among co-witnesses should also be mini-
mized, as should witnesses’ contact with media reports of the events they wit-
nessed (Davis & Loftus, 2007; Gabbert et al., 2003).
Because of the demonstrated problems with eyewitness memory, many
scientists have argued that jurors would benefit if they were given scientific
information about the factors that affect eyewitness accuracy. Research has
shown that many would-be jurors (and some judges) sometimes have beliefs
that are not supported by science or are even contradicted by the scientific
findings (Benton, Ross, Bradshaw Thomas, & Bradshaw, 2006; Wise & Safer,
138 Applied Criminal Psychology

2004). As such, expert testimony designed to assist juries with assessing the
reliability of eyewitness testimony has long been advocated and provided
(Leippe, 1995; Loftus & Ketcham, 1991; Steblay & Loftus, in press).
Unfortunately, because the admissibility of this testimony is at the discretion
of individual judges (in the United States, at least), it is often disallowed on
the grounds that the research findings offer no more than common sense,
that the expert testimony is prejudicial rather than probative, or that the tes-
timony may usurp the jury’s role (Wells et al., 2006). On the other hand,
some criminal convictions have been overturned when expert psychological
testimony has been excluded. Further exploration into the usefulness of ex-
pert testimony, or other means of educating jurors about eyewitness science,
might assist in a goal that we all should seek, namely fewer convictions of the
innocent and more convictions of the truly guilty.
In summary, more than three decades of research into eyewitness memo-
ry has demonstrated that eyewitnesses tend to err in predictable ways. This
research has led to a variety of specific recommendations for investigative
and courtroom practice. Unfortunately, this advice has not been uniformly
adopted, and so eyewitnesses (and earwitnesses) tend to exert more power in
the legal system than their accuracy justifies.

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 Chapter Seven

COGNITIVE INTERVIEWING
CORAL J DANDO AND REBECCA M ILNE

T he cognitive interview (CI) is a multidisciplinary forensic interview tech-

nique concerned exclusively with the retrieval of information from
memory. It is one of the most-researched and widely acknowledged inter-
view procedures for enhancing eyewitness memorial performance and has
been described as “one of the most exciting developments in psychology in
the last ten years” (Memon, 2000, p. 343). Indeed, the CI has been funda-
mental in shaping the prevailing approach to investigative interviewing in
the United Kingdom,1 as well as many other countries (e.g. Australia, United
Statesa, and Canada). This chapter will commence by outlining the impor-
tance of witness information to the investigation of crime, followed by a brief
introduction to some of the problems associated with police interviews prior
to the formation of the CI. The CI procedure will then be described and the
development process will be outlined, including a review of the relevant the-
ory and empirical research. Finally, research pertaining to police officers’
application of the procedure will be introduced.

WITNESS INFORMATION

During a criminal investigation police officers strive to answer two prima-

ry questions, namely what has occurred and who is responsible (Milne &
Bull, 2006). When attempting to answer these questions and in order to bring
the perpetrators of crime to justice, police officers require information. One
of the primary sources of such information are witnesses and victims (the
1. For ease of reading United Kingdom has been used throughout this chapter. However, it
should be noted that we are primarily referring to England, Wales, and Northern Ireland.

147
148 Applied Criminal Psychology

term “witness” will hereafter be used to describe both an onlooker and a vic-
tim of crime). Indeed, it is well-accepted that witnesses are a “central and
important” feature of any criminal investigation (Sanders, 1986). Not only do
they generally provide the central leads within an enquiry (Berresheim &
Weber, 2003; Kebbell & Milne, 1998), but they also provide information that
directs the entire investigatory process from the very outset (Milne & Bull,
2001; Milne & Shaw, 1999). For example, in the initial stages, witnesses
report what has occurred and frequently provide a description of the perpe-
trator. Further, they often signal additional lines of enquiry and even indicate
other potential sources of information. As the investigatory process pro-
gresses, witnesses can be asked to identify perpetrators, objects, or places,
and in the final stages of bringing an offender to justice, witness evidence is
central to most court cases (Kebbell & Milne, 1998; Zander & Henderson,
1993). Moreover, in an adversarial system, as governs the criminal justice
system in England and Wales (and many other English-speaking countries),
it is not unusual for the prosecution to view witness testimony as more
important to their case than an offender’s confession (Wolchover & Heaton-
Armstrong, 1996). Certainly, when presented at a court of law, witness testi-
mony is extremely powerful; research indicates that jurors rely heavily on
witness accounts of what they have experienced (e.g. Cutler, Penrod &
Dexter, 1990). Not surprisingly, witness testimony has also been found to
increase the likelihood that a perpetrator will be not only apprehended but
also prosecuted (Lieppe, 1980; Visher, 1987).
In light of the significance of witness information to the process of crimi-
nal justice, from the very beginning of an investigation through to any sub-
sequent court case, it is clear that incomplete and inaccurate witness infor-
mation can result in serious negative outcomes (Savage & Milne, 2006).
Therefore, obtaining as full and as accurate an account as possible of what a
witness has experienced is of paramount importance.

Police Interviewing
It is police officers who are generally tasked with gathering witness infor-
mation and this is usually done by way of an interview. An interview (a con-
versation with a purpose) can be conducted over a wide gamut of situations
ranging from an initial brief conversational exchange at the scene of a crime
to a more formal in-depth interview conducted at a police station, a witness’s
home or workplace. An interview is, therefore, a fundamental information-
gathering opportunity (ACPO, 2001; Milne & Bull, 2006) and a frequent
“bread and butter” daily activity for all police officers from the very begin-
ning of their police careers.
 Cognitive Interviewing 149

Interviewing is acknowledged as a complex skill. It is a process of con-

versational exchange (Shepherd, 1991) in which both the witness and the
interviewing officer play an integral role. During an interview, witnesses are
asked to work hard in terms of searching their memory and explaining, in
detail, what they can remember about a previously experienced event, and
it is the interviewer’s task to help each witness to give the fullest and most
accurate account of his or her experience. Remembering a crime event, such
as a robbery or an assault, is essentially a constructive process, and there
exists a large body of research that indicates that the manner in which a wit-
ness’ memory of a to be remembered (TBR) event is accessed and con-
structed can be a significant determinant, not only of the amount of infor-
mation he or she recalls but also of the accuracy of that information. It is very
important that any information recalled is, in fact, correct. For example, the
types of questions asked, the manner in which they are asked, and the struc-
ture of the retrieval process (in this case the interview) have all been found
to have an impact on witness memorial performance in terms of both quan-
tity (amount) and quality (accuracy) (e.g. see Loftus, 1975, 1979; Milne & Bull,
2001; Tulving, 1991).
Unfortunately, however, prior to the early 1990s, police officers through-
out the world typically received a very limited amount of witness interview
training (see Milne & Bull, 2001). For example, Sanders (1986) found that
only 2 percent of his sample of U.S. police officers had undergone any wit-
ness interview training. George (1991) surveyed several U.K. police forces
and found that some provided no witness interview training at all and others
provided just one day. Furthermore, when training was provided it tended to
be highly programmatic, focusing purely on the “mechanics” of the interview
process: the who, what, where, when, why, and how. In essence, police offi-
cers were being trained as report takers rather than as information gatherers.
Where no formal training was provided, officers simply learned on the job
by observing their peers who, themselves, had generally undergone little or
no training and who, although experienced, were not necessarily competent.
Unfortunately, reflecting this lack of training, witness interviews were gener-
ally found to be poorly conducted. They tended to be interviewer-driven
statement-taking exercises during which interviewer-interviewee communi-
cation was often found to be ineffective. Moreover, it was clear that witness
memorial performance was frequently compromised by officers employing
interview techniques that actually impeded, rather than assisted, the memo-
ry process (e.g. Fisher, Geiselman & Raymond, 1987; George, 1991;
McLean, 1995). Thus, there was a clear need for a witness interview method
to be developed.
150 Applied Criminal Psychology

THE COGNITIVE INTERVIEW

In the early 1980s, in response to many requests by American police

investigators and other legal professionals for a method of improving witness
memory, American psychologists Ron Fisher and Ed Geiselman developed
the CI procedure. Devised as a practical forensic tool, the CI was designed
for use with any cooperative interviewee (witnesses, victims, and suspects)
and was concerned exclusively with the retrieval of information from mem-
ory, specifically with how the retrieval (remembering) process might be opti-
mized during an interview situation. Initially presented in 1984, the proce-
dure evolved over several ensuing years with further refinements and
enhancements being reported in a series of subsequent papers. This devel-
opment process is well-documented and falls into two fairly distinct phases,
with the initial procedure being referred to as the original CI and the second
as the enhanced CI (ECI).

The Original Cognitive Interview

The original CI (Geiselman et al., 1984) comprised four retrieval compo-
nents, namely (1) mental reinstatement of context (MRC), (2) report every-
thing, (3) recall in a variety of temporal orders (CTO), and (4) change per-
spective (CP) techniques. Each of these components, generally referred to as
the “cognitive” components, will now be described, as will their theoretical
underpinnings and the empirical research available at the time, that evi-
denced their suitability for inclusion in the original CI.
The MRC technique is one of the principle components of the original CI.
When applying this technique the interviewer encourages the witness to
mentally reinstate both the psychological and the physical environments that
existed at the time of the TBR event in order that they might act as retrieval
cues (triggers) for that event. The procedure comprises a series of “mini”
instructions whereby the interviewer encourages the interviewee to recreate
the context of the TBR event one step at a time. In between each of the mini
instructions, the interviewer pauses for several seconds to allow the witness
sufficient time to reinstate the context as instructed. For example:
I would like to try and help you to remember as much as you can. As I talk to you I
want you to think about each of the things I say, as I say them. Closing your eyes or
staring or looking at a blank wall may help you. To begin I would like you to try to
think back to the day the event happened. Think about that day . . . what had you
been doing . . . what was the weather like. . . . Think about the place that the event
happened . . . try and get a picture of it in your mind. Think about the layout of the
place . . . think of all the objects that were there . . . think about the colors. Think
about the smells. How did you feel at the time? Now think about the event and the
people involved . . . focus on what happened . . . when you are ready I would like
 Cognitive Interviewing 151

you to tell me everything that you can remember, in your own time and at your own
pace.

This component emanates from the encoding specificity principle

(Tulving & Thomson, 1973), which provides a theoretical framework for
understanding the power of contextual information and how it can affect
(trigger) memory. It has been suggested that just because something cannot
be remembered, it does not necessarily follow that it has been lost com-
pletely. The memory in question may simply be inaccessible (still present in
memory but not able to be accessed or found; Tulving & Pearlstone, 1968).
This was illustrated in a series of word association experiments in the 1970s
(Thomson & Tulving, 1970; Tulving & Thomson, 1973). The results indicat-
ed that memory could indeed be improved when information present at the
time of learning (encoding) was presented again at the time of remembering
(retrieval). Presenting such material had apparently facilitated conscious
remembering of aspects of the original event that were not remembered in
the absence of that material (in the case of this research, words). However, it
is not always possible or advisable for a witness to return to the scene of a
crime (this may prove too traumatic, which can interfere with recall, and the
crime scene may have altered). Further, context may not always be external
(physical). A witness’s subjective state (mood and feelings) can also be an
important aspect of the encoding environment (Schacter, 1996). Thus, the
MRC instruction attempts to facilitate maximum recall by helping the wit-
ness to mentally reinstate the contextual information (both physical and
mental) that was present at the time of encoding.
The report everything component instructs witnesses to not edit any
details about the TBR event, even those details they believe to be insignifi-
cant or irrelevant. For example:
Some people hold back information because they are not quite sure that it is impor-
tant, or you may think that I already know this information. Please do not leave any-
thing out. I am interested in absolutely everything that you remember, anything that
pops into your head. Even partial memories and things you think may not be impor-
tant. Please tell, just tell me it all.

Memory for an event is believed to be stored as a series of coded repre-

sentations (Bower, 1967) whereby what is stored in memory is not an exact
replica of the TBR event itself but a multiplicity of interconnected codes that
preserve the experience. Hence, there are likely to be several means of
retrieving or cueing witness memory of the TBR event (Melton & Martin,
1972). Furthermore, interviewees often feel ill at ease or apprehensive in a
formal interview setting. They may be of the opinion that the police are
already knowledgeable about the event and are only likely to be interested
in “important” and fully remembered information. Consequently, informa-
152 Applied Criminal Psychology

tion is often held back. In light of this, the report everything instruction aims
to lower a witness’s subjective criteria for reporting information, the hope
being that even partial or apparently insignificant features of an event may
trigger previously inaccessible memory codes. The report everything in-
struction is also viewed as a useful method for increasing the overall amount
of information collected from all witnesses to a particular event, and lots of
small, apparently insignificant pieces of information collected from several
witness accounts can be of investigative value when pieced together.
The multicomponent view of a memory trace suggests that there are sev-
eral ways of accessing memory codes. Thus, the CTO component was
included as an additional method of accessing memory codes that may have
been previously irretrievable. The CTO technique is also based on the theo-
retical assumption that the retrieval of information from memory can be
influenced by prior knowledge and the application of schemas and scripts
(Schank & Abelson, 1977). It is suggested that predictive schemas act as orga-
nizing structures for knowledge and that script-based understanding fills in
aspects of an event according to previous experiences. New information is,
therefore, understood in terms of old information. Hence, script guided
retrieval can result in limited retrieval due to the filtering of recalled infor-
mation that does not fit the script or erroneous filling of gaps when recall is
poor or scant. Encouraging an interviewee to recall the TBR event from the
end, or even the middle, is therefore aimed at limiting script-consistent recall
by interfering with forward-only recall. For example:
It is natural to go through the incident in your own order. However, I would like to
try something which sometimes helps people to remember more. What I would like
you to do is to tell me what happened backwards. I know it sounds hard but I am
going to help you. To start, what is the very last thing that you remember happening
. . . what happened before that . . . what happened just before that (this prompt can
be repeated, if necessary, until the interviewee reaches the beginning of the TBR
event).

Research had indicated that a backward search through autobiographical

memory was more effective than either a forward or a random search
because it led to less recall failure (Whitten & Leonard, 1981). Other
researchers have also reported that a reverse-order recall elicited more
details of a TBR event (especially actions) when compared with a forward-
order recall (Geiselman, Fisher, MacKinnon & Holland, 1986; Geiselman &
Callot, 1990).
The CP component of the CI aims to access memory codes that may have
been irretrievable using the three previous techniques (Bower, 1967). The CP
technique encourages witnesses to recall the TBR event from a variety of
personal perspectives. For example witnesses are instructed as follows:
 Cognitive Interviewing 153

Try to recall the incident from the perspective of another person involved in the inci-
dent. Think about where he or she was and isolate everything that you can remem-
ber about them, as if they are in a spotlight. Describe what he or she would have
seen.

It was research by Anderson and Pichert (1978) that prompted the inclu-
sion of this technique. Participants were asked to read a narrative passage
from the perspective of either a burglar or a house purchaser, after which
they were instructed to write down everything they could remember about
the story. After a distracter task, participants were then instructed to recall
the story a second time from a different perspective (those who had initially
read the passage from a burglar’s perspective then changed to a home
buyer’s perspective and vice versa). It was found that when participants had
changed perspective, additional information important to their new perspec-
tive was recalled. This could not be explained in terms of the encoding
process (the process of perceiving and transforming experienced events into
memory codes) because the perspective shift had occurred after the passage
had been read and initially recalled. It appears that participants had selec-
tively attended to, and subsequently remembered, elements of the story that
were significant according to the perspective in operation at the time. How-
ever, more information must have been encoded than was initially recalled
because participants were able to recall more information after a shift of per-
sonal perspective.

Empirical Evaluation of the Original Cognitive Interview

Between 1984 and 1987 Geiselman and colleagues conducted several
empirical research studies designed to investigate the efficacy of the original
CI. In the initial evaluation (Geiselman et al., 1984), mock witnesses viewed
a short (non-violent) staged event and forty-eight hours later were asked to
write down everything they could remember in a booklet. Participants in the
CI condition were provided with instructions for each of the four cognitive
retrieval components on a large board, whereas those in the control condi-
tion received no instructions. Analysis of participants’ recall performance
revealed that those in the CI condition recalled significantly more correct
items of information than did those in the control, with no concomitant
increase in the amount of incorrect recall.
This initial evaluation indicated that the original CI had promise as a pro-
cedure for enhancing the quantity of correct recall without compromising the
quality (the amount of correct recall as a percentage of total recall) of that
information. However, questionnaires had been used in this initial evalua-
tion, so there had been no interviewer-interviewee interaction, as is the case
when witnesses are interviewed in real life. Furthermore, student participants
154 Applied Criminal Psychology

had administered the procedure themselves, and, therefore, it was not known
whether they had utilized each of the individual components. Finally, there
had been no comparison with any other interview methods.
Geiselman, Fisher, Mackinnon, and Holland (1985), therefore, completed
a follow-up study comparing the effectiveness of the original CI with two
other interview methods, namely a standard police interview (SI) and a hyp-
nosis interview (HI). Participants initially viewed a violent crime film (used
to train Los Angeles Police Department [LAPD] police officers). Forty-eight
hours later they were interviewed, face-to-face, by law enforcement officers
recruited from agencies in the United States (CIA, police, private detectives,
and polygraph specialists) using either a CI, SI, or HI. SI interviewers used
their normal everyday interview procedure. The HI interviewers followed
the guidelines, in operation at the time, for conducting hypnosis interviews.
The CI interviewers described the four CI components to each interviewee
prior to the interview. These were then listed and placed in full view of the
interviewee during the entire interview. The results of this study closely repli-
cated those previously obtained (Geiselman et al., 1984). Both the CI and the
HI conditions elicited an average of approximately 30 percent more correct
information compared with the SI condition with no concomitant increase in
the number of errors. However, the CI was viewed as the preferable tech-
nique because it was free from the legal concerns surrounding the use of
forensic hypnosis (at that time in the United States) and, furthermore, the CI
took less time to learn. These results not only provided further support for
the superiority of the CI procedure per se but also gave some indication as to
its efficacy in more ecologically valid conditions.
In light of the fact that the previous research had been conducted with a
student population, which is not representative of the general population,
Geiselman, Fisher, MacKinnon, and Holland (1986) then conducted a third
study in an attempt to increase the human ecological validity of the CI tech-
nique, to further examine its efficacy, and to extend its generalizability.
Adults between the ages of twenty and fifty-two years from the general pop-
ulation viewed one of the violent training films used in the previous study
and were interviewed forty-eight hours later using either a SI or a CI inter-
view procedure. Interviews were conducted by nine serving police officers
who had been trained to use the CI. Again, it was found that the memorial
performance of those interviewed using the CI was superior (for the amount
of correct information recalled) to those in the SI condition by an average of
more than 17 percent. Further, there were no effects of age, annual income,
or ethnic group on the results of the adult participants.
The combined results of these initial three studies strongly supported the
CI superiority effect for enhancing both the quality and quantity of eyewit-
ness recall. However, there were some elements of the CI procedure that
 Cognitive Interviewing 155

were also similar to forensic hypnosis (e.g. instructions to mentally reinstate

the context, and forensic hypnosis had been found to not only increase the
amount of inaccurate recall but also to negatively affect witnesses’ responses
to misleading questions (Sanders & Simmons, 1983; Sheenhan, Grigg &
McCann, 1984). Hence, a fourth study was conducted (Geiselman, Fisher,
Cohen, Holland & Surtes, 1986) to investigate eyewitness responses to lead-
ing and misleading questions during a CI. Both of these types of questions
suggest the answer; for example, “he had black hair didn’t he?” However, the
former leads the interviewee to the correct response, whereas the latter leads
the interviewee to an incorrect response. Employing similar methodology to
that of the previously reported research (Geiselman et al., 1984), the CI was
compared with a SI. Results revealed that the CI did not enhance the nega-
tive effect of either type of question but instead decreased the effect of both
leading and misleading question types on incorrect responding.
In sum, the results of the aforementioned studies combined to offer strong
empirical support for the superiority of the CI procedure compared with a
SI and forensic hypnosis. The CI procedure had significantly increased cor-
rect eyewitness recall without a concomitant increase in the amount of erro-
neous information recalled. Further, this effect held (1) in controlled labora-
tory settings; (2) using students, law enforcement agency workers, and police
officers as interviewers; and (3) when interviewing student and nonstudent
interviewees. In addition, the CI also appeared to reduce the effects of both
leading and misleading questions on recall. However, although this original
CI procedure comprised a set of memory enhancing components to be given
at the start of the interview, there was very little guidance concerning the
method of presentation, the structure of the interview, the sequencing of
questions, or interviewer behavior. Moreover, because the procedure had
been devised as a practical forensic tool, it was necessary that future research
should make the transition from the laboratory to more applied settings.

The Enhanced Cognitive Interview

As indicated earlier, field research investigating the techniques employed
by police officers when interviewing real witnesses (Fisher et al., 1987) had
revealed some idiosyncratic shortcomings. Almost without exception the
interviews lacked a uniform structure. Officers used questioning techniques
that resulted in brief witness responses either confirming or contradicting the
officers’ intuition. Of particular note were three interviewer behaviors, com-
mon to all the interviews, which had the potential to seriously hinder witness
recall. First, every officer asked the witness to describe in a narrative fashion
what he or she had experienced but were then constantly interrupted
throughout that initial account. Second, all of the interviews were construct-
156 Applied Criminal Psychology

ed using a series of direct short-answer questions that requested specific

information. Finally, interviewers displayed a general lack of communication
skills, for example using inappropriate language, judgmental comments,
nonneutral wording of questioning, and negative phrasing. Similar findings
were also found in the United Kingdom (George, 1991; McLean, 1995).
In light of these findings it became clear that the efficacy of the memory
enhancing cognitive components, as previously described, was likely to be
compromised due to an apparent lack of social and communication skills.
Accordingly, Fisher, Geiselman, Raymond, Jurkevich, and Warhaftig (1987)
made a set of recommendations that they believed would significantly en-
hance officers’ interview technique in general. The resultant ECI procedure
retains the original four cognitive components (mental reinstatement of con-
text, report everything, recall in a variety of temporal orders, and change
perspective) and adds a conversational element to the interview process. In
addition, Fisher, Geiselman, Raymond, and colleagues (1987) recommend
that the interview itself should be conducted in an appropriate environment
as people have limited mental resources with which to process information
(Baddeley, 1986), thus, disruptions and distractions should be minimized to
ensure maximum concentration and attention during retrieval ( Johnston,
Greenberg, & Fisher, 1970). Having listened to an interviewee’s initial recall
of an event, it was further suggested that the interviewer should only then ask
questions in a manner relevant to the mental representation that a particular
interviewee has of the event in question.
Because previously introduced memory of an event is not the literal input
stimulus but rather is thought to be a series of coded representations (Bower,
1967), each witness’s stored mental representation is likely to be unique.
Thus, it follows that interviewers should tailor their questioning accordingly.
A rigid sequencing of requests for information imposes a “police report” style
of organization on the retrieval process that may limit witness recall. To that
end, witness-compatible questioning dictates that the interviewer should active-
ly listen to each interviewee’s account of what he or she has experienced and
ask questions in the same order as the interviewee initially recounted the
event. Guided imagery is also recommended as a method of inducing recall
by helping the interviewee to recall specific details of an event. Guided
imagery differs from MRC in that it helps an interviewee to imagine in his
or her mind’s eye highly detailed minute parts of the event as opposed to the
more global approach of MRC. For example, a witness may be asked by the
interviewer to generate in his or her mind a detailed image of the perpetra-
tor and then to develop or sharpen that image so that it is as detailed as pos-
sible. Having been allowed as much time as necessary to develop that image
(at least several seconds), the witness will then be asked to probe the image
by concentrating on each specific part (e.g. the head, hair, face, eyes, etc.).
 Cognitive Interviewing 157

However, this is an interviewer-led technique. Recently it has been suggest-

ed that a more molecular approach should be adopted whereby the inter-
viewee is allowed to dictate what he or she imagined rather than be guided
by the interviewer (for more on molecular context, see Bekerian & Conway,
1988).
In an attempt to improve the social and communication aspects of the wit-
ness interview process it was also recommended that extra time be taken to
establish rapport with the interviewee, so reducing his or her anxiety about
the interview process. This should be done by commencing the interview
with innocuous and easily answered questions. In addition, officers should
tailor their language appropriately by avoiding (1) judgmental and personal
comments, (2) rememorized patterns of language, and (3) jargon. Instead,
simple straightforward language should be employed, thus addressing inter-
viewer behaviors and procedures thought to negatively affect the overall suc-
cess of the interview process. Several straightforward interviewer behaviors
were included that aimed to encourage focused retrieval. First, the inter-
viewer should explain or convey to the interviewee that it is his or her effort
that will affect the outcome of the interview and that ultimately the success
of the interview will depend on the interviewee’s mental effort. This is done
by encouraging the interviewee to both concentrate and actively participate.
For example, the interviewer should both allow and encourage the intervie-
wee to do most of the talking by the use of open-ended questions whenever
possible and by the strategic use of pauses. Open-ended questions are par-
ticularly beneficial for information-gathering purposes because they elicit
some of the most accurate information (e.g. Dent, 1991; Poole & Lamb, 1998)
and invite longer and more detailed responses.
Indeed, open-ended questions (e.g. tell me everything about the robbery)
are associated with longer response latencies (longer time spent thinking
before answering) compared with specific closed questions (e.g. those that
tend to start with what, where, when, etc.). This suggests that, when asked an
open question, interviewees may well be conducting a more detailed and
thorough memory search. Pauses and periods of silence used in conjunction
with open-ended questions also provide an interviewee with an opportunity
to continue developing his or her answer. Conversely, specific closed ques-
tions should be used sparingly because these generally invite limited nar-
rowly defined responses that only concern the specific request (Bull, 1992).
Further, the interviewer should never interrupt the interviewee but instead
wait until he or she has finished and only then ask questions because inter-
ruptions disrupt concentration and distract the interviewee from his or her
memory search. Finally at the end of the interview, the interviewee’s account
of what he or she has experienced should be reviewed by the interviewer,
thus, providing an opportunity for the interviewee to add or change any
158 Applied Criminal Psychology

details and for the interviewer to check the accuracy of his or her notes (see
Fisher & Geiselman, 1992, for an in-depth description of the ECI).
It can be seen that the ECI concentrates on three core perspectives, name-
ly the representation of knowledge, the memory retrieval process, and com-
munication skills. One important further refinement of the interview proce-
dure was the recommendation that it should follow a sequence of stages, the
expectation being that each stage would contribute both individually and
incrementally to the overall efficacy of the enhanced procedure.

Empirical Evaluation of the Enhanced Cognitive Interview

The first empirical investigation of the efficacy of the ECI (Fisher,
Geiselman, Raymond et al., 1987) compared the original CI to the ECI.
Undergraduates were interviewed two days after having viewed one of the
LAPD training films (as used in Geiselman et al., 1985) employing either the
original CI or ECI. The original CI comprised the four memory retrieval
components that were described to the participant at the beginning of the
interview in the following order (1) mental reinstatement of context, (2)
report everything, (3) change temporal order, and (4) change perspective.
The ECI, in addition to the four original components, included witness com-
patible questioning and focused retrieval. Further, the components were to
be used in the following sequence. First, the interviewer should invite an ini-
tial free recall account using an open-ended question or invitation, during
which the interviewer should not interrupt the witness. After this initial recall
account the interviewer should return to specific episodes within the initial
account to probe specific details with open and specific closed questions, and
finally, the interviewer should end the interview by summarizing what the
interviewee said. Results revealed that the ECI elicited 45 percent more cor-
rect items of information compared with the original CI with no differences
between the two conditions in the amount of erroneous recall. Because the
original CI had previously been found to be approximately 30 percent more
effective than a SI (Geiselman et al., 1985) it was thus concluded that the ECI
produced 75 percent more correct recall compared with a SI.
Having demonstrated the effectiveness of the ECI in the laboratory,
Fisher, Geiselman, and Amador (1989) then tested the procedure in the field.
American police detectives tape-recorded several interviews with real-life
crime victims or witnesses using SI procedure. The detectives were then
assigned to one of two interview conditions, namely untrained or ECI. Those
in the latter condition underwent ECI training, whereas the untrained group
served as a control comparison. After training, detectives from each group
tape-recorded several more interviews with a number of witnesses. Analysis
of the resultant interviews revealed that the ECI-trained detectives elicited,
 Cognitive Interviewing 159

on average, 47 percent more information after training compared to before

training.
As was the case with the previous laboratory-based studies, it was not only
the amount of information recalled that was important but also the accuracy
of that information. Data from laboratory studies had revealed no significant
differences in accuracy rates between the original CI and a SI (Geiselman et
al., 1985, 1986). However, field studies with real witnesses and victims did
not allow such a measure because what exactly had occurred was not known.
Therefore, accuracy could only be estimated by comparing witness reports
with other sources of information such as other witness and victim reports,
confessions, and CCTV footage. Overall 94 percent of information was cor-
roborated, but more importantly corroboration rates were similar for the
pretrained and posttrained interviews (93 percent cf. 94.5 percent) indicating
that, as in the laboratory, the increase in information elicited by the ECI was
not accompanied by a concomitant increase in the amount of erroneous
recall.
In addition to the aforementioned research, which had all been conduct-
ed in the United States by the same group of researchers, numerous inde-
pendent research studies have been carried out in both the laboratory and
the field (e.g. Ascherman, Mantweill & Köhnken, 1991; Clifford & George,
1996; Köhnken, Thurer & Zoberbier, 1994), the most recent of which (Stein
& Memon, 2006) investigated the efficacy of the procedure in a developing
country. Stein and Memon report that, compared to a “Brazilian” SI, the CI
procedure again elicited significantly more correct recall with no concomi-
tant increase in erroneous recall or drop in accuracy rate.
Thus, from an applied perspective, there is a significant body of research
to support the superiority of both the original and the ECI procedure over a
SI procedure (as previously described). However, the type of control/com-
parison interview used in CI research can vary according to the researcher’s
perspective. Generally, the “applied” research approach has been one of
comparing the ECI with the method being employed by police interviewers
at the time (as was the case in the aforementioned empirical research con-
ducted during the development process). From this perspective, it is argued
that it is only necessary for the ECI to outperform the SI. However, from a
theoretical perspective, it is suggested that, because SI have been found to be
less than adequate, it may be that the ECI superiority effect is simply as a
result of its comparison to such poorly conducted standard interviews
(Köhnken et al., 1994). Therefore, a more theoretical approach tends to be
that of employing a structured interview as the control. This is a variant of
the ECI procedure which is of comparable quality (matched for recall
attempts, structure, question types, and communication, etc.), but minus the
“cognitive” mnemonic components. Employing this more theoretical ap-
160 Applied Criminal Psychology

proach, research conducted in Germany (Köhnken et al., 1994; Mantwell,

Köhnken & Aschermann, 1995) and the United Kingdom (Memon, Wark,
Bull & Köhnken, 1997) has found similar results in terms of enhancing cor-
rect recall without a concomitant increase in errors. Although some studies
have reported a slight increase in the amount of incorrect information
recalled using the ECI, nevertheless, the overall accuracy rates (proportion
of correct details relative to the total amount of details reported) have been
found to be almost identical. Therefore, irrespective of the control interview,
research has consistently found that the CI/ECI enhances the quantity of
information recalled by witnesses without jeopardizing its quality.
These positive effects have also been found in several countries: the
United Kingdom (e.g. Clifford & Gwyer, 1999), United States (e.g. Brock,
Fisher & Cutler, 1999), Canada (e.g. Turtle, Lawrence & Leslie, 1994),
Germany (e.g. Köhnken et al., 1994), and Spain (e.g. Campos & Alonso-
Quecuty, 1999). Moreover, the CI/ECI has also been found to be effective
across various populations (e.g. children: Akehurst, Milne & Köhnken, 2003;
Holliday, 2003; children with mild learning difficulties: Robinson &
McGuire, 2006; and the elderly: Wright & Holliday, 2007). For a meta-analy-
sis, see Köhnken, Milne, Memon, and Bull (1999).

THE COGNITIVE INTERVIEW AS A PRACTICAL FORENSIC

TOOL

There appears to be little doubt that the CI is an effective witness inter-

view procedure. Furthermore, research has indicated that the procedure is
well-received by those tasked with applying it (Kebbell & Milne, 1998), and,
as far as the authors are aware, the use of the CI procedure has not been
viewed as contentious in a court of law. Moreover, in the United Kingdom,
the CI underpins the current investigative interview model and is taught to
all police recruits and expert interviewers alike (see Griffiths & Milne, 2005
for an introduction to the tiered approach to interview training in the United
Kingdom). Likewise many officers in the United States, Canada, and
Australia are taught the procedure. However, despite all of this and the fact
that it was designed as a practical tool, in terms of its forensic application,
there is much to suggest that the CI is not regularly or fully applied.
For example, in the United Kingdom experienced police investigators
(with more than ten years experience) have consistently reported that they
apply some of the individual CI components they are taught far more fre-
quently (e.g. uninterrupted free recall, establish rapport, and report every-
thing) than they do others (e.g. CP and MRC) and that often they do not
apply the CI procedure at all (e.g. Kebbell, Milne & Wagstaff, 1999;
 Cognitive Interviewing 161

Longford, 1996; Wright & Holliday, 2005). More recently, the authors of this
chapter (Dando, Wilcock & Milne, 2008) surveyed a large sample of the
least-experienced police investigators (less than two years police service),
and they too found that this group of officers reported applying some of the
CI components far more frequently (e.g. establish rapport, uninterrupted
free recall account, explain, and report everything) than they did others (e.g.
MRC, witness compatible questioning, and never guess). Moreover, not one
officer reported applying the CI procedure in its entirety, despite it being the
only witness interview procedure they are currently taught.
Field research investigating officers’ application of the CI procedure is
sparse. However, what is available appears to support the aforementioned
research pertaining to officers’ perceptions of their witness interview behav-
ior. Two field studies carried out in the early 1990s (Clifford & George, 1996;
George, 1991) found that none of the officers applied the CI procedure as a
whole. More recently, a national evaluation of investigative interviewing in
England and Wales, conducted by the second author of this chapter (Clarke
& Milne, 2001), reviewed 75 “real life” witness interviews. There was no evi-
dence at all that the CI procedure was used in 83 percent of these witness
interviews. Similarly, research conducted in Canada, the United States, and
Australia (e.g. Wright & Alison, 2004) suggests that a similar situation may
also exist in these countries. Thus, the question arises as to why such a wide-
ly researched and generally accepted method of enhancing witness recall
appears to be so infrequently applied by those whose core function is to
investigate crime and to, thus, interview witnesses. It is to this question that
the concluding part of this chapter now turns.
Further consideration of the aforementioned empirical research, conduct-
ed during the development process, does reveal some important contraindi-
cators that may go some way to addressing this question. Undoubtedly, there
is much agreement that the CI in its current (enhanced) form is a superior
interview procedure, in terms of witness memorial performance outcomes
compared with a SI. However, leaving this fact aside, it does take longer to
conduct, and it is well-documented that police officers experience consider-
able time constraints while on duty. Equally, it is acknowledged, that the CI
makes extensive cognitive demands on the interviewer (e.g. Fisher et al.,
1987). For example, there are increased demands on working memory,
whereby the interviewer has to store questions until an appropriate time so
as not to interrupt the witness while listening attentively in order to under-
stand each witness’s organization of knowledge. Further, any pre-established
sequencing of questions has to be abandoned; thus, the interviewer is
required to display considerable flexibility. In addition, the CI is viewed by
some police interviewers as a time-consuming and bulky procedure that is
not always appropriate, especially for less-serious crime.
162 Applied Criminal Psychology

Equally, the type of training provided may also account, albeit in part, for
the apparently patchy application of the CI. For example, in the United
Kingdom, police officers are initially taught the CI during a one-week inter-
view training course. This course combines the teaching of both suspect and
witness interview techniques. Thus, the average amount of time spent teach-
ing officers to apply the CI is just two days. It may be that this is not long
enough. Certainly, recent research has indicated that officers believe the
training to be insufficient to equip them with the skills necessary to confi-
dently apply the procedure (Dando et al., 2008). This was borne out by the
findings of research, conducted with novice police officers immediately post
training (Dando, Wilcock & Milne, in press), which found that no officer
applied or attempted to apply the procedure in its entirety. That said, many
of the individual components were applied or attempted, indicating that offi-
cers had acquired some CI interview skills. Indeed, research has long indi-
cated that CI training should be separate from suspect interview training,
rather than combined (e.g. Clifford & George, 1996), because this has been
found to be more effective in terms of officers’ application of the procedure
post training.
In sum it appears that there are many factors associated with the practical
application of the CI procedure that seem to constrain its forensic applica-
tion. Furthermore, these factors are both complex and interlinked. This is
both unfortunate and of concern. It is of concern because, if incorrectly
applied, the CI has the potential to hinder and even interfere with witness
memorial performance; something the CI was designed to counter. It is un-
fortunate, because a great deal of time and money has been invested by the
relevant government departments (i.e. Home Office) in the United Kingdom
and many other countries since the early 1990s to ensure that the shortcom-
ings associated with witness interviewing, as introduced earlier in this chap-
ter, are addressed.
On a positive note, witness interviewing in the United Kingdom has, un-
doubtedly, improved since the implementation of the investigative interview
model in the early 1990s. However, it is accepted that there is still room for
improvement. Witness interviews have recently been highlighted as possible
information leakage points along the investigative trail (ACPO, 2004), and it
may be that simply ensuring that officers correctly and fully apply the CI
procedure may go some way to reducing this information leakage.
In response to the findings of the aforementioned national evaluation of
investigative interviewing in the United Kingdom (Clarke & Milne, 2001)
and the resultant recommendations made by the second author of this chap-
ter, ACPO is currently introducing a tiered approach to CI training (for
more on tiers see Griffiths & Milne, 2005; Milne & Bull, in press). The CI pro-
cedure is now being taught to police officers using a building block approach
 Cognitive Interviewing 163

within a tiered interview training framework ranging from Tier 1 to Tier 5.

All police officers in England and Wales now commence their police career
as a Tier 1 CI interviewer. They are taught a basic CI procedure that is com-
mensurate not only with their limited experience and training but also with
the types of witness interviews they conduct (i.e. with the witnesses of less
serious crime). Should their duties and interviewing competency warrant it,
officers are then able to undertake further training and can progress through
the tiers, ultimately becoming a Tier 5 interview advisor (Tier 5 interviewers
being the most trained and most skilled interview strategists).
There is also a considerable amount of research, currently being conduct-
ed, surrounding various modifications of the CI and its constituent compo-
nents. This research is attempting to address some of the problems formerly
introduced (particularly the cognitive demands the process makes of the
interviewer) while retaining its superiority. For example, both of the authors
of this chapter are involved in investigating how the CI might be adapted to
form a short CI/frontline CI specifically for some of the least-experienced
and least-trained police officers (who conduct a vast amount of witness inter-
views, often on a daily basis) and for situations in which police officers are
under severe time constraints (e.g. Dando, Wilcock & Milne 2007; Dando,
Wilcock, Milne, & Henry, 2007). Equally, much research is also being con-
ducted concerning the suitability of the CI for use by the Criminal Law
Solicitor’s Association (Davis, 1997) and the U.K. National Health Service
and as a method of enhancing group decision making in business (Fisher &
Castano, 2007).

CONCLUSION

This chapter commenced by outlining the importance of the witness inter-

view situation in terms of its being the primary method used by police offi-
cers to collect witness information. The cognitive interview has been de-
scribed, as has the relevant theory and research pertaining to the develop-
ment process. Having been adopted for use by many police forces across the
world the CI represents, arguably, the most successful example of the mar-
rying of psychological theory and research to the practical world. This is
especially the case in the United Kingdom, where it underpins the current
witness interview model and is taught to all police officers. Certainly, there
are some problems associated with its forensic application, and these prob-
lems have been introduced and briefly discussed. That said, progress con-
tinues to be made concerning how best to ensure that the CI procedure is as
user friendly as possible for all police investigators, irrespective of experi-
ence or the interview situation. However, these problems should not detract
164 Applied Criminal Psychology

the reader from the fact that, to date, the CI is one of the most influential
methods for improving witness memorial performance.

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 Chapter Eight

FORENSIC HYPNOSIS
JOHN W. THOMPSON, J R., AND ALAN W. N EWMAN

T hroughout history, criminal cases have been solved using a plethora of

methods, including the collection of forensic evidence, confessions, cap-
ture, and eyewitness accounts. When hard evidence is not available, other
more novel techniques may be sought. Hypnosis has been used for many
years to attempt to enhance witness and victim memories and assist in solv-
ing crimes (Reiser, 1980). This chapter will discuss the evolution of hypnosis
as a technique to obtain legal information or to enhance memory. The school
of thought that led to the rise in hypnosis in the 1960s and 1970s in the
United States will also be discussed. Finally, the chapter will discuss why the
abuse of hypnosis in the United States’ legal system has led to strict guide-
lines regarding its limited use in criminal cases. Lack of compliance with
these guidelines may lead to Daubert-type challenges of experts in court
(Moenssens, Starrs, Henderson & Inbau, 1995).

HYPNOSIS OVERVIEW

Hypnosis can be defined as that state or condition in which an individual

is able to respond to appropriate suggestions by experiencing alterations of
perception, memory, or mood (Orne & Dinges, 1993). Hypnosis has been
used as a method of treating a variety of psychiatric conditions since the
early 1800s and was pivotal in the early work of many noted psychiatrists
(Wong, 1993). The role that suggestion plays in the hypnotic phenomenon
was studied by Hippolyte Bernheim, who used hypnosis with many of his
patients as a means of suggesting that pathological symptoms would cease to
be problems (Bernheim, 1973). Bernheim’s observations differed from those

169
170 Applied Criminal Psychology

of Jean Charcot, who viewed the ability to be hypnotized as evidence of neu-

ropathology in patients with hysteria (Bernheim, 1973). Sigmund Freud and
Josef Breuer utilized hypnosis not as a method of suggesting that symptoms
resolve but as a way of accessing traumatic early life events that they per-
ceived to be at the root of the patient’s problems (Bernheim, 1973; Wong,
1993). Although Freud abandoned the use of hypnosis by 1896 for other
methods, hypnosis was instrumental in shaping his beliefs that hysterical
phenomena were due to trauma, thinking that eventually led to his views on
repression. Hypnosis has since been applied to the treatment of numerous
psychiatric problems and has been recognized as a therapeutic modality by
the American Medical Association since 1958 (American Medical Associa-
tion, 1986).

USES OF HYPNOSIS IN FORENSIC INVESTIGATIONS

The free recall of memories may be hampered by the stress or anxiety

associated with being a witness of a crime. An eyewitness of a murder may
feel extremely anxious when reporting the details of a crime. An assault vic-
tim may also be unable to provide important details that would lead to the
solution of a crime secondary to feelings of panic or posttraumatic stress.
Memory problems may also affect those accused of a crime, who may have
difficulty remembering details that could exonerate them or provide miti-
gating factors helpful in their defense (Orne, 1979). Police have long been
thwarted by faulty leads by poor witnesses, and the absence of reliable wit-
nesses has led to many unsolved cases. This problem, which Hibbard calls
the nemesis of the law enforcement officer, creates a demand for better ways
of improving eyewitness recall (Hibbard & Worring, 1980). Hypnosis was
one method to address this problem that gained increased popularity in the
1960s and 1970s.
Despite claims that hypnosis is effective in improving memory, the exact
mechanism of how this actually occurs is unclear. Although some think that
hypnosis simply relaxes a witness in order to enhance his or her ability to
report events, others view that hypnosis somehow allows for the recovery of
memories that have been repressed by trauma (Loftus & Loftus, 1980;
Monaghan, 1980; Reiser, 1980).
There are three common uses of hypnosis in a criminal investigation. One
use of hypnosis is to enhance the memory of an accused defendant in a crim-
inal case about events surrounding the crime. Although hypnosis may be
used by the defense team to generate evidence to help exculpate their client,
it could also be used by the police or prosecutors to generate evidence that
would lead to a conviction. Second, hypnosis could also be used with eye-
 Forensic Hypnosis 171

witnesses to allow them to provide details concerning the behavior or phys-

ical appearance of a perpetrator. This might be done in anticipation of view-
ing a police lineup or in assisting a police sketch artist. A third use of hyp-
nosis would be to assist in the generation of leads for forensic investigators.
In the third example just mentioned, physical evidence independent from
the information recalled under hypnosis can be obtained and evaluated on
its own merit, whereas the information generated by hypnosis in the first two
cases replaces the evidence. If hypnosis is not a valid method of obtaining
consistent and accurate memories, the usefulness of eyewitness information
generated by hypnosis is highly suspect. The fact that individual cases have
been solved by the discovery of investigatory leads associated with the use of
hypnosis does not necessarily mean that hypnosis is a valid and consistent
method of obtaining evidence.1

Advocates of Hypnosis in Criminal Investigations

Several guidebooks have been written with the goal of providing detailed
instruction and theory to police investigators for their use of hypnosis as an
aid to criminal investigations (Gerber & Schroeder, 1972; Hibbard &
Worring, 1980; Monaghan, 1980). Many of these guidebooks were written by
police investigators and hypnotists who based their views on experiences
accumulated in investigations over many years (Hibbard & Warring, 1880;
Reiser, 1980). These police-oriented writers cite numerous examples of the
usefulness of hypnosis as a tool for investigation. Hibbard cited studies from
the Los Angeles Police Department and the New York Police Department
from the late 1970s, suggesting that hypnosis provided valuable new infor-
mation more than 65 percent of the time (Hibbard & Warring, 1880). The
rapid dissemination of hypnosis in police investigations in the 1960s led to
widespread use in many courts of law, with many convictions resulting from
eyewitness memory recovered with hypnosis (Loftus, 1979).
A consistent theme found throughout these guides is the view that all
memories are stored intact in the brain but are frequently inaccessible due to
repression. Hypnosis is offered as a way to lift the repression in order to
access these memories. Martin Reiser (1980), Director of Behavioral Sciences
Services for the Los Angeles Police Department, illustrates this view in the
Handbook of Investigative Hypnosis:
The subconscious mind is alert and on duty 24 hours a day, seven days a week; it
never sleeps. . . . Cheek’s work in recovering memories around the birth experience
suggests that both pre and perinatal experiences are recorded reflexively by the
active subconscious of the baby. (Reiser, 1980, p. 11)

1. For example, psychics have been used by police to solve crimes. Although some crimes
have reportedly been solved after the use of psychics, there has been no demonstrated scien-
tific evidence that psychic powers should be constituted as evidence (Randi, 1996).
172 Applied Criminal Psychology

Reiser considers the cause of poor memory in eyewitnesses to be due to

repression and dissociation which functions to ward off emotionally disturb-
ing memories (Reiser, 1980) Monaghan also shows belief in the view that
memory is recorded intact:
Theoretically, human memory is perfect. The infallibility of memory is demonstrat-
ed over and over by facts revealed through hypnotic age regression. . . . Amnesias
represent a separation between conscious and unconscious, and a failure in commu-
nications between the two. (Monaghan, 1980, p. 52)

Furthermore, Hibbard and Worring state:

most authorities on hypnosis and researchers of human behavior believe that every-
thing a human being takes in through the five senses is permanently recorded in the
brain . . . [and] these experts also agree, however, that this stored information can
largely and accurately be retrieved through hypnosis. (Hibbard & Worring, 1980)

The reported causal link between repression and amnesia in crime eye-
witnesses is a consistent theme in these manuals (Bragin, 1981; Hibbard &
Worring, 1980; O’Hara & O’Hara, 1994). Some of these views are consistent
with contemporaneous psychoanalytic literature on repression. Infantile
amnesia, as described in the American Psychoanalytic Association’s Psycho-
analytic Terms and Concepts (Moore & Fine, 1990), represents the ego’s defen-
sive effort to deal with early life events and reactions that would otherwise
be traumatic. Through the process of repression, events, ideas, and affects
involved in such experiences become unconscious (Moore & Fine, 1990).
Rather than the lack of memory of childhood events being due to an imma-
ture nervous system or ordinary forgetting, the American Psychoanalytic
Association says:
Though it is often thought of as normal forgetting attributable to the immaturity of
the child’s mind, infantile amnesia represents the ego’s defensive effort to deal with
early-life events and reactions that would otherwise be traumatic. (Moore & Fine,
1990, p. 13)

The psychoanalytic literature also supports the view that memories of

traumas sustained during adulthood can also be lost due to the effect of
repression. According to Wolberg:
. . . even in adulthood, intensely traumatic experiences may shock the organism into
a revival of the mechanism of repression. This move is motivated by a need to ward
off a threat to the self. There are no better examples of this than those seen in the
neuroses of war in which traumatic incidents may be blotted from the mind.
(Wolberg, 1988, p. 739)

Hypnosis is listed as one of several methods that can be used to recover such
memories (Wolberg, 1975, 1988).
There are some important differences between the psychoanalytic litera-
ture reviewed and the claims made in the works by and for police investiga-
 Forensic Hypnosis 173

tors. Although the police guides are very definitive in their views on repres-
sion and the use of hypnosis to lift it (Monaghan, 1980), Wolberg notes that:
It is essential not to take memories and experiences recounted in the trance at face
value. The productions elaborated by a person during hypnosis generally are a
fusion of real experiences and fantasies, (Wolberg, 1975, p. 247).

This blend of fact and fantasy may not be as much a concern in a thera-
peutic context, where “we are more concerned with a patient’s ideas about
his past rather than what actually happened in the past” but could pose dan-
gers when used to uncover the truth, as would be desired in a forensic set-
ting (Wolberg, 1988). Despite these differences, the reviewed works for po-
lice investigators clearly intend to frame their works in the context of psy-
choanalytic theory.
In addition to citing psychoanalytic theories of repression, many advo-
cates of the view that all memories are stored permanently in the brain cite
the works of neurosurgeon Wilder Penfield (Hibbard & Worring, 1980;
Loftus & Loftus, 1980). Penfield was a neurosurgeon who specialized in
removing damaged areas in the brains of epileptic patients. During stimula-
tion of brain areas with an electrode, Penfield observed that certain types of
stimulation caused patients to hear voices and song, and even to experience
the sensation of reexperiencing a past event (Loftus & Loftus, 1980). Penfield
described the process as follows:
When, by chance, the neurosurgeon’s electrode activates past experience, that expe-
rience unfolds progressively, moment by moment. This is a little like the perfor-
mance of a wire recorder or a strip of cinematographic film on which are registered
all those things of which the individual was once aware, the things he selected for his
attention in that interval of time. Absent from it are the sensations he ignored, the
talk he did not heed. (Penfield & Roberts, 1959, p. 53)

Penfield believed that every detail in awareness left a permanent mark on the
brain, and his work was widely cited in psychology textbooks and the media,
leading to what has been called the videorecorder model of memory (Loftus
& Loftus, 1980).
Survey research by Elizabeth Loftus in the late 1970s gives evidence of the
widespread acceptance of the videorecorder model view of memory during
that time (Loftus & Loftus, 1980). This survey showed that 69 percent of
nonpsychologists believed that everything learned is stored in the mind and
potentially accessible by hypnosis while 23 percent supported the view that
some memories may be permanently lost from memory and not recoverable
by special techniques. Interestingly, 84 percent of psychologists who were
given the same survey believed that all information is stored in long-term
memory. Loftus noted that many of the psychologists surveyed told her that
their views on memory were shaped by knowledge of Penfield’s work, as
well as their views on memory recovered by analysis, hypnosis, and other
therapeutic techniques (Loftus & Loftus, 1980).
174 Applied Criminal Psychology

Methods Used by Police Investigators

Two predominant techniques are described in the police literature to help

obtain memories: the age-regression technique and hypermnesia by direct
suggestion technique (Orne, 1979). Orne describes age-regression as the most
common technique used in hypnosis. Using this method, the hypnotist
induces hypnosis and suggests that the subject will return to an earlier age.
Monaghan demonstrates this technique as follows:
The next time I speak to you, you will be at a very happy time and place, and you
will be four-years-old. You are going back to a time and place when you were four-
years-old. You will be able to tell me everything that you see and hear, without inter-
fering in any way with your recall or your relaxation. (Monaghan, 1980, p. 51)

In the case of age-regression for crime witnesses, the regression goes back to
the time that the crime occurred.
One technique used as an adjunct during age-regression is the television
technique. Reiser describes this technique in the following way:
While the subject views the crime event on the imaginary television screen during
the TV technique, the hypnoinvestigator, as desired, can suggest that the film will go
into slow motion, stop completely or reverse. The subject can also be told that when
the camera zooms in on the suspect’s face, the frame will freeze and although there
was originally only a short time to look at the suspect, there will now be all the time
in the world to look at the close-up on TV and to describe every feature very vivid-
ly, and accurately. (Reiser, 1980, p. 117)

This technique, acording to Reiser, is particularly useful in obtaining details

from street signs, license plates, and other factual information.
In addition to age-regression, another technique involves hypermnesia
(enhanced memory) by direct suggestions. With this technique, the hypnotist
gives the subject a direct suggestion to do something to enhance the memo-
ry. A frequent suggestion given to the subject is that he or she will remember
what was discussed during hypnosis upon awakening (Orne, 1979; Tayloe,
1995). This particular suggestion is quite relevant. If details can only be
recalled while the subject is under hypnosis and forgotten when awake, the
ability of the subject to testify on the memory is limited.
Although Hibbard provides warnings to police investigators about possi-
ble pitfalls in administering hypnosis in an investigatory setting, few of the
guides for police investigators list potential hazards, despite a growing body
of evidence of problems that can arise when recovering memories with hyp-
nosis (Hibbard & Worring, 1980).
 Forensic Hypnosis 175

HYPNOTIC MEMORY THEORY

Constructive Model of Memory

As discussed earlier, advocates for forensic hypnosis utilize two major
techniques: age-regression and direct suggestion. The age-regression tech-
nique, particularly when used with the imagery of watching a TV and being
able to go into slow motion, stop completely, or reverse, strongly suggests the
idea that memory is indeed like a videorecorder (Reiser, 1980). Orne and
others have directly challenged this model of memory (Orne, 1979).
In reference to age-regression, Orne notes that the appearance of regres-
sion does not guarantee that actual regression is occurring. One study done
by Orne and colleagues involved the regression of a group to elementary
school age. Orne noted that when the information obtained by the regres-
sions was checked with verifiable data, some interesting findings were
noticed:
The subjects would describe their classmates so vividly and with such conviction that
we were surprised indeed to find, when we went to the trouble of checking the actu-
al school records, that some of these individuals had not been members of the sub-
ject’s class; nor was the factual recall better than that of unhypnotized controls.
(Orne, 1979, p. 317)

Orne warns that questioning about specific details (such as when subjects are
told to freeze on an image as if they are watching a TV) puts pressure on the
subject to provide information for which few, if any, actual memories are
available. This situation may jog the subject’s memory and produce some
increased recall, but it will also cause him or her to fill in details that are plau-
sible but consist of memories or fantasies from other times (Orne, 1979). This
can be likened to confabulation in the alcoholic patient with short-term
memory loss. Laurence reports that if an individual is asked to zoom in on
an image that, in the original experience, the retina could not resolve, there
is no other source but fantasy for enhanced detail (Laurence & Perry, 1983).
This task requires the subject to see something beyond his or her capacity
and is a powerful and indirect suggestion to hallucinate.
Fantasy may not be the only source of recovered detail. Orne warns that
when the subject is given guided instructions during this kind of questioning,
such a procedure maximizes the potential input of the hypnotist about what
is wanted, making it even more likely that the subject’s memories will more
closely resemble the hypnotist’s prior conceptions than would ordinarily be
the case (Orne, 1979). Although acknowledging the success of using this tech-
nique to recall license plate numbers, Orne notes that many license plate
numbers recalled under hypnosis have led to cars that could not have been
involved in the alleged crime.
176 Applied Criminal Psychology

The Videotape Model of Memory Refuted

In addition to providing evidence supporting a constructive view of mem-
ory, memory researchers have challenged some of the conclusions derived
by supporters of the videotape model of memory. As discussed before, the
primary evidence supporting the videotape model includes the psychoana-
lytic theory of repression, case studies of memory recovered by therapeutic
techniques (like hypnosis and analysis), spontaneous recovery of memories,
and the experiments of Wilder Penfield (Penfield & Roberts, 1959).
Despite the vividness of memories recovered via analysis, hypnosis, or
spontaneous recall, it does not necessarily follow that memories retrieved by
these methods provide evidence of the permanent storage of memory. A
question rarely asked by the proponents of the videotape model is “Did the
event in the memory actually occur?” In the absence of independent cor-
roboration of the memories reported, a report of a memory does not provide
proof that the memory is an accurate depiction of truth, or that it even
occurred (Loftus, 1993). Therefore, even when independent corroboration is
available, that does not prove that what is described by the patient is an actu-
al memory. Additionally, even if it can be shown that a specific recovered
memory is accurate, it does not prove that: (1) every memory from birth to
death is recorded in the brain and (2) these memories can accurately be
recovered by psychiatric techniques.
The view that memories from birth are stored in the brain and are recov-
erable is mentioned in many texts written for police investigators and has
been advocated by some recovered memory therapists (Frontline, 1995;
Monaghan, 1980; Reiser, 1980). For example, a Frontline documentary de-
monstrated scenes from actual age-regression sessions, where one client was
regressed all the way to a previous life, and another client was regressed to a
preimplantation embryo, where she allegedly was temporarily stuck in the
fallopian tube, causing her future psychiatric problems (Frontline, 1995).
From a scientific perspective, the view that one could have memories from a
stage in development during which there is no nervous system appears un-
tenable, and the concept of past lives is simply untestable by scientific meth-
ods. This exposes a major problem with some of the thinking of exact-copy
memory advocates: If one assumes that the memories recovered from past
lives or prenatal development are invalid, how can we rely on the validity of
memories obtained when the same age-regression techniques are used for
other purposes, such as recovering memories in crime witnesses?
Another problem with the videorecorder view of memory is its reliance
on untestable psychoanalytic concepts. Many proponents of the video-
recorder model note that their views are supported by the theory of repres-
sion. Consistency with the theory of repression, however, hardly proves the
 Forensic Hypnosis 177

claims of the videorecorder model unless there is better evidence that repres-
sion itself is a valid concept. One criticism of the scientific status of repres-
sion is that:
. . . despite some incredibly innovative attempts, the psychoanalytic defense mecha-
nism of repression has never been clearly proven in the laboratory. In addition, there
are those who believe that it cannot be. Most psychoanalytic notions are generally
unfalsifiable. That is, no scientific evidence can clearly refute or prove the existence
of repression. Given the definition of repression as forgetting without conscious
knowledge that the material is forgotten, laboratory proof of the phenomenon is like-
ly impossible. It is also difficult to imagine an experiment that could provide con-
clusive proof of repression. (Earleywine & Gann, 1995, p. 1101)

Although the psychoanalytic theory is accepted in many clinical settings,

numerous problems occur when attempting to find scientific evidence to sup-
port these concepts.
Unlike the reliance on unverifiable case studies and theories of repression,
Penfield’s experiments on electrically stimulated brains appeared to some to
provide strong evidence for the permanent storage of memories. Loftus’
review of his data, however, challenges this conclusion (Loftus & Loftus,
1980). She notes that no attempts were made by Penfield to corroborate any
of the memories with verifiable events, and only 3 percent of his patients
who underwent electrical stimulation experienced phenomena more com-
plex than hearing music or voices or seeing a familiar face or object. Loftus
and others conclude that the experiences are more consistent with recon-
structed experiences, such as dreams (Loftus & Loftus, 1980).
It is important to remember that Penfield’s studies were on patients with
tumors and epilepsy, especially since the phenomena that Penfield described
sound suspiciously similar to the hallucinations experienced by many pa-
tients with partial complex seizures. According to neurologist David Kauf-
man:
tumors, strokes, and other structural lesions can produce partial elementary, frontal
lobe, or complex seizures with visual symptoms. These hallucinations are seen in
both eyes and can even appear in an hemianopic area. They range from simple geo-
metric forms in partial simple seizures to detailed visions accompanied by sounds,
thoughts, emotions, and characteristically, impairment of consciousness in partial
complex seizures. (Kaufman, 1995)

The view that Penfield might be inducing hallucinatory phenomena is not

entertained in his works or by advocates of his theories. The evidence that
Penfield’s work demonstrates the permanent storage of memories in the
brain remains unpersuasive.
178 Applied Criminal Psychology

CRITICISM AND CONCERNS ABOUT FORENSIC HYPNOSIS

Despite the widespread use of hypnosis to solve crimes and prosecute

cases in the 1970s, concerns about the problems of using hypnosis for find-
ing the truth are hardly new. The ability of hypnosis to suggest false memo-
ries was recognized by Bernheim in the ninteenth century; he referred to the
phenomenon as a retroactive hallucination (Bernheim, 1973).
Wong (1993) notes that Freud utilized hypnosis in his early practice but
abandoned it as a temporary fix that frequently encouraged acting out to
please the hypnotist. Controlled experiments as early as 1932 demonstrated
that hypnotized subjects had an increase in the number of memories report-
ed, both accurate and confabulated, than did nonhypnotized subjects (Orne,
1979).
In part due to concerns generated by the increased use of hypnosis in
forensic settings in the 1960s, there was a marked increase in the amount of
scrutiny given the claims promoted by advocates of hypnosis for memory
enhancement. During the 1970s, a considerable body of research was per-
formed that provided evidence that the effect of hypnosis on memory is sub-
stantially different from what was previously thought (Loftus & Loftus, 1980;
Orne, 1979; Putnam, 1979).
The view of memory postulated by many police investigators, advocates
of the concept of repression, and others has been given a variety of names,
including the videotape model, the exact copy theory, or the implicit theory
of memory (Loftus & Loftus, 1980; Putnam, 1979). This view suggests not
only that all information is stored permanently in the brain but also that sub-
sequent information coexists with but does not alter the original memories.
In contrast to the videorecorder model of memory, some memory re-
searchers have postulated that, rather than working like a videorecorder,
memories are stored in a manner that allows them to be reconstructed at a
later time (Putnam, 1979). This model, which implies that memories can be
altered by a variety of factors subsequent to the original memory, is sup-
ported by a considerable body of research.
Several concerns can be raised about the use of suggestions by the hyp-
notist. The most obvious is that being told to provide details when none are
present may lead to confabulation by the subject (Orne, 1979). Furthermore,
the amount of knowledge the hypnotist has about the case can affect the sub-
ject in a variety of ways. Putnam’s studies on subjects who were hypnotized
after viewing an accident involving a car and a bicycle showed that although
there was no difference between hypnotized and nonhypnotized subjects in
answering objective, nonleading questions, hypnotized subjects were signifi-
cantly more likely to make errors when given leading questions (Putnam,
1979). Loftus reports many studies showing how the wording of questions,
 Forensic Hypnosis 179

even in nonhypnotized subjects, makes a large difference in what kind of

answer is obtained from the subject (Loftus, 1979).
The risk of leading questions is particularly high when the hypnotist is the
investigator and is aware of the details of an alleged case (New Jersey v. Hurd,
1980). In some documented cases, the hypnotist suggested distinguishing fea-
tures of the prime suspect or asked if specific suspects were present (Kirk-
wood, 1968; Loftus, 1979; New Jersey v. Hurd, 1980).
The hypnotist may use suggestions to accomplish other goals. For exam-
ple, one hypnotist recommends suggesting that the subject will confess if he
is guilty (Bragin, 1981). While acknowledging that most courts do not admit
confessions made during hypnosis, Bragin sees no problem with a confession
that occurs once the hypnotic session has ended (Bragin, 1981). He recom-
mends a posthypnotic suggestion that intimates that bad feelings will result if
the subject keeps the crime to himself, and good feelings will result if the sub-
ject “lets it out” (i.e. confesses). Bragin does not discuss the effect such a sug-
gestion would have on the defendant’s Fifth Amendment rights or the dan-
ger such a suggestion could play on an innocent defendant, particularly if
administered by a police hypnotist who might have preconceived views
about the subject’s guilt.
Other research on hypnosis exposes its potential dangers when used in an
investigative setting. Orne summarizes these dangers as follows:
Hypnosis has no utility to assure the truthfulness of statements since, particularly in
a forensic context, subjects may simulate hypnosis and are able to willfully lie even
in deep hypnosis; most troublesome, actual memories cannot be distinguished from
confabulations either by the subject or by the hypnotist without full and independent
corroboration. (Orne, 1979, p. 311)

Orne further adds that:

. . . hypnosis may readily cause the subject to confabulate the person who is
suspected into his hypnotically enhanced memories. These pseudomemo-
ries, originally developed in hypnosis, may come to be accepted by the sub-
ject as his actual recall of the original events; they are then remembered
with great subjective certainty and reported with conviction. Such circum-
stances can create convincing, apparently objective eyewitnesses rather than
facilitating actual recall. (Orne, 1979, p. 311)
This belief in the certainty of pseudomemories was reinforced by the
research findings of Laurence, who implanted false memories of having been
awakened by loud noises in thirteen of twenty-seven highly hypnotizable
subjects (Laurence & Perry, 1983). Six of these thirteen subjects were
absolutely certain that the suggested event occurred. This phenomenon,
warned psychiatrist David Spiegel, could lead to the creation of the “honest
liar,” a witness who asserts pseudomemories as truth in the courtroom (Orne,
Dinges & Orne, 1990).
180 Applied Criminal Psychology

Given the previous arguments, it can be demonstrated that hypnosis,

although testable, is not a reliable and valid method of obtaining information
from witnesses or refreshing witness testimony.

REBUTTALS TO RESEARCH FINDINGS ON HYPNOSIS

After the increase in scientific evidence challenging the validity of hyp-

notically recovered memories and the subsequent investigative guidelines
and court changes that followed, some proponents of forensic hypnosis
offered rebuttals. These rebuttals typically followed two patterns: (1) criti-
cism of the generalization of laboratory experiments to actual patients and
(2) a reliance on case studies demonstrating the usefulness of forensic hyp-
nosis in solving cases.

Criticism of Research Findings

Butler and Spiegel (1997) list several criticisms that can be applied to most
of the research studies on hypnosis and memory. For example, (1) laborato-
ry events used in memory research tend to be artificial (slides, movies, staged
events) and might not affect the subjects the same way that a real event
would. (2) Laboratory events are intrinsically nontraumatic. Traumatic
events may affect memory differently than nontraumatic events do. (3)
Laboratory studies of memory tend to test memory hours to days after the
initial stimulus, not years as frequently occurs in many real-life cases. (4)
Many of the laboratory studies, especially those using college students as
subjects, rely on a young and well-educated population that may not direct-
ly generalize to the population at-large (Butler & Spiegel, 1997).
Hibbard acknowledges Loftus’ findings concerning evidence that leading
or suggestive questions decrease the accuracy of memory and convince a wit-
ness of the truthfulness of his or her memories, but he makes the interesting
comment that by “regressing the witnesses or victim to the crime event he
neutralizes, bypasses, or obviates any memory alteration or contamination
subsequent to the event” (Hibbard & Worring, 1980). His view provides a
good illustration of the belief that memories are laid down chronologically
like recordings on a videotape, where even if contamination occurs in the
future, age-regression can simply “rewind the tape” to a point in time before
the contamination occurred. This view, unsupported by any cited evidence,
assumes that age-regression produces unaltered, uncontaminated memories
and does not consider the possibility that it is precisely during the age-regres-
sion that memory can be altered by suggestion (Putnam, 1979).
 Forensic Hypnosis 181

Case Studies Promoting the Usefulness of Forensic Hypnosis

Even when advocates for the liberal use of forensic hypnosis concede
some of the findings discovered in a research setting, they frequently argue
that evidence from case studies provides proof of the concept of repression
and demonstrates the usefulness of forensic hypnosis. Tayloe (1995), a psy-
chiatrist who practices forensic hypnosis for the courts, provides evidence of
this thinking. Tayloe notes that with forensic hypnosis the critical question is
whether or not the concept of repressed memories is valid, and if the mem-
ories are valid, can they be accurately recalled through hypnosis. His
"proof" is found in the statement: “That psychologically traumatic events can
be repressed from conscious recall is incontrovertible. The weight of case
histories describing verifiable repression is too heavy to support any other
conclusions” (Tayloe, 1995, p. 26). Unfortunately, one case he cites is the
George Franklin murder trial, a case that readily lends itself to a conclusion
opposite to that of Tayloe’s.2 Tayloe also provided an example of a man he
hypnotized who had no memory of shooting himself and killing his wife.
During the hypnotic session, Tayloe told the subject (Mr. Bains), “You will be
able to remember any of this story that is helpful to you, but will be unable
to remember anything that is not helpful or would be harmful to you”
(Tayloe, 1995, p. 28).
Although this did not resolve the subject’s amnesia, Tayloe later “success-
fully” age-regressed the subject with hypnosis, and he then testified that the
death of the wife was an accidental shooting. Tayloe concluded that since
some of the details of the subject's recovered memories were consistent with
physical evidence at the scene, the case provided evidence of the validity of
hypnotically recovered memories.
Unfortunately, Dr. Tayloe did not consider another possibility: The fact
that the subject reported details consistent with the physical evidence at the
scene may have been because he never forgot them; in other words, his
amnesia may have simply been malingering. The memory “recovered” by
hypnosis just happened to be one that helped exculpate the defendant of a
first-degree murder charge. Rather than questioning whether malingering
was the cause of the alleged memory loss, Tayloe believed that the amnesia
was genuine because “in this case, the setting lends credence to the creation
of amnesia as a defense mechanism against severe emotional trauma. Mrs.

2. George Franklin was convicted of murder in 1990 solely on the basis of testimony by his
daughter Eileen, who alleged her memories of seeing the crime were repressed for more than
twenty years (Loftus, 1993). The jury was impressed by the detailed nature of Eileen’s mem-
ory, but the case was overturned on appeal on the grounds that the trial judge refused to admit
evidence that the verifiable details Eileen provided were in fact available in newspaper
accounts of the crime (Skeptic, 1996). Eileen, who underwent hypnosis to recover memories,
also “remembered” other crimes allegedly committed by her father, for which he was ulti-
mately cleared.
182 Applied Criminal Psychology

Bain’s death was an accident without premeditation or financial gain” (Tay-

loe, 1995). This explanation, however, is directly contradicted by Tayloe’s
own report that immediately before the killing Mr. Bains, who had suspect-
ed his wife of being unfaithful, had just seen his wife in her car with a male
friend.
Mutter (1990) also challenges the results of memory research by citing
cases in which hypnosis was perceived to be useful in investigations. Like
Tayloe, Mutter’s case examples ignore the possibility of malingering or other
explanations.3 The role of the expert is particularly relevant in this context.
If one can lie under hypnosis, the defendant can not only feign amnesia for
certain details but also recover an exculpatory explanation that might not be
believed if offered by the defendant but will be believed if pronounced as
accurate by a forensic expert.
Some problems with relying on case studies are that (1) it is difficult to gen-
eralize from individual instances, (2) cases are rarely validated with physical
evidence supporting the claims made by the subject, and (3) cases involving
memories are not controlled; therefore, it is not possible to know if the sub-
ject would have recalled the repressed memory with a different technique or
spontaneously. It is impossible to know the qualitative differences between
memories recalled by hypnosis and memories recalled by other techniques
because each patient has different life experiences, and once memories are
recovered by one method, it is impossible to take the patient back in time to
his or her previous amnestic state and compare the different methods for
accuracy.

GUIDELINES AND WARNINGS ON THE USE OF FORENSIC

HYPNOSIS

As a consequence of concerns about the dangers associated with the lib-

eral use of hypnosis in legal settings, several official statements were issued.
The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) revised its 1968 guidelines on hyp-
nosis in 1979, requiring authorization to use hypnosis in FBI cases and man-
dating that certain safeguards be in place, including the recording of hyp-
notic sessions (Ault, 1979). The International Society of Hypnosis and the
Society for Clinical and Experimental Hypnosis issued identical statements

3. The a priori belief in the validity of repression is a common theme in rebuttals to the
research findings. Watkins (1989) demonstrates this faith in the validity of repression, saying
“the forensic examiner, unlike a researcher, must often lift a psychogenic amnesia for a trau-
matic event before hypermnesia takes place.” Although critical of laboratory methods exam-
ining memory, Watkins makes no attempt to examine evidence supporting the concept of
“psychogenic amnesia” or “repression.”
 Forensic Hypnosis 183

acknowledging alarm at the increase in the use of hypnosis by laypeople,

particularly police officers using hypnosis as a part of a police investigation
(International Society of Hypnosis, 1979). These resolutions acknowledged
the dangers of accepting statements made under hypnosis at face value and
warned of the effect that police biases can have on the memories of hypno-
tized subjects.
Orne formulated his own guidelines, which had a profound influence on
the courts and contributed to the recommendations ultimately promulgated
by the American Medical Association’s Council of Scientific Affairs (Ameri-
can Medical Association, 1986; New Jersey v. Hurd, 1980; Orne, 1979). These
guidelines are summarized as follows:
1. Hypnosis should be carried out by a psychiatrist or psychologist with
special training in its use. He should not be informed about the facts
of the case verbally; rather, he should receive a written memorandum
outlining whatever facts he is to know, carefully avoiding any other
communication which might affect this opinion.
2. All contact of the psychiatrist or psychologist with the individual to be
hypnotized should be videotaped from the moment they meet until
the entire interaction is completed. The casual comments that are
passed before or after hypnosis are every bit as important to get on
tape as the hypnotic session itself. . . . Prior to the induction of hypno-
sis, a brief evaluation of the patient should be carried out and the psy-
chiatrist or psychologist should then elicit a detailed description of the
facts as the witness or victim remembers them. . . . Only after this has
been completed should the hypnotic session be initiated. The psychi-
atrist or psychologist should strive to avoid adding any new elements
to the witness’s description of his experience, including those that he
had discussed in his wake state, lest he inadvertently alter the nature
of the witness’s memories.
3. No one other than the psychiatrist or psychologist and the individual
to be hypnotized should be present in the room before and during the
hypnotic session. . . .
4. Because the interactions that have preceded the hypnotic session may
well have a profound effect on the sessions themselves, tape record-
ings of prior interrogations are important to document that a witness
has not been implicitly or explicitly cued pertaining to certain infor-
mation which might then be reported for apparently the first time by
the witness during hypnosis. (pp. 335–336)
Although Orne (1997) proposed these guidelines to provide minimal safe-
guards for the admission of hypnotic testimony in the courts, he eventually
concluded that hypnotically refreshed testimony is unreliable and advocated
184 Applied Criminal Psychology

its use only when a defendant’s constitutional rights were in jeopardy (Orne
et al., 1990; Udolf, 1990).

IS HYPNOSIS A SCIENTIFIC METHOD THAT CAN BE USED

IN THE COURTS IN LIGHT OF DAUBERT?

The controversy over the scientific status of hypnosis provides an illustra-

tion of the conflict that can occur when well-established beliefs of clinicians
and investigators are challenged by experimental research. The conflicting
views on the nature of hypnosis are explained by John Watkins as a conflict
between credulous believers who “feel that skeptics are rigid and naive con-
cerning the complexities of human behavior” and skeptics who hold that
“believers are soft and easily persuaded by small, uncontrolled samples”
(Watkins, 1989). Furthermore, he adds that whereas skeptics tend to be
researchers in academia, the believers tend to be clinicians who “wouldn’t be
good therapists (if) they didn’t believe in the phenomena which they evoke
and use.”
Although both could be characterized as credulous believers, clinicians
have different motivations than investigators have. The clinician is interest-
ed in relieving the pain and suffering of a patient; the investigator's goal is to
obtain the truth. In that sense, the research on hypnosis popularized in the
1970s and 1980s was not intended to challenge the clinical utility of hypno-
sis as a means to resolve psychiatric problems. Rather, the research was
clearly intended to question the underlying beliefs associated with hypnosis,
in other words, the presumption that memories obtained by hypnosis are
true.
Unfortunately, it is not clear that this work has had a substantial impact on
the practices of those who train police investigators. Despite the previous
twenty years of research, the 1994 edition of Fundamentals of Criminal
Investigation by O’Hara makes an even more dramatic claim of the record-
ing powers of the mind than that of older police guidebooks, saying that:
. . . at the subconscious level, the mind continuously records images even while the
subject is sleeping, intoxicated, or his mind is otherwise inattentive. The subcon-
scious serves as a storehouse of sensory impressions that, when accessed, will supply
the hidden details of a crime. (O’Hara & O’Hara, 1994, p. 120)

Nevertheless, even if some police investigators have not followed the scien-
tific debate, there is little question that the controversy over the scientific sta-
tus of hypnosis has resulted in changes in the way hypnosis is treated by the
courts (Orne et al., 1990). Testimony obtained as a result of hypnosis is con-
sidered inadmissible in almost all cases, due not only to the unreliability of
 Forensic Hypnosis 185

such information but also to the risk that such testimony poses on a defen-
dant’s constitutional rights (Newman & Thompson, 1999).

CONCLUSION

Investigatory forensic hypnosis is based on a well-intentioned but scientif-

ically untenable position, that is, that detailed memories could be accurately
retrieved and utilized in criminal investigations. Courts have recognized the
inherent risk that hypnotically elicited memories, although anecdotally help-
ful in some cases, could pose to the rights of a defendant in a criminal case.
Forensic hypnosis was based on untested theories of repression and mis-
directed conclusions drawn from the pioneering neurosurgical work of
Penfield. The work of Orne, Loftus, and other researchers has identified the
pitfalls associated with relying on hypnotically retrieved memories, influenc-
ing many courts to follow suit in denying the admissibility of such hypnoti-
cally derived memories.
An unfortunate irony of the scientific debate over the validity of hypnoti-
cally refreshed memories is that the scientific and judicial discrediting of
refreshed memories in a criminal setting actually preceded the more recent
and well-publicized abuse of patients by therapists utilizing “recovered me-
mory therapy.” These cases have involved the retrieval of memories of al-
leged sexual abuse and, in more dramatic cases, “memories” of ritual satan-
ic cult abuse (Nathan & Snedeker, 1995). Advocates for the use of hypnosis
in criminal cases have also tended to support the theory of repression in child
abuse cases. The quest by many zealous therapists to uncover “repressed
memories” of childhood sexual abuse through the use of memory recovery
techniques has led to a spate of lawsuits detailing the invalidity of these abuse
claims. Had the therapists involved been better informed by the discussion
involving the use of forensic hypnosis, many potentially abusive treatments
and related legal actions may well have been avoided.
A recent and perhaps more interesting debate is whether or not the use of
forensic hypnosis in the courts could lead to an expert being excluded for
failure to meet the Daubert standard of admissibility (Daubert v. Merrell Dow
Pharmaceuticals, 1993). Although the Daubert case was originally a civil case,
it places the trial judge as the ultimate gatekeeper of the admissibility of
expert testimony. According to Daubert, the expert testimony proffered must
be based on a reliable body of scientific knowledge. This reliability standard
must be grounded in scientific methods and meet professional standards of
reliability, validity, and acceptability within the field. Since Daubert applies
to scientific experts and the methods they employ, the challenge could be
introduced when an expert uses hypnosis in the course of his or her evalua-
186 Applied Criminal Psychology

tion of the defendant in a criminal case. Although the use of hypnosis for
these purposes may be testable, it is not a reliable and valid means of enhanc-
ing memory of victim and witness testimony, as demonstrated by the lack of
consistent scientific evidence in its favor.
By the time that the Daubert decision was made in 1993, forensic hypnosis
as a mechanism to recover memory was already in decline due to the influ-
ence of earlier court decisions. Whereas the 1980 decision New Jersey v. Hurd
(1980) imposed limitations on the admissibility of hypnotically refreshed tes-
timony, other cases such as the 1982 California case People v. Shirley, ren-
dered the use of hypnotically refreshed memory inadmissible in most cases
(Newman & Thompson, 1999). Although the U.S. Supreme Court acknowl-
edged that a defendant could not be barred from testifying on his or her own
behalf, despite having been previously hypnotized, the impact of the Hurd
and Shirley cases significantly decreased the likelihood that a prosecution
would benefit from the utilization of hypnotically refreshed memory
(Newman & Thompson, 1999; Udolf, 1980). The trend of general inadmissi-
bility of most hypnotically refreshed testimony has become the norm in most
jurisdictions (Webert, 2003), and New Jersey itself shifted away from the pro-
cedural guidelines established in New Jersey v. Hurd toward a more restrictive
standard of general inadmissibility in the 2006 case of New Jersey v. Moore
(2006).
In states that use a Frye general acceptance test, there continue to be deci-
sions that restrict the admissibility of forensic hypnosis. In the 2004 Illinois
Supreme Court Case People v. Sutton, a critical potential eyewitness of a mur-
der who had post injury amnesia underwent hypnosis and subsequently tes-
tified against the defendant, who was convicted of the murder. In this case,
the trial court allowed the refreshed testimony to be admitted and excluded
the testimony of a defense expert about the unreliability of hypnotically
enhanced memories. The Court, utilizing the Frye-like admissibility standard
in Illinois, as well as a previous ruling excluding the use of hypnosis by non-
defendants, vacated the murder conviction (People v. Sutton, 2004). A 2004
Texas Appellate Court case Texas v. Medrano (2004) affirmed the decision of a
trial court to exclude the hypnotically refreshed testimony of the single eye-
witness in a capital murder case.
One case in which the Daubert standards were clearly applied to the issue
of forensically refreshed testimony was the 1995 case of Borawick v. Shay
(1995), decided by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit. In the
lower court case, Joan Borawick filed a civil action against her aunt and
uncle, alleging that they had sexually abused her as a child, the memories of
which were elicited by way of hypnosis. The trial court, a U.S. District Court
in Connecticut, heard the case and ruled in favor of the defendant’s motion
to exclude the hypnotically refreshed memories of the plaintiff. Shortly after
 Forensic Hypnosis 187

this, Daubert was decided, and the plaintiff Borawick moved that the judge
reconsider the earlier exclusion on the grounds that the use of hypnosis and
the subsequent recollections satisfied the requirements of the Daubert deci-
sion. The trial court held to their earlier ruling excluding the use of hypno-
sis, and the District Court refused to have an evidentiary hearing and subse-
quently granted a summary judgment in favor of the accused defendants.
In the appeal to the Second Circuit Court of Appeals, the Court reviewed
the admissibility of post hypnotic testimony, as well as whether the Daubert
rules applied. The Court noted that this was distinct from cases such as State
v. Hurd in that rather than addressing the use of hypnosis as an investigative
tool to assist with recollection of a known specific event, it related to the rec-
ollection of memories of childhood sexual abuse purportedly recalled later
by way of therapeutically applied hypnosis. The Court supported the find-
ings of the lower court, noting that even if the lower court had had a more
thorough evidentiary hearing before issuing its summary judgment, the final
decision to exclude the admissibility was valid based on a number of factors,
including the lack of formal training by the hypnotist, the lack of a perma-
nent record of the sessions, the lack of credibility of the plaintiff Borawick, as
well as the general problems with hypnotically refreshed memories raised in
other legal cases. However, the Court ruled that Daubert did not apply in this
case, because the question at hand was not the admissibility of either scien-
tific data or an expert’s opinion, but rather whether the plaintiff Borawick
herself was a competent witness. Because she was a layperson, they con-
cluded that Daubert was inapplicable, but added that “even if Daubert were
of direct application, noting in Daubert is inconsistent with our outlined
approach” (Borawick v. Shay, 1995).
Despite the ruling in the Borawick case that Daubert only applies to the tes-
timony of experts rather than to the testimony of laypersons, other com-
mentators have concluded that the tradition of per se inadmissibility of hyp-
notically refreshed recollections may eventually be challenged by the frame-
work of Daubert in jurisdictions that utilize the Daubert standard (Martin,
2003; Webert, 2003). Martin further recommends that any attorney who is in
a Daubert jurisdiction be prepared to support any testimony involving hyp-
nosis utilizing the framework established by the Daubert case (Martin, 2003).
In the authors’ opinion, even if the Daubert standards allow for a broader
consideration of the potential admissibility of testimony related to hypnoti-
cally refreshed memories, nothing in the fifteen years since the Daubert case
has significantly challenged the science that demonstrates the risks associat-
ed with the use of hypnosis as a tool to refresh memories in an accurate man-
ner. For this reason, in our opinion the use of hypnosis in any circumstance
has the potential to lead to false information that could result in false con-
victions and false exculpations and as such should be excluded.
188 Applied Criminal Psychology

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Dr. Newman and I would like to express our sincere gratitude and apprecia-
tion to Gina Manguno-Mire, Ph.D., for her significant contributions to the
information contained in this chapter. Dr. Mire spent countless hours con-
ducting a review of the pertinent literature and making key revisions to the
content contained in the chapter. In addition, her work editing and organiz-
ing the material was significant. We are extremely grateful to Dr. Mire for her
attention to detail and her effort in editing the chapter for both content and
style. Her assistance on the writing and submission of the project was an
invaluable asset.

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 Chapter Nine

FALSE CONFESSIONS

CHRISTIAN A. M EISSNER, ALLYSON J. HORGAN,

AND J USTIN S. ALBRECHTSEN

J eff Deskovic was sixteen years of age when he falsely confessed to the rape
and murder of a fifteen-year-old classmate. He confessed to this crime after
an intense interrogation that was conducted by multiple police investigators
and lasted more than six hours. Police first suspected Deskovic because he
was late to school the day after the girl had disappeared and because he
appeared overly emotional and distraught when asked about her death.
During his interrogation, investigators lied to Deskovic, accused him of fail-
ing a series of polygraph examinations, stated that they were convinced of
his guilt, and offered him rationalizations for his apparent violent behavior.
The pressures of the interrogation finally led Deskovic to confess to the bru-
tal murder as he sobbed inconsolably and lay in the fetal position underneath
a table.
Investigation into the murder and rape of Deskovic’s classmate revealed
semen on the body that was later tested against his DNA sample. Deskovic
was informed by investigators that if his DNA failed to match that of the
specimen collected, he would be released. Unfortunately, Deskovic underes-
timated the power that his confession would have. Although the DNA evi-
dence excluded him as the donor of the semen, Deskovic was prosecuted for
murder and rape based on the statement he had provided to investigators. A
jury convicted Deskovic, and he spent more than fifteen years in prison until
he was finally exonerated in 2006 through the use of more sophisticated
DNA technology. The actual perpetrator of the crime, Steven Cunningham,
was later identified through a DNA database.

191
192 Applied Criminal Psychology

FREQUENCY OF FALSE CONFESSIONS

Similar examples of false confessions leading to wrongful conviction can

be found in the United States, Canada, Great Britain, Australia, and else-
where around the world. In the United States, organizations such as the In-
nocence Project (see www.innocenceproject.org) have worked to identify in-
stances of wrongful conviction and to delineate the causes. To date, more
than 215 wrongful convictions have been discovered, and nearly 25 percent
of these cases have included false confession evidence. Other studies of
wrongful conviction have produced similar estimates (Bedau & Radelet,
1987; Scheck, Neufeld & Dwyer, 2000), and it appears that juveniles may be
particularly vulnerable to the power of the interrogation room. In a study of
328 wrongful convictions in the United States, Gross, Jacoby, Matheson,
Montgomery, and Patil (2005) found that 44 percent of juveniles provided a
false confession when compared with only 13 percent of adults in the sam-
ple. Among the youngest, those twelve to fifteen years of age, the incidence
of false confession rose to 75 percent.
There has been a notable surge in the frequency of false confessions dis-
cussed in the media, but the actual rate of false confessions in practice is dif-
ficult to determine (cf. Leo & Ofshe, 1998). In a recent review of the litera-
ture, Gudjonnson (in press) examined the frequency of false confessions
reported by individuals who had been interrogated in actual cases. Prisoners
reported false confession rates between 12 and 24 percent, whereas commu-
nity samples reported incidence rates between 1 and 14 percent. Viljoen,
Klaver, and Roesch (2005) found that 6 percent of juvenile defendants re-
ported having provided a false confession, while studies conducted by
Redlich and colleagues (Redlich, 2007) found that 22 percent of defendants
with serious mental illness reported having provided a false confession.
Finally, a survey of police investigators in the United States who regularly
conduct interrogations estimated that 5 percent of “innocent” suspects pro-
vide a false confession (Kassin et al., 2007). Although it may be difficult to
estimate the precise incidence rate of providing a false confession, these stud-
ies make clear that the phenomenon occurs and is regularly reported by sus-
pects and police investigators alike.
In an archival study, Drizin and Leo (2004) located and analyzed 125
cases of “proven” false confessions in the United States that occurred be-
tween 1971 and 2002. More than 90 percent of these cases involved charges
of murder or rape. One third of the cases examined by Drizin and Leo con-
cerned juvenile offenders (under the age of seventeen), 10 percent of the
sample was considered “mentally ill,” and 22 percent of the sample had been
diagnosed as “mentally retarded”. Nevertheless, most of the cases investigat-
ed by the authors involved adults of normal mental health and mental capac-
 False Confessions 193

ity. Owing to the power of confession evidence, Drizin and Leo found that
81 percent of defendants were convicted at trial based on a false confession.
An additional 11 percent chose to plead “guilty” prior to trial in order to
avoid the possibility of receiving the death penalty. Following conviction, 80
percent of these innocent defendants were sentenced to more than ten years
in prison and 61 percent spent more than five years incarcerated prior to
exoneration.
Taken together, these data demonstrate that the false confession phenom-
enon occurs in our criminal justice system to a significant degree and that it
is associated with severe consequences for the innocent suspect. Several
decades of research have now examined false confessions both from the field
and, more recently, within the laboratory (see Gudjonsson, 2003; Kassin &
Gudjonsson, 2005; Lassiter & Meissner, in press). This chapter will review
our current knowledge of the false confession phenomenon, including the
typology of false confessions most frequently observed, the situational and
psychological factors that lead to the phenomenon, and recent attempts at
reducing the likelihood of false confessions in practice. The chapter will con-
clude with empirically-based recommendations for best practice in the inter-
rogation room.

TYPOLOGY OF FALSE CONFESSIONS

Analysis of the variety of false confessions observed in the real world led
Kassin and Wrightsman (1985) to delineate three types of false confessions:
voluntary, coerced-compliant, and coerced-internalized. First, a voluntary
false confession is one in which a person falsely confesses to a crime absent any
pressure or coercion from police investigators. Gudjonsson (2003) discusses
a number of reasons why someone might provide a voluntary false confes-
sion, including the desire to protect someone else, a desire for notoriety or
attention, or an inability to distinguish reality from fantasy. Research indi-
cates that the desire to protect someone else is likely to be the most common
motivation behind a voluntary false confession (cf. Sigurdsson &
Gudjonsson, 1996). A recent example of a voluntary false confession was that
of John Mark Karr, who confessed to the murder of JonBenet Ramsey in
2006. Karr had become obsessed with the Ramsey murder and ultimately
made statements implicating his involvement in her death. Ultimately, DNA
evidence from the Ramsey murder failed to match Karr's samples and testi-
mony from relatives was provided to conclude that he was elsewhere when
the incident occurred.
Coerced-compliant false confessions occur when a person falsely confesses to a
crime for some immediate gain and in spite of the conscious knowledge that
194 Applied Criminal Psychology

he or she is actually innocent of the crime. Individuals may falsely confess to

escape the pressure of the interrogation or because they believe (or have
been led to believe) that they will be allowed to go home, to sleep or eat, to
call their family or that doing so will alleviate them of the charges against
them. In general, suspects come to believe that the short-term consequences
of confessing (e.g. ending the interrogation) will outweigh the long-term con-
sequences of confessing. Most false confessions observed to date likely fall
into this category. For example, many are familiar with the “Central Park jog-
ger case” in which five teenage boys (aged fourteen to sixteen) confessed to
attacking a twenty-eight-year-old woman in New York City. The interroga-
tion of these boys lasted between fourteen and thirty hours, and the suspects
would subsequently claim that they had provided the investigators what they
wanted to hear and that they were led to believe that they would be sent
home thereafter. Subsequent investigation led to identification of the true
perpetrator, Matias Reyes. DNA testing exonerated the five boys and led to
Reyes’ conviction.
The final type identified by Kassin and Wrightsman (1985) is referred to
as a coerced-internalized false confession. This occurs when a person falsely con-
fesses to a crime and truly begins to believe that he or she is responsible for
the criminal act. Researchers have suggested that internalized false confes-
sions result from interrogation tactics that manipulate or distort the memo-
ries of individuals, causing them to develop false memories of their involve-
ment in the crime (Bem, 1966; Henkel & Coffman, 2004). For example, sus-
pects may be asked to imagine, visualize, or speculate how the crime might
have occurred. They may be provided with details of the crime by the inves-
tigator, who encourages them to continue constructing a version of the
crime. If the suspects fail to remember the event, they may be offered rea-
sons to distrust their memories, including the notion of a blackout or repres-
sion of the event or the potential effects of drug or alcohol inducement on
memory (cf. Gudjonsson, 2003). Along these lines, Kassin (1997) suggested
that two factors may be common to all coerced-internalized false confession
cases. First, the suspect’s memory must be vulnerable in some way, such as
by the use of certain substances, being fatigued during the interrogation, or
as a result of a particular vulnerability (such as being young in age, of low
intelligence, or highly suggestible). Second, the suspect must be confronted
with false evidence of his or her guilt by the investigator; for example, indi-
viduals might be told that they failed a polygraph exam or that their DNA
was found at the scene of the crime. Kassin (1997) has argued that the pres-
ence of these two factors will likely cause the suspect to question their mem-
ory and thereby open the door for suggestive interview tactics to have their
influence (see Henkel & Coffman, 2004).
Although relatively uncommon, numerous case examples of coerced-
internalized false confessions are available. The most well-known case is like-
 False Confessions 195

ly that of Paul Ingram (see Wright, 1993a, 1993b). Ingram was a deputy sher-
iff who was accused of the satanic ritual abuse of his two daughters.
Although Ingram initially denied the charges, he would eventually confess
and provide memories of the abuse over the course of five months as he was
repeatedly interrogated, hypnotized to facilitate his memory, and encour-
aged to recall the abuse by his church pastor (Olio & Cornell, 1998). Follow-
ing this internalization of the crime, Ingram pleaded guilty to the charges
against him, although he would later recant his confession and seek to with-
draw his plea. His request was denied, and he was sentenced to twenty years
of imprisonment. Evidence was amassed to suggest that the abuse never oc-
curred and that Ingram had falsely confessed to the crime. He was released
from prison in 2003, although he has not been exonerated of the charges.

MODERN POLICE INTERROGATION TACTICS

To better understand the psychological and situational factors that lead to

false confessions, one must first appreciate the psychological pressures and
tactics placed upon any suspect that enters the interrogation room. A variety
of interrogation approaches and manuals have been advocated to law
enforcement over the past few decades, and it is beyond the scope of this
chapter to review each separately. Nevertheless, these techniques can gener-
ally be described as involving two distinct phases. First, a preinterrogation
interview is conducted in which investigators will probe for signs of deceit on
the part of the suspect and assess his or her culpability. Once an investigator
is convinced of the likely guilt of the suspect, the interrogation phase of the
interview begins. Interrogation manuals, such as that of Inbau, Reid,
Buckley, and Jayne (2001) in the United States, suggest three general tactics
be employed during an interrogation: (1) custody and isolation, (2) confrontation
and maximization, and (3) minimization.
The manuals suggest that, upon initiating an interrogation, investigators
induce a period of isolation in which the suspect is detained in a small room
and left to experience the anxiety, insecurity, and uncertainty associated with
police interrogation. They should be separated from family, friends, and
other support mechanisms and thereby be made to feel alone and uneasy
about their situation. The ultimate goal of the interrogation is to encourage
suspects to rely on the interrogator and to believe that going along with his
or her suggestions (in this case, providing a confession) is in their best inter-
est.
In the second phase of an interrogation, the investigator generally con-
fronts the suspects with a firm belief in their culpability for the crime and
attempts to maximize their perception of the evidence against them and the
196 Applied Criminal Psychology

consequences associated with the act. For example, investigators may lie to
a suspect regarding the extent to which evidence supporting their guilt exists
(e.g. “We have a witness who has identified you.” “The fingerprints left at the
scene match those you provided us. How could this be?”). Investigators may
also exaggerate the consequences associated with the crime and will attempt
to prevent the suspect from denying his or her involvement. This approach
is often thought of as the “bad cop” routine, and, of course, this is followed
up with the “good cop” perspective.
In the third phase of an interrogation, a now sympathetic investigator will
attempt to gain the suspect’s trust, offer the suspect face-saving excuses or
justifications for the crime, and imply that a confession might bring about
more lenient consequences. Often referred to as theme development or min-
imization, the objective is to provide suspects with a way out of the interro-
gation room that minimizes both their perception of culpability and their
beliefs regarding the consequences associated with confession. For example,
an interrogator might say: “I know you are a good person, and this was sim-
ply an accident. Accidents happen, and the courts don’t treat accidents the
same as they would an intentional act of violence.”
It is important to note that modern interrogations rarely involve physical
abuse or threats on the part of the interrogator; rather, the interrogator
attempts to psychologically manipulate the suspect’s perception of the situa-
tion. Given the “soft” nature of these psychological techniques, many inter-
rogation manuals, such as the Reid technique (Inbau et al., 2001), argue that
these methods will not induce an innocent person to confess. This statement
is often the result of a belief that these methods will not be applied against
an innocent person, assuming that a preinterrogation assessment of the sus-
pect’s guilt (or likely deception) will exclude the innocent from the subse-
quent interrogation phase. Unfortunately, scientific evaluation of this inter-
rogation process, from deception detection to psychological manipulation,
suggests that these techniques place innocent suspects at risk.

THREE FACTORS THAT LEAD TO A FALSE CONFESSION

Social science researchers have begun to systematically examine the false

confession phenomenon over the past several decades both from the field
and within the laboratory (for reviews, see Gudjonsson, 2003; Kassin, 1997,
2005; Kassin & Gudjonsson, 2005; Redlich & Meissner, in press). Research-
ers have employed two broad methods to study interrogations and confes-
sions, namely field research and laboratory research. Field research (e.g.
observational studies of actual police interrogations or archival reviews of
wrongful convictions) carries the distinct advantage of high external validity
 False Confessions 197

and generalizability. For example, in a seminal study of U.S. police interro-

gations, Leo (1996) observed more than 300 live and videotaped interviews
in an effort to systematically document the techniques employed by investi-
gators. Similar field studies have also been conducted in Great Britain (Bald-
win, 1993; Irving; 1980; Irving & McKenzie, 1989; Moston, Stephenson &
Williamson, 1992; Softley, 1980). Archival studies, such as those conducted
by Drizin and Leo (2004) and Leo and Ofshe (1998), have similarly provid-
ed insights regarding the factors associated with false confessors in real cases,
although they do not provide a comparable sample of true confessors from
which to distinguish these effects.
Although field studies have certainly increased our understanding of po-
lice interrogations, like most field research methodologies, these approaches
suffer from issues of internal validity in that they lack the experimental con-
trols necessary to eliminate all confounds that might enable researchers to
draw causal conclusions regarding the factors responsible for the false con-
fession phenomenon. Because of the limitations of field research methods, a
number of researchers have begun to employ experimental laboratory re-
search methods (see Meissner, Russano & Narchet, in press). For example,
researchers have investigated the ability of lay individuals and police inves-
tigators to distinguish truths from lies in the context of forensic interviews
(for a review, see Bond & DePaulo, 2006; Vrij, 2008), the influence of prein-
terrogative beliefs of guilt on suspect interviews and perceptions of those
interviews (see Meissner & Kassin, 2004) and the effects of certain interroga-
tion techniques on the likelihood of true versus false confessions (Kassin &
Keichel, 1996; Russano, Meissner, Narchet & Kassin, 2005). Although limit-
ed by issues of external validity, laboratory research benefits from a high
degree of experimental control and internal validity that allows researchers
to explore cause and effect relationships. To understand the process of inter-
rogation and the psychology of false confessions, researchers have relied on
both of these approaches in attempting to build a bridge from the laborato-
ry to the field and ultimately to improving practice in the interrogation room.
Taken together, the overwhelming data from these studies suggest that
three primary factors appear to be associated with the elicitation of false con-
fessions. First, investigators attempting to detect deception on the part of the
suspect appear to demonstrate a bias toward perceiving guilt, and research
suggests that this investigative bias may lead to a pressure-filled, guilt-pre-
sumptive interrogation that places innocent suspects at risk. Second, both
field and laboratory studies have demonstrated the use of psychologically
manipulative interrogation techniques both increases the likelihood of false con-
fession and reduces the overall diagnostic value of interrogative information.
Third, certain characteristics or psychological vulnerabilities have been shown
to make some suspects more susceptible to providing a false confession. In
198 Applied Criminal Psychology

the following sections we briefly review the research supporting each of these
factors.

Investigative Biases
The reader will recall that the first phase of any suspect interview fre-
quently involves a preinterrogation interview in which investigators will
attempt to detect deception on the part of the suspect. In a recent study by
Kassin and colleagues (2007), police investigators reported that, on average,
they were 77 percent accurate in distinguishing truth versus deception in a
forensic interview. This degree of confidence in their ability to detect decep-
tion is not uncommon; in fact, Reid and associates claim to be able to train
investigators to distinguish truth and deception at an 85 percent level of ac-
curacy (http://www.reid.com).
Unfortunately, research shows that neither lay individuals nor law en-
forcement officials are particularly adept at detecting deception, even those
who have been trained. For example, Bond and DePaulo (2006) conducted
a meta-analysis of more than 200 studies in the deception detection literature
and found that individuals correctly distinguish truths and lies with 54%
accuracy. Furthermore, the analysis of expert (e.g. law enforcement) vs. naïve
(e.g. student participants) found no significant differences in deception per-
formance; in fact, the pattern of means suggested that naïve participants per-
formed somewhat better than the experts.
Meissner and Kassin (2002) further examined the effects of experience
and training on deception detection capabilities. When participants were
asked to assess the veracity of statements (denials of involvement in a crimi-
nal act) that were provided in the context of a pseudoforensic interview, they
found that investigators and trained participants, relative to naïve controls,
exhibited a proclivity to judge targets as deceptive rather than as truthful.
Although neither experience (as an investigator) nor training improved par-
ticipants’ ability to correctly distinguish between true and false statements,
both experience and training did correlate with a deception response bias, a
finding that the authors referred to as “investigative bias.”
In a follow-up study, Kassin, Meissner, and Norwick (2005) tested a com-
mon collateral assumption about the ability to detect truth and deception in
an interrogation setting, namely the commonly expressed belief by police
investigators that “I’d know a false confession if I saw one.” The authors
compared the performance of police investigators and laypersons who at-
tempted to distinguish between true and false confessions provided by actu-
al prison inmates in a state correctional facility. Overall, the investigator bias
effect was replicated such that police were predisposed to believe both the
true and the false confessions. That is, the response bias did not lead police
 False Confessions 199

to see deception per se, but to infer guilt, an inference that rested upon a ten-
dency to believe false confessions. Once again, this investigative bias to per-
ceive guilt was enhanced among those with extensive law enforcement expe-
rience and those who had received training in interviewing and interroga-
tion.
The remaining question regards the extent to which such an investigative
bias might influence the conduct of an interrogation. Could a bias toward
perceiving guilt in a preinterrogation interview lead an investigator to con-
duct a more aggressive, pressure-filled interrogation? Kassin, Goldstein, and
Savitsky (2003) investigated whether a presumption of guilt might influence
the conduct of student interrogators, the behavior of their suspects, and ulti-
mately the judgments made by neutral observers. Participant suspects were
asked to complete a mock crime or to complete a related, but innocent, act.
These suspects were then subsequently interviewed by other subjects playing
the role of investigators, who were led to believe that the suspect was either
guilty or innocent of the crime. Kassin and colleagues (2003) found that
investigators who were led to expect guilt rather than innocence asked more
guilt-presumptive questions, employed more interrogation techniques, exert-
ed more pressure on the suspects to confess, and were more likely to believe
that the suspect was guilty. Furthermore, this investigative bias toward per-
ceiving guilt caused the innocent suspects to act more defensively and to be
perceived as more guilty by third-party observers.
In a recent study conducted by Narchet, Meissner, and Russano (2008),
the impact of investigative bias was further examined for its influence on the
elicitation of true versus false confessions. Using a “cheating paradigm”
developed by Russano and colleagues (2005), the authors led student inter-
rogators to believe that participants were either guilty or innocent of sharing
information on a problem-solving task with another participant (who was a
confederate to the study). The student interrogators had been trained in fif-
teen different interrogation techniques (including aspects of maximization
and minimization), and the authors examined the influence of the preinter-
rogative information on the conduct of the interrogations, the perceptions of
the participant suspects, and the resulting true versus false confession.
Narchet and colleagues (2008) found that an investigative bias towards per-
ceiving guilt led investigators to conduct longer interrogations involving a
greater number of pressure-filled tactics. Innocent suspects perceived greater
pressure to confess resulting from this manipulation and were more likely to
falsely confess as a result. Finally, investigators’ initial belief in guilt ulti-
mately led them to perceive that these false confessions were more likely
attributable to guilty suspects.
Together, this line of research suggests that investigative biases toward per-
ceiving guilt are prevalent among investigators, particularly those with
200 Applied Criminal Psychology

greater experience and training in deception detection approaches. Given

that most interrogation manuals encourage a finding of deception or guilt
prior to initiating an interrogation, these studies further suggest that a pre-
sumption of guilt sets in motion a process in which investigators conduct
longer, more pressure-filled and guilt presumptive interrogations that can
lead to the elicitation of a false confession when lodged against an innocent
suspect. In the next section, we turn our attention to the specific interroga-
tion tactics that are brought about by this process.

Psychologically-Coercive Interrogation Tactics

Interrogation of a suspect is one of the most difficult tasks in a police inves-
tigation, and throughout history investigators have resorted to a wide variety
of techniques intended to break down a suspect’s resistance and yield a con-
fession. Interrogation techniques have evolved from overtly coercive, third
degree tactics (e.g. beatings, sleep deprivation; see Leo, 2004) to modern-day
practices that involve more subtle, yet effective, psychologically based tech-
niques (White, 2003). These modern interrogation practices, described
before, are believed to be effective in eliciting true confessions, but could
they also be responsible for the false confessions observed in recent cases of
wrongful conviction?
Both field and laboratory research has led to the conclusion that common
police interrogation tactics, such as minimization and maximization, in-
crease the likelihood of false confession when applied against innocent sus-
pects. For example, research by Kassin and Keichel (1996) found that the
presentation of false evidence, a classic maximization technique, increased
the likelihood of false confession. A study by Russano and colleagues (2005)
observed that minimization tactics, in which a sympathetic interrogator pro-
vides a face-saving excuse and implies leniency to a suspect, increased false
confession rates. Combining these techniques, Klaver, Rose, and Lee (2003)
and Narchet and colleagues (2008) found that the use of both minimization
and maximization techniques increased the likelihood of false confession.
Both observational studies (e.g. Leo, 1996) and case-based examples (e.g.
Leo & Ofshe, 1998; Ofshe & Leo, 1997) confirm both the use and the risks
associated with such techniques for the innocent suspect.
In its landmark decision of Miranda v. Arizona (1966), the U.S. Supreme
Court explicitly acknowledged that “The atmosphere and environment of
incommunicado interrogation as it exists today is inherently intimidating and
works to undermine the privilege against self-incrimination” (p. 384). It is
clear that the context in which the interrogation takes place is believed to
play a large role in the success of obtaining a confession, but could this also
work against the innocent suspect? Research has suggested that several situ-
 False Confessions 201

ational factors inherent to the interrogation may be associated with false con-
fessions (see Kassin & Gudjonnson, 2005). For example, interrogators are
trained to remove suspects from their familiar surroundings and to question
them in a sparsely furnished, dimly lit interrogation room. This process of
isolation increases anxiety and insecurity on the part of the suspect (Zimbar-
do, 1967), and studies suggest that a preexisting state of stress can increase
the likelihood of an innocent suspects providing a false confession (Forrest,
Wadkins & Miller, 2002). In addition, false confessions have been found to
be associated with lengthy interrogations. For example, Drizin and Leo
(2004) found that among their 125 cases of proven false confession, 34 per-
cent lasted between six and twelve hours, and 39 percent lasted between
twelve and twenty-four hours, with an average interrogation length of ap-
proximately sixteen hours. Such lengthy interrogations are likely to involve
deprivations of food or sleep, and research suggests that interrogative sug-
gestibility significantly increases when individuals are deprived of sleep (see
Blagrove, 1996).
The psychological processes initiated by an interrogation have been vari-
ously described and evaluated (Gudjonsson, 2003; Hilgendorf & Irving,
1981; Ofshe & Leo, 1997), with a general consensus that the pressures of the
interrogation room led to a seemingly rational decision for the innocent sus-
pect. In particular, suspects appear to undergo a natural decision-making
process when evaluating the alternatives presented to them in the context of
an interrogation. As so eloquently described by Ofshe and Leo (1997):
Psychological interrogation is effective at eliciting confessions because of a funda-
mental fact of human decision-making—people make optimizing choices given the
alternatives they consider. Psychologically-based interrogation works effectively by
controlling the alternatives a person considers and by influencing how those alterna-
tives are understood. The techniques interrogators use have been selected to limit a
person’s attention to certain issues, to manipulate his perceptions of his present situ-
ation and to bias his evaluation of the choices before him. The techniques used to
accomplish these manipulations are so effective that if misused they can result in
decisions to confess from the guilty and innocent alike. Police elicit the decision to
confess from the guilty by leading them to believe that the evidence against them is
overwhelming, that their fate is certain (whether or not they confess), and that there
are advantages that follow if they confess. Investigators elicit the decision to confess
from the innocent in one of two ways: either by leading them to believe that their sit-
uation, though unjust, is hopeless and will only be improved by confessing; or by per-
suading them that they probably committed a crime about which they have no mem-
ory and that confessing is the proper and optimal course of action. (pp. 985-986)

In summary, research examining the use of psychologically based interro-

gation methods has confirmed that these methods, although powerfully effec-
tive in eliciting confessions from guilty individuals, also place the innocent
suspect at risk. In particular, the context of an interrogation works to increase
202 Applied Criminal Psychology

the anxiety experienced by the innocent suspect, while the interrogative

methods alter the suspect’s perception of reality. Together, these factors ulti-
mately produce a “rational decision” that providing a false confession is the
only manner in which to alleviate the pressures of the interrogation room.

Psychological Vulnerabilities of the Suspect

Finally, research has suggested that some individuals may be more vul-
nerable than others are in the interrogation room, and particularly with re-
gard to providing a false confession. Specifically, there appear to be certain
characteristics that render an individual more susceptible to interrogation,
including the age, mental capacity, suggestibility, and physical or psycholog-
ical state of the suspect at the time of the interrogation. First, a number of
field studies (e.g. Baldwin & McConville, 1980; Leiken, 1970; Phillips &
Brown, 1998; Softley, 1980; for a review, see Drizin & Colgan, 2004) and sev-
eral empirical studies (Billings et al., 2007; Redlich & Goodman, 2003; see
Redlich, Silverman, Chen & Steiner, 2004) have demonstrated that younger
suspects, and in particular children, are more likely to falsely incriminate
themselves or confess, or both, during an interrogation than are older per-
sons or adults. Indeed, 32 percent of the false confessions discussed by Drizin
and Leo (2004) involved juveniles under the age of eighteen.
Second, studies have suggested that police routinely interrogate persons of
low intelligence or IQ (see Gudjonsson, 1993) and that such individuals may
be more suggestible and less able to cope with the pressures of the interro-
gation room (Gudjonsson, 1990, 2003). For example, Drizin and Leo (2004)
found that 19 percent of their sample of false confessors could be classified
as “mentally retarded.” It appears that both decision-making abilities and
heightened suggestibility in this population may result in the increased risk
of falsely confessing.
Third, interrogative suggestibility (or the unique characteristic of a given
individual to demonstrate increased suggestibility in a forensic interview set-
ting) has been associated with false confessions (Gudjonsson, 2003; Gudjon-
sson & Clark, 1986). The Gudjonsson Suggestibility Scale (GSS) (Gudjon-
sson, 1984) has been developed and utilized to assess suggestibility in a num-
ber of studies, with suggestibility often being associated with poor memory,
low self-esteem, high levels of anxiety, and a greater likelihood of confession
(see Gudjonsson, 1991, 2003). Compliance (or the degree to which a given
individual may yield to social requests), as measured by the Gudjonsson
Compliance Scale (GCS) (Gudjonsson, 1989, 1991), has also been shown to
be associated with a greater likelihood of confession.
Finally, the psychological state (e.g. due to drug use or mental illness) of a
suspect at the time of interrogation may also be linked to the likelihood of
 False Confessions 203

false confession (Pearse, Gudjonsson, Clare & Rutter, 1998; Redlich, 2004).
For example, studies have indicated that suspects undergoing alcohol with-
drawal at the time of interrogation are more likely to provide a false confes-
sion (Gudjonsson et al., 2004). Furthermore, individuals suffering from men-
tal illness, including depression and anxiety disorders, may be increasingly
susceptible to interrogative pressures (see Gudjonsson, 2003). For example,
10 percent of the Drizin and Leo (2004) sample of false confessors were de-
scribed as “mentally ill.”
In summary, it is important to consider the variety of unique characteris-
tics that may cause a particular suspect to be vulnerable to the power of the
interrogation room. While some of these factors may be readily apparent to
the investigator (e.g., the age of the suspect), others may be more difficult to
discern (e.g., the degree of interrogative suggestibility, or the presence of
mental illness). Nevertheless, the investigator must be ever mindful of the
individual and his/her susceptibility to the power of the interrogation room.

A NEW MODEL OF INTERROGATION

Identifying interrogation strategies that minimize the likelihood of obtain-

ing false confessions without compromising the ability of interrogators to
elicit true confessions is a challenge faced by law enforcement and re-
searchers alike. In assessing what progress law enforcement has made in this
area, it may be informative to examine the interrogation practices of Great
Britain. Although interviewing practices in the United States and Great Bri-
tain were on par with one another through the 1980s, these two countries
now differ greatly in their approaches (Bull & Milne, 2004).
In Great Britain, public response to recurrent miscarriages of justice
involving proven false confessions became a catalyst for change (see Gudjon-
sson, 2003). In 1981, the Royal Commission on Criminal Procedure (RCCP)
was established to assess pretrial criminal procedures and to generate sug-
gestions for reform in England and Wales. To achieve its goal the RCCP
commissioned several researchers to carry out programs of research explor-
ing events in the interrogation room (Gudjonsson, 2003). After concluding
that the police frequently relied on interrogation techniques that were both
physically and psychologically manipulative (which resemble methods cur-
rently employed in the United States) and that the police had no existing
protocol or training on interrogations (Irving, 1980; Irving & Hilgendorf,
1980), the Police and Criminal Evidence (PACE) Act of 1984 was created.
The primary goal of the PACE Act was to reduce the use of psychologically
manipulative tactics and to require that all interrogations be audiorecorded
(Bull & Milne, 2004). The move to PACE appears to have been successful.
204 Applied Criminal Psychology

A post-PACE study conducted by Irving and McKenzie (1989) found that

the use of psychologically manipulative tactics had significantly declined
and, more importantly, that the frequency of confessions did not decrease.
In 1993, the Royal Commission on Criminal Justice further reformed
British interrogation methods by proposing the PEACE model. Each letter
of the acronym PEACE represents a phase of interrogation that investigators
should adhere to. In the “preparation and planning” phase, interrogators
focus on organizing evidence and constructing a plan for the interview.
During the “engage and explain” phase, the goal is to build rapport and to
make the suspect aware of the purpose of the interview. The third phase,
“account,” is the core of the interview. Contrary to the United States style of
interrogation, these interrogations maintain the goal of fact finding rather
than obtaining a confession, and investigators are not permitted to deceive
suspects. After initiating the interview, suspects are encouraged to provide a
complete account of their involvement or relation to the crime, and they are
encouraged to speak freely; close-ended questions are kept to a minimum
(Bull & Milne, 2004; Mortimer & Shepherd, 1999). Once the suspect has
completed his or her narrative, the investigator provides the opportunity to
correct any discrepancies (the “closure” phase). Finally, the investigator com-
pares the suspect’s statements to evidence, tries to clear up any inconsisten-
cies, and draws conclusions based on evidence and facts that have been gath-
ered during the “evaluate” phase.
Thus far, evaluations of PEACE have been limited to observational re-
search like that of Clarke and Milne (2001). They observed that the PEACE
model appeared to succeed in yielding confession evidence in real cases, but
officers seemed to forget their training rather quickly and that only 10 per-
cent of the cases they reviewed were likely in violation of the PACE Act.
Clarke and Milne concluded that when compared with pre-PEACE inter-
views, the post-PEACE interviews were more ethical and preferable overall.
Once again, despite moving to a noncoercive approach, investigators using
PEACE are able to secure confessions. Police in New Zealand have now also
adopted the PEACE protocol after the successes of Great Britain (New Zea-
land Herald, 2006).

RECOMMENDATIONS FOR BEST PRACTICE

This chapter has attempted to review current research on the false confes-
sions phenomenon in an attempt to delineate factors that likely increase the
risks to innocent suspects. Although empirical research on interrogations and
confessions continues to evolve, we believe that several best practice recom-
mendations can be offered to police investigators.
 False Confessions 205

Transparency of the Interrogation Process

First and foremost, the interrogation should be made “transparent”
through the use of videotaping. Law enforcement personnel often fear that
the videotaping of an interrogation will to some degree limit their discretion
or effectively reduce the likelihood of achieving a confession from the sus-
pect. In fact, research has demonstrated that the recording of interrogations
does not significantly lower the frequency of confessions produced (Geller,
1992; Grant, 1987; Willis, Macleod & Naish, 1988), and investigators have
found that videotaping can enhance the perceived strength and voluntary
nature of the evidence while protecting the investigator against unfounded
allegations of wrongdoing (Sullivan, in press). In a recent survey of U.S. law
enforcement, 81 percent of investigators advocated the recordings of custo-
dial interrogations (Kassin et al., 2007). Those seeking to institute such a pol-
icy should consider two key issues. First, recording should include all inter-
actions between a suspect and an investigator. Second, the angle of record-
ing should adhere to recommendations based on research by Lassiter and
colleagues (see Lassiter & Geers, 2004).

Be Wary of Suspect Vulnerabilities

Investigators should evaluate suspects for characteristics that are likely to
place them at risk in the interrogation room. As discussed earlier, the age,
mental ability, and psychological state of the suspects are important factors
to consider prior to initiating any interrogative scenario. Juveniles, and espe-
cially young children, should be interviewed in the presence of counsel or
parental supervision. Individuals of questionable mental status should be
evaluated prior to interrogation. The interview of suspects under the influ-
ence of alcohol or drugs or those undergoing withdrawal symptoms should
be withheld until treatment has been provided and a state of normal cogni-
tive functioning has returned.

Assess the Reliability of the Confession Statement

Leo and Ofshe (1998) have recommended that investigators evaluate the
suspect’s postadmission narrative to determine the extent to which the details
provided in the statement are consistent with known facts in the case. Given
that the goal of an interrogation is to yield evidence of the crime directly
from the suspect, it is important that investigators (1) withhold details of the
case from the media or third parties that might otherwise contaminate a sus-
pect’s knowledge of case-related information and (2) not provide a suspect
with details of the case during the course of an interrogation (including evi-
dentiary materials, crime scene photographs, or visits to the crime scene)
206 Applied Criminal Psychology

such that a true assessment of the suspect’s knowledge might be gleaned

from the confession statement. In addition, investigators should assess
whether any novel evidence was obtained during the course of the interro-
gation that might independently corroborate the confession statement.

CONCLUSION

False confessions occur in our criminal justice system with some regulari-
ty and are responsible for the wrongful conviction of innocent individuals
around the world. This phenomenon is a troublesome reality, but research-
ers have begun to delineate factors that may be responsible for its occur-
rence, including the role of investigative biases stemming from preinterroga-
tion interviews, the psychological pressures placed on an innocent suspect
using modern-day interrogation methods, and the individual characteristics
that make certain suspects more vulnerable to the power of the interrogation
room. Given the maturity of our scientific understanding, we are also now in
a position to recommend certain best practice approaches that will assist
investigators in achieving true confessions while protecting the innocent. We
believe that further research into alternative methods of interrogation that
might yield more diagnostic confession evidence (i.e. a greater likelihood of
true vs. false confessions) is warranted, particularly with regard to the non-
coercive approaches advocated in Great Britain. Ultimately, it will be impor-
tant for researchers and practitioners to work together on this critical issue.

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 Part C
INVESTIGATING OR RESPONDING
TO CRIME
 Chapter Ten

CRIMINAL PROFILING

RICHARD N. KOCSIS

C riminal profiling can be understood as a psychological technique where-

by behaviors evident in a crime or series of related crimes are evaluat-
ed typically for the purpose of inferring attributes about probable offenders
(Kocsis, 2006). A few examples of such attributes can include, but are not
limited to, the age of the offenders, their gender, level of education, and gen-
eral appearance; and even aspects of their personality (Rossi, 1982;
Vorpagel, 1982). The amalgamation of these characteristics is, in colloquial
parlance, referred to as a criminal profile, and individuals who compile them
are often referred to as profilers (Douglas, Burgess, Burgess & Ressler, 2006;
Jeffers, 1992; Campbell & DeNevi, 2004). This conversion of a specific task
into a vocation is something of a peculiarity given that a universally accept-
ed standard denoting who may engage in constructing a criminal profile does
not currently exist (Bekerian & Jackson, 1997; Bumgarner, 2007; Kocsis &
Palermo, 2007).
To fully understand what criminal profiling is also requires some explana-
tion of what it is not, given the existence of a number of other similarly enti-
tled techniques. One example is DNA profiling, which entails the analysis of
organic matter typically found at a crime scene to establish whether the
genetic code corresponds with that of a person or persons of interest in rela-
tion to that crime (Lazer, 2004). Another example is that of racial profiling
(also know as actuarial profiling) (Harcourt, 2007) which, as a technique, pre-
dominantly involves the conglomeration of demographic characteristics
believed to be commonly shared by individuals who engage in a particular
form of crime to potentially identify similar future offenders. An illustration
of such profiling involves the identification of supposedly typical character-

213
214 Applied Criminal Psychology

istics of individuals engaged in smuggling narcotics through airports that cus-

toms officers may proactively use as a guide to select and search travelers. In
contrast, criminal profiling is reactive via the examination of behaviors
exhibited at crime scenes. Additionally, the attributes predicted for an of-
fender in a criminal profile are determined by the interpretation of the exhi-
bited behaviors in the particular crime under examination. Consequently,
the content of criminal profiles can be quite varied, whereas the attributes
contained in racial profiles are reflective of a fixed set of aggregated demo-
graphics.
Criminal profiling has also developed a number of semantic variations in
nomenclature, including offender profiling, psychological profiling, and
criminal personality profiling to name only a few. The precise basis of such
variations in terminology is unclear, but their use predominantly appears
related to the linguistic preferences of differing regions of the world. Thus,
offender profiling appears to be commonly used in the United Kingdom and
Europe (e.g. Boon, 1995; Canter, 1989; Jackson & Bekerian, 1997) whereas
criminal profiling seems more common in North America (Hicks & Sale,
2006; Holmes & Holmes, 2002). For convenience, however, the technique
will continue to be referred to herein as criminal profiling or simply profil-
ing.
The basic purpose of criminal profiling is to act as a tool that may assist
with lines of inquiry in a criminal investigation (Douglas & Burgess, 1986;
Douglas, Ressler, Burgess & Hartman, 1986; Holmes & Holmes, 2002). A
number of differing avenues exist whereby this objective may be achieved.
Possibly the most common method is for a profile to serve as a tool for pri-
oritizing the investigation of known suspects. Thus, suspects who possess
characteristics matching those of a profile are prioritized for greater scrutiny
by investigators in comparison to suspects who do not match the profile
(Douglas & Burgess, 1986). In this context it should be noted that the use of
criminal profiles are only recommended as a method by which investigative
resources, in terms of which leads to pursue first, can be ordered. The degree
of congruence that a suspect may have with the predicted attributes of a
criminal profile is not advocated as a means by which suspects are eliminat-
ed from an investigation (Douglas et al., 1986).
The context in terms of what types of crime criminal profiling may be
applied to is something of a contested issue. Traditionally, criminal profiling
has been recommended as most beneficial to the investigation of intractable
crimes (Douglas & Oleshaker, 1995; Fisher, 1993; Ressler & Shachtman,
1992), which are suggestive of some form of psychopathology or aberrant
psychological drive(s), or both, within the offender(s) (Geberth, 1983;
Holmes & Holmes, 2002; Rossi, 1982; Vorpagel, 1982). This is not to suggest
that profiling is not potentially applicable to more conventional forms of
 Criminal Profiling 215

crime. However, it is in the context of intractable, aberrant, violent crimes

where profiling is seen as being of optimal benefit in practical (i.e. opera-
tional) terms (Nowikowski, 1995). Whereas some scholars appear to endorse
this perspective (e.g. Campbell & DeNevi, 2004; Hickey, 2001; Holmes &
Holmes, 2002; Kocsis, 2006) others seem to view profiling as broader in
application and extending potentially to a wider variety of offences beyond
intractable violent crimes (e.g. Alison, 2005; Canter, 2004).
Perhaps one of the greatest myths surrounding criminal profiling is the
belief that it is a recent innovation. In contrast to popular media depictions,
the concept of criminal profiling — that is, examining behavioral patterns evi-
dent in a crime to glean some impression of the probable offender — has
been in use for well over a century. Beyond analogies between criminal pro-
filing and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s consummate fictional detective Sherlock
Holmes (Doyle, 1891), examples of profiling can be found throughout his-
tory dating back as far as 1888 and the investigation of the Whitechappel
murderer, also known as Jack the Ripper (Whittington-Egan, 1975). Other
instances in which criminal profiling has been used (typically via the consul-
tation of a mental health professional) appear throughout history and involve
some of the world’s most infamous cases. A few such examples include the
kidnapping of Charles Lindbergh, Jr., in the 1920s (Shoenfeld, 1936), the
evaluation of Adolf Hitler by the U.S.. Office of Strategic Services (Langer,
1972), the Mad Bomber of New York, and the Boston Strangler in the 1950s
and 1960s (Brussel, 1968; Frank, 1966). Although research and development
into dedicated methods for criminal profiling have certainly flourished over
approximately the past three decades (Dowden, Bennell & Bloomfield,
2007), the historical realities indicate that the fundamental concept of profil-
ing, that is, evaluating crime behaviors to infer attributes about the probable
offender, is in fact very old.

APPROACHES TO CRIMINAL PROFILING

Criminal profiling has evolved over time, and as a consequence what can
be described as differing schools of thought or approaches to the task of con-
structing a criminal profile have also developed (Kocsis, 2007a). In this con-
text, the practice of criminal profiling can be viewed as somewhat analogous
to the field of personality theory. In attempting to understand human behav-
ior there is common agreement among scholars in the fundamental construct
of the mind (Gregory, 2004). However, although there is a general consen-
sus in this basic construct, various rivaling theoretical perspectives (e.g. psy-
chodynamic, cognitive behaviorism, gestalt) exist that endeavor to explain
the operation of the mind (Monte, 1995). Within the topic of criminal profil-
216 Applied Criminal Psychology

ing there is, akin to the field of personality theory, general agreement with
the fundamental notion of evaluating crime behaviors to gain some insight
into the probable perpetrator. Also akin to the field of personality theory are
differing views concerning the best methods and principles to employ when
profiling crimes (Palermo & Kocsis, 2005). Consequently, to explain the
process of profiling requires a brief overview of these differing approaches as
well as some examination of the clinically oriented origins of criminal pro-
filing and the discrete topic of geographic profiling. It must be noted, how-
ever, that the parameters of this chapter do not allow for any comprehensive
coverage of the underlying principles inherent to each of the approaches. As
a consequence, the following material is primarily focused on highlighting
some of the key themes and features that typically characterize each
approach.

Diagnostic Evaluations: Clinical Perspectives on Profiling

Crimes
As previously indicated, the historical origins of criminal profiling largely
emanate from the endeavors of various mental health professionals who
have been consulted on an intermittent basis to render an evaluation of a
crime that may be of some assistance to police investigators. This circum-
stance in which the task of profiling has occurred has been referred to as
diagnostic evaluations (DE) (Wilson, Lincoln & Kocsis, 1997). It needs to be
clarified that DE are largely an artifact of the practical application of psychi-
atry/psychology rather than being a coherent research based approach to
profiling per se. The term DE is best viewed as a descriptor for the afore-
mentioned circumstance in which a criminal profile is sought from a mental
health professional. Consequently, the theoretical basis for DE is the com-
mon method by which profiles are constructed. That is, with DE mental
health professionals draw on their disciplinary knowledge, typically from
psychiatry or psychology, to profile the crime. Thus, a profile is produced via
an attempt to relate or diagnose possible psychopathologies indicative of the
behaviors evident in a crime and from this to extrapolate some understand-
ing of the probable offender (e.g. Badcock, 1997; Britton, 1997; Boon, 1997;
Girod, 2004: Kent, 1999; Palermo, 2004; Proulx, Beauregard, Cusson &
Nicole, 2007; Revitch & Schlesinger, 1989). It is from this diagnostic-like
process of assessing possible psychopathology that the term diagnostic eval-
uation was derived (Palermo & Kocsis, 2005).
The legacy and importance of DE should not be underestimated because
a number of significant dimensions to the contemporary practice of criminal
profiling originate from DE. Foremost among them is that all approaches to
profiling share a fundamental disciplinary grounding in psychology/psychi-
atry in attempting to understand human behaviors, motivations, and psy-
 Criminal Profiling 217

chopathological factors that may explain exhibited patterns of behavior.

Additionally, DE remain one of the most readily accessible means by which
a criminal profile may be obtained. That is, investigators to this day may sim-
ply elect to consult mental health professionals regarding a particular crime
to ascertain whether they can offer some useful insight into the crime and its
perpetrator(s) (Wilson et al., 1997). Indeed, what have been hailed as some
of the most remarkably perspicuous criminal profiles have originated from
individuals who could arguably be viewed as proponents of the diagnostic
evaluation approach (Palermo & Kocsis, 2005).

Criminal Investigative Analysis

What arguably constitutes the first systematic research-based approach to
criminal profiling is the collective work of personnel affiliated with the
Behavioral Sciences Unit (BSU) of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s
(FBI) training academy (Ressler, Douglas, Groth & Burgess, 1980; van
Zandt, 1994). The BSU approach to criminal profiling has been termed crim-
inal investigative analysis (CIA) (Douglas & Oleshaker, 1995; Hazelwood,
Ressler, Depue & Douglas, 1995). In response to a perceived prevalence of
aberrant violent crime and a desire to assist in the investigation of such
crimes agents attached to the BSU began a research program in the late
1970s to study the behavioral patterns manifest in these offences (Ressler,
Burgess & Douglas, 1988). The ultimate purpose of this research was to gar-
ner a better understanding of the modus operandi and psychological mecha-
nisms driving the perpetrator of these crimes. Integral to these research
endeavors, however, was an operational agenda for law enforcement to iden-
tify features specifically focused on the needs of investigative personnel
(Ressler & Shachtman, 1992). Previous research in the area was viewed as
predominantly clinical in perspective and thus oriented toward topics that
were not considered particularly relevant to the objectives of investigators
(e.g. rehabilitation) and thus superfluous in attempting to apprehend the per-
petrators of such offences (Ressler, 1985).
The method for constructing a criminal profile using the CIA method is
somewhat akin to DE in that it involves a process that can be regarded as
similar to the formulation of clinical judgment by a mental health practition-
er (Dietz, 1985; Douglas et al., 1986). What differentiates CIA, however, is
that instead of drawing upon diagnostic criteria for mental disorders, it draws
on its own body of research concerning crime patterns, related offender char-
acteristics, motivations, and avenues for the investigation of offences (e.g.
Douglas et al., 2006). The modes of crime that have been studied by the BSU
are quite diverse but have predominantly focused on crimes of interperson-
al violence, such as sexual assault (Hazelwood, 1995; Hazelwood & Burgess,
218 Applied Criminal Psychology

1987), arson (Icove & Estepp, 1987), and homicide (Ressler et al., 1988).
Possibly the most renowned piece of research developed in the CIA
sphere is the organized/disorganized offender typology that was originally
derived from the study of sexual murderers and their crime scenes (Ressler,
Burgess, Douglas, Hartman & D’Agostino, 1986). The premise underpinning
this dichotomy is that crime scenes are distinguishable and thus interpretable
by their degree of behavioral sophistication. Thus, an organized crime scene
is indicative of a high degree of behavioral sophistication on the part of the
offender, such as planning and precautionary measures undertaken in
respect of the offense. A constellation of distinguishable offender character-
istics has been identified as being commonly associated with these organized
crime scene behaviors. A few examples of such offender characteristics
include a higher standard of education, having a skilled job, and possessing
a vehicle. In contrast to the patterns indicative of the organized category are
the features of the disorganized category. Thus, a disorganized crime scene is
characterized by behaviors that are viewed as being indicative of a low or
minimal degree of behavioral sophistication on the part of the offender(s). In
this respect, disorganized crimes are described as featuring comparative dis-
array and are viewed as being perpetrated in a spontaneous/opportunistic
manner suggestive of no real planning. Akin to the organized category, a
constellation of commonly occurring characteristics inherent to offenders
who perpetrate crimes in a disorganized fashion have also been identified.
Some of these attributes typically include a low standard of education, limit-
ed or no employment, and being slovenly in appearance (Ressler et al.,
1988).
The construction of a criminal profile via the CIA approach involves an
assessment of the behaviors exhibited in the crime as compared with the
organized/disorganized dichotomy. Thus, some interpretation is made as to
whether the exhibited behaviors correspond with the behavioral attributes of
either the organized or disorganized category. Once such a determination is
made the process of predicting offender characteristics is determined from
the corresponding offender characteristics previously developed as indica-
tive of either an organized or disorganized offender (Ressler et al., 1986).

Investigative Psychology
Another research-based approach to profiling is that known as investiga-
tive psychology (IP), which appears to advocate the creation of a disciplinary
specialization focused on psychological principles specifically applicable to
the investigation of crime (Canter, 1995, 2000). In this context what may tra-
ditionally be viewed as criminal profiling constitutes only one of a range of
topics encapsulated by IP. Justification for developing the nomenclature IP
 Criminal Profiling 219

is debatable, given the prior existence of other analogous specializations.

That is, a number of disciplinary fields already exist, such as forensic, police,
and criminal psychology, which arguably already embody the topics that
appear to form the basis of IP (Arrigo & Shipley, 2005; Aumiller et al., 2008;
Bull et al., 2007; Raskin, 1989).
Regardless, a coherent body of empirical research has developed in IP
whereby crime behaviors have been studied for the purpose of gaining some
understanding about the attributes of a probable offender that may be used
in an investigative capacity. One of the characteristic features of IP research
is that it advocates the analysis of crime behaviors independent of the infer-
ence of motivations attached to those behaviors. The inference of motiva-
tions with behaviors is argued as being a methodological limitation to previ-
ous research in the area (Canter & Heritage, 1989). Another common feature
of IP research is the use of ideographic methods of analysis and the use of
quite specialized statistics such as multidimensional scaling (MDS) (Coxon,
1982).
Figure 10-1
SSA Diagram of Homicide Crime Scene Behaviors with Offense Patterns Identified

From Salfati, G.C. (2000). The nature of expressive and instrumentiality in homicide.
Homicide Studies, Vol. 4(3), pp. 265-293 (figure 1). © Sage Publications, Inc.
Reprinted with permission of Sage Publications, Inc.
220 Applied Criminal Psychology

The findings of IP studies often focus on the identification of discernible

themes that characterize particular behavioral styles exhibited in various
forms of crime. As a simple example, an analysis of exhibited behaviors in
domestic homicides may reveal cogent patterns indicative of either an instru-
mental or expressive purpose in the typically enacted behaviors of these
crimes (Salfati, 2000, see Figure 10-1). From the identification of these pat-
terns general theorems can then be advanced that characterize and explain
the criminal behavior observed. The development of these theorems can in
turn inform any predictions concerning the probable offender of similar
future crimes. Akin to other approaches to criminal profiling IP’s research
efforts have examined a range of crime modalities including arson (e.g.
Canter & Fritzon, 1998), serial murder (e.g. Godwin, 2000), and sexual
assault (e.g. Canter & Heritage, 1989).

Crime Action Profiling

Possibly the most recent research-based approach to criminal profiling is
that of crime action profiling (CAP). In many respects, CAP is a hybrid of its
predecessors and thus, akin to CIA, endeavors to focus on issues more per-
tinent to the operational goals of investigators. Additionally, CAP makes use
of similar methods of statistical analysis (i.e. MDS) akin to IP and the initial
premise of analyzing crime behaviors independent of inferring motives in an
offender.
Where CAP markedly differs from other approaches, however, is in the
development of models in which crime behaviors are correlated with various
offender characteristics and thus operate as mechanisms by which the per-
petrators of future crimes may be profiled. The use of CAP models is con-
ceptually similar to the process of reading time from a nondigital wristwatch.
The models feature diagrams displaying various crime behaviors as denoted
by a range of icons. The crime behaviors exhibited in the offence under con-
sideration are then examined for their correspondence with those in the rel-
evant CAP model. Thereafter, various arrows that have been superimposed
onto a CAP model serve as guides, dependent upon their proximity to the
identified behaviors in the model to attributes about the offender that may
be predicted. Thus, through a somewhat mechanized process comparisons
can be drawn with displayed behaviors in a crime, and from the interpreta-
tion of the CAP model, predictions can be made about various attributes that
may be related to the probable offender. One component of a CAP model is
displayed in Figure 10-2.
As a final point, the CAP approach adopts a refined perspective in the
application of profiling to crimes of an aberrant violent nature. In this respect
only three CAP models have thus far been developed: one that is designed
 Criminal Profiling 221

for the profiling of sexual murders, another focused upon the profiling of ser-
ial rape offences, and a third for the profiling of serial arson offenses. This is
not to suggest that the concepts inherent to CAP may not be adaptable to
more conventional modes of crime but rather that the key focus is on aber-
rant crimes, which profiling is arguably better suited to in terms of assisting
criminal investigators beyond standard investigative procedures. The various
principles and procedures inherent to the CAP approach to profiling crimes
are best summarized in Kocsis (2006).

Figure 10-2
VICTIM CHARACTERISTICS CLUSTER VECTORS FITTED TO THE TWO
DIMENSIONAL HOMICIDE SCENE BEHAVIOR MDS COORDINATES

Source: Kocsis, R. N., Cooksey, R. W., & Irwin, H. J. (2002). Psychological profiling
of sexual murders: An empirical model. International Journal of Offender Therapy and
Comparative Criminology. 46(3), 532-553. (Fig. 3). Sage Publications, Inc. Reprinted
with permission of Sage Publications, Inc.

Geographic Profiling

Although not a comprehensive approach to the profiling of crimes, geo-

graphic profiling is a discrete topic within the field that is focused on the geo-
222 Applied Criminal Psychology

graphic relevance of offense locations. The geographic examination of crime

is not a recent concept to the discipline of criminology (e.g. Brantingham &
Brantingham, 1981; Rengert & Wasilchick, 1985; Reppetto, 1974). Similarly,
the examination of offense localities to garner some insight about a perpe-
trator is not a recent innovation (Kind, 1987). However, with the surge of
interest in the development of criminal profiling, as well as computerized
mapping programs known as Geographic Information Systems (GIS), a rein-
vigoration of interest in the topic has developed under the conceptual label
of geographic profiling (Palermo & Kocsis, 2005). The objective of geographic
profiling is the analysis of related crime locations for the purpose of identi-
fying a specific region that may possess some relationship or nexus with the
perpetrator(s) of the offenses (Rossmo, 1997). The nature of the nexus be-
tween the identified geographic region and the offender can manifest itself in
a host of differing circumstances, including the general location of the offend-
er’s residence, workplace, or even the residence of a significant other party
(e.g. parents, girlfriend). The application of this information to assist in an
investigation is not unlike how other information in criminal profiles is used.
As a hypothetical example, a geographic profile may identify a region of
approximately two square miles containing three distinct suburbs.
Investigators can then use this information as a means by which suspects
may be prioritized for further investigation. That is, suspects who hold some
connection with the identified region, such as their home being situated with-
in any one of the three identified suburbs, can be prioritized for further
inquiry over other suspects who do not possess such a nexus with the identi-
fied region.
Analogous to the general area of criminal profiling there are a number of
rivaling approaches (e.g. Canter, 2004b; Levine, 2000; Rossmo, 2000;
Young, 2003) with respect to the calculations and measurements employed
in developing geographic profiles, each of which possesses its own rivaling
merits and limitations (Stangeland, 2005; van der Kemp & van Koppen,
2007). In spite of their differences, however, there are some fundamental
commonalties among the approaches. At a basic level, all approaches in-
volve the plotting of known offense locations on some form of map. Simi-
larly, all approaches operate on the premise that offense locations possess
some form of causality with the offender, who is typically not itinerant and
thus enjoys some stability in his or her own lifestyle, location, and movement
patterns. From these core principles, differing methods have been de-
veloped for how offense locations are mapped and used as points of mea-
surement from which the prediction area indicative of a geographic profile is
then developed.
The differences among these theorems for geographic profiling appear to
stem, to some extent, from the disciplinary origins of the differing propo-
 Criminal Profiling 223

nents as well as their reliance on geographic information systems for under-

taking certain computations. Thus, the work by Rossmo (2000) predomi-
nantly derives from disciplinary principles indicative of geography, whereas
the work of Canter (2004b) is more sourced in the disciplinary specialization
referred to as environmental psychology (Lundrigan & Canter, 2001). The meth-
ods advocated by Rossmo (2000) initially emphasized the use of GIS and
thus a semiautomated approach for developing geographic profiles; an
example of which is displayed in Figure 10-3. In contrast, Canter’s work
(2004b) originally used traditional mapping techniques; however, in subse-
quent years, this has developed to include GIS programs for generating geo-
graphic profiles.

Figure 10-3
GEOGRAPHIC PROFILE PREDICTION AREA
DEPICTED WITH PROBABILITIES VALUE

From: Rossmo, D.K. (1995). Place, space and police investigation: Hunting serial vio-
lent criminals. In: J.E. Eck and D.A. Weisburd (Eds.), Crime and Place: Crime Prevention
Studies, Vol. 4, pp. 217-235. Monsey, NYL Criminal Justice Press Reproduced with
permission of Criminal Justice Press.
224 Applied Criminal Psychology

THE VALIDITY AND UTILITY OF CRIMINAL PROFILING

Given the renown criminal profiling enjoys in popular media portrayals

(Boon, 1995; Herndon, 2007) and true crime literature (Britton, 1997, Cant-
er, 1994; Douglas & Oleshaker, 1995; Hazelwood & Michaud, 1999; McCra-
ry & Ramsland, 2003; Ressler & Shachtman, 1992; Vorpagel & Harrington,
1998), it is difficult to reconcile the paucity of scientifically grounded evi-
dence supporting the technique. This is not to assert that research into the
development of criminal profiling has progressed independently of consid-
erations concerning the fundamental validity of the technique. However,
only in approximately the past two decades have some concerted attempts
been made to test the accuracy (vis-à-vis validity) of profiles via scientifically
controlled experiments.
What is arguably the largest available source of evidence relied upon in
support of the merits of criminal profiling are anecdotal accounts (such as
those contained in true crime literature) in which profiling is used and al-
most invariably judged to be useful and therefore accurate. Unfortunately,
such accounts of profiling successes appear to have given rise to a phenom-
enon whereby the perceived benefits derived from the use of criminal pro-
files and thereby their continued use have come to be interpreted as a proxy
indicator of their accuracy (Poythress, Otto, Darkas & Starr, 1993). This cir-
cumstance has been referred to as the operational utilitarian argument (Kocsis,
2006). The development of this argument is ironically simply a manifestation
of the old saying “the proof is in the pudding.” Simply put, if criminal pro-
files were not deemed accurate and beneficial to police investigators, law
enforcement would not continue to use them. Because police investigators
continue to request profiles, this circumstance is cited as an indicator that
profiles must therefore be accurate ( Jeffers, 1992; Poythress et al., 1993).
Although the logic of the operational utilitarian argument is intuitively
appealing, its rationale relies on the assumption that perceptions concerning
profiles are, in fact, reliable. Unfortunately, a number of recent studies have
suggested otherwise and have revealed some troubling aspects regarding the
perceived merits of criminal profiles. Firstly, a study by Alison, Smith, and
Morgan (2003) demonstrated the ambiguity of information contained in pro-
files. In this particular study participants were asked to gauge the relative
merits of two profiles, one of which was genuine; the other was deliberately
contrived to be similar but inaccurate. Alarmingly, in examining the two pro-
files, participants judged both to be equally meritorious, indicating that even
an incorrect profile could be perceived to possess some merit. Possibly the
most confronting research to challenge the operational utilitarian argument
however arose from a series of studies that examined the relationship
between the belief (i.e. confidence) individuals possess, or were induced to
 Criminal Profiling 225

possess in criminal profiling, and their evaluations concerning the merit (i.e.
accuracy) of a profile (Kocsis, 2006). These studies found an incremental
relationship between belief in profiling and the perceived merits of a crimi-
nal profile. Thus, the more an individual believed in the value of criminal
profiling, the more meritorious a criminal profile was perceived to be.
These studies provide some troubling evidence that collectively serve to
suggest that the perceptions of criminal profiles (such as those from anecdo-
tal accounts) should not be relied on as a measure of their merit.

Quasi-Experimental Studies on Profiler Accuracy

At a cursory level, empirically testing the accuracy of criminal profiles
would seem to be a relatively straightforward task of comparing the predic-
tions contained in a criminal profile with the characteristics of the appre-
hended offender. Unfortunately, developing a suitably robust research meth-
odology wherein such measurements can be objectively undertaken is sur-
prisingly problematic. The difficulties are based partly on the diversity of the
information potentially to be found in criminal profiles and partly on the cir-
cumstances (i.e. different modes and complexity of differing crimes) under
which a criminal profile is sought. As a consequence, it is questionable how
methodologically robust and representative any study may be that endeav-
ors to combine and then measure data imbued with such potential vagaries.
A small number of quasi-experiments have been conducted that simulate
the profiling of a crime and thus endeavor to impartially test the abilities of
profilers, vis-à’-vis the accuracy of the profiles constructed by them. Accord-
ingly, through this experimental procedure, many of the aforementioned
methodological problems surrounding the evaluation of profiles are mini-
mized or avoided as participants profile the same crime within roughly the
same parameters. The first example of such an experiment occurred as a sub-
component of a study by Pinizzotto and Finkel (1990). This experiment com-
pared groups of various skill-based participants, including police detectives,
psychologists, students, and trained profilers, on a simulated profiling task of
a rape and a murder. Case files for a murder and a rape offence were pre-
sented to these participants who were then asked to predict (i.e. profile) the
characteristics of the probable offender for each of the crimes via a multiple-
choice questionnaire that itemized and thus quantified possible responses
(i.e. predicted characteristics). Both the rape and the murder cases had been
solved, with the respective offender convicted. The identity of the offenders
in terms of the correct responses to the multiple-choice questionnaires pre-
sented to the participants were known; consequently, the responses (i.e. the
profiled characteristics of the offenders) could be objectively scored for accu-
racy.
226 Applied Criminal Psychology

The findings of Pinizzotto and Finkel’s (1990) study were somewhat mixed
with the trained profilers surpassing the other groups in accurately predict-
ing (i.e. profiling) the characteristics of the offender in the rape case but not
in the murder case. Subsequent to their study, another series of studies adopt-
ing a similar experimental design further tested the capabilities of profilers
via a simulated profiling exercise requiring the prediction of an offender’s
characteristics via a multiple-choice questionnaire that could be objectively
scored (Kocsis, 2006). The overall findings of this research provide some ten-
tative support for the capabilities of profilers to accurately predict the char-
acteristics of the unknown offender at a generally superior standard to that
of the compared groups (Kocsis, 2007b).
The studies by Pinizzotto and Finkel (1990) and Kocsis (2007b) represent
promising beginnings in empirically testing the accuracy (i.e. validity) of pro-
filing. Although their findings are encouraging, they must nonetheless be
interpreted conservatively because further replication and exploration of
their findings will be needed in the future (e.g. Gogan, 2007; Hodges &
Jacquin, 2008). In this context, the research thus far should be viewed as
merely a tentative start in lending support to the potential of criminal profil-
ing. Unfortunately, however, these modest findings appear to have been long
surpassed by the apparent reputation and claims of accuracy that profiling
already seems to enjoy (Herndon, 2007).

The Utility of Criminal Profiles

In the wake of the paucity of scientific evidence attesting to the validity of
criminal profiles, one issue that occasionally seems to be overlooked is the
utility of profiling in assisting with the resolution of crime (Oleson, 1996).
Assuming that a criminal profile can, hypothetically, accurately predict var-
ious attributes about an offender does not necessarily imply that the knowl-
edge of these attributes will tangibly assist in the investigation and appre-
hension of the offender and thus effect some meaningful reduction in crime
(Farrington, 2007). Ironically, the evidence considering the utility of criminal
profiling is, arguably, equally as scant as that examining the accuracy of pro-
files. A large part of this problem is that identifying and thus quantifying util-
ity is a conceptually difficult task in terms of ascertaining precisely how a
profile may have been of some material assistance (Kocsis & Palermo, 2007).
Although anecdotal examples are readily available where profiles have been
used during the course of an investigation and, in retrospect, the predictions
of these profiles are viewed as corresponding with the apprehended offend-
er, how exactly these profiles assisted in apprehending the offender is not
always clear (Kocsis, 2007; Pinizzotto, 1984). This has led some in the field
of profiling to comment that to the best of their knowledge a profile has yet
to be directly instrumental in solving a crime (Ressler & Shachtman, 1992).
 Criminal Profiling 227

Nonetheless, an interesting source of information concerning the utility of

profiles can be found in the various surveys that have sought to gauge the sat-
isfaction police personnel have derived from the use of criminal profiles dur-
ing the course of an investigation (e.g. Copson, 1995; Jackson, van Koppen
& Herbrink, 1993; Pinizzotto, 1984; Trager & Brewster, 2001). It is important
to note, however, that these studies do not measure utility per se but rather
the surveyed usefulness of a profile by police personnel who have used them.
The common theme to emerge from these studies is that police personnel
generally consider criminal profiles beneficial and of some assistance, but
ironically, indications of precisely how the profiles were of assistance is less
clear.

PROFILERS AS EXPERT WITNESSES

Although the use of profiling in criminal investigations is well chronicled

(e.g. Britton, 1997; Canter, 1994; Douglas & Oleshaker, 1995; Hazelwood &
Michaud, 2001; Ressler & Shachtman, 1992), there have been some com-
paratively recent attempts to admit into evidence the testimony of profilers
in evaluating criminal behaviors. The general view from legal scholars on
this issue appears to be one of trepidation (Meyer, 2007; Ormerod, 1999;
Risinger & Loop, 2002), which is evidently shared by members of the judi-
ciary around the world when considering the admissibility of such evidence.
Judicial comment for example, from the United Kingdom on profiling has
opined: “psychological [i.e. criminal] profiling as an aid to police investiga-
tions is one thing, but its use as a means of proof in court is another” (R. v.
Guilfoyle, 2001, p. 68). Similar reservations concerning profiling and in par-
ticular some of its proponents were expressed in Australia where it was
observed that:
. . . courts must exercise constant vigilance to ensure that they are not unwittingly
misled. Amongst the many factors which may lead an expert witness into error is a
malady which, if encountered in a new car salesperson, might be described as gross
product enthusiasm. Some witnesses seem to become so fervid about the potential of
their chosen discipline that they lose sight of its limitations and are borne by their
enthusiasm into making claims that could not be supported by more sober and objec-
tive assessment. (R. v. Hillier, 2003, p. 10)

Within the United States, efforts to have the testimony of profilers admit-
ted into evidence has experienced a somewhat checkered reception because
testimony has either been excluded from the outset or initially admitted and
then subsequently disallowed upon appeal (Commonwealth of Pennsylvania v.
DiStefano, 1999; State v. Fortin, 1999; 2004). The present chapter does not
allow for a detailed exposition of the legal reasoning underpinning this cir-
cumstance. Suffice it to say, without delving too deeply into legal doctrine
228 Applied Criminal Psychology

such as general acceptance (Frye v. United States, 1923) or other criteria in the
form of the Federal Rules of Evidence (2004), the admission of criminal profil-
ing within the United States and abroad appears to be hampered by its inher-
ently probabilistic (i.e. speculative) nature. Within most western common
law legal systems there is an imperative to assess whether the probative value
of any posited evidence will outweigh any prejudicial impact of that testimo-
ny (Davis & Follette, 2002; Kirkpatrick, 1998). Simply put, western common
law legal systems chiefly function on the basis of the assessment of directly
pertinent factual information evident in the specific case before the court.
The obstacle confronting criminal profiling and the testimony that profilers
may offer is that they cannot, for example, sufficiently attest to the fact that
their predictions relate to the particular person charged and tried for a crime.
The testimony derived from profiling can only attest that the characteristics
of the probable offender match, or do not match, those of the accused. They
cannot however, unequivocally claim that due to any correspondence, or
lack thereof, the accused is likely guilty or innocent. For this reason the evi-
dence of profilers has in the main thus far been excluded and described as
“evidence intended to address guilt by likening a defendant to a profile or
stereotype of those likely to commit the crime in question” and as a conse-
quence “has great potential for introducing bias and error” (Davis & Follette,
2002, p. 152).
Perhaps in response to the apparent aversion of courts to admitting profil-
ing testimony, ways of introducing similar alternative testimony has increas-
ingly been explored. These alternative avenues appear to involve testimony
that seeks to avoid making inferences about the probable offender but
nonetheless provides some form of analysis of the behaviors evident in the
specific crime(s). Interestingly, this approach appears to have enjoyed, thus
far, some limited success in Canadian jurisdictions in terms of the admission
of such testimony (e.g. R. v. Ranger, 2003; R. v. Clark, 2004). However, these
alternatives have not gone unnoticed and have also attracted criticism as
merely being “a different suit on the same animal” and as “a distinction with-
out a difference” (Grezlak, 1999, p. 2). As a consequence, further examina-
tion and testing of the legal merits of this type of testimony in future legal
proceedings will invariably occur.

CONCLUSION

The technique of criminal profiling is indicative of a long-held fascination

the human race has had with attempting to understand criminal behaviors
and the perpetrators of crime. Although fictional analogies describing profil-
ing can be found in classical literature, historical examples involving the use
 Criminal Profiling 229

of some external expert, typically a mental health professional, to examine

crimes for the purpose of offering investigators some insight into the proba-
ble offender date back to the previous century.
In recent decades, there has been a significant increase in interest in the
development of criminal profiling techniques. This heightened interest has,
analogous to the field of personality theory, spawned a number of rivaling
schools of thought concerning how the prediction (i.e. profiling) of offender
characteristics from exhibited crime behaviors may be undertaken. At this
time there does not appear to be any clear indication of the best way to pro-
file crimes because each approach possesses its own inherent strengths and
weaknesses. What is increasingly apparent from research into the topic of
profiling however are the difficulties in assessing the fundamental merits of
profiling in terms of its validity and utility. Although some tentative empiri-
cal research has emerged to support the capabilities of profilers, these mod-
icums of evidence seem to be eclipsed by the favorable reputation the tech-
nique appears to enjoy universally.
In the wake of this apparent popularity it is perhaps unsurprising that in
recent years an increasing number of attempts to admit, in some capacity,
profiles into evidence for legal proceedings have occurred. In the judicial
arena at least, however, the scientific merits of criminal profiling appear to
have come under far more critical scrutiny than ever before and in this con-
text has generally been considered unsuitable as a reliable form of evidence
in the context of criminal proceedings.

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 Chapter Eleven

PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY

RICHARD N. KOCSIS

E xplaining the concept of psychological autopsy is not as easy as one

might expect. This difficulty appears to arise from the varying connota-
tions the term seems to imply. In one context, such as those in a coroner’s
investigation, psychological autopsy is commonly recognized as a mecha-
nism for assessing the likely circumstances that led to an individual's death.
In another context, psychological autopsy is recognized as a research para-
digm by which patterns in the perpetration of suicide may be studied
(Sanborn & Sanborn, 1976).1
Another factor clouding the clear understanding of the technique is the
variation in terminology used to refer to it, such as psychiatric autopsy, equivo-
cal death analysis or reconstructive psychological evaluations. The nuances that are
argued to justify these differences in terminology are debatable. For exam-
ple, Bendheim (1979) suggests that a psychiatric autopsy is different from a
psychological autopsy because it is inclusive of a psychiatric evaluation in-
cluding consideration of the deceased’s genetic history, environmental back-
ground, personal experiences, and history as determined by numerous
sources. Similarly, equivocal death analysis is suggested to be distinguished
by its examination of physical evidence and behaviors (Hazelwood, Dietz &
Burgess, 1982). However, Litman (1989) challenges the distinctions between
psychiatric and psychological autopsies as being little more than semantic in
nature. Similarly, the suggested differentiation of equivocal death analysis
appears derivative of the psychological autopsy concept and thus a similarly
questionable distinction (Ebert, 1987; Jacobs & Klein, 1993; Poythress, Otto,

1. There is also a third suggested use of the psychological autopsy as a quality assurance
mechanism when assessing the suitability of treatment programs subsequent to a patient com-
mitting suicide. Although an interesting application, this role appears to have achieved limit-
ed coverage in the published literature (e.g. Neil, Benesohn, Farber & Resnick, 1974.)

235
236 Applied Criminal Psychology

Darkes & Starr, 1993; Review of Navy Investigation of the USS Iowa
Explosion, 1989; Shneidman, 1969, 1994). Perhaps the most strident criti-
cism of such postulated distinctions comes from Ogloff and Otto (1993) who
contend that differences between psychiatric and psychological autopsy appear
to be based more on guild interests than on substantive differences in the
processes and objectives of the undertaken technique.
Setting aside these arguments, for conceptual ease, the technique in the
context of this chapter will simply be referred to as psychological autopsy
and within an operational application be conceived as:
a postmortem, postdictive psychological investigative procedure by which a person’s
circumstances and psychological state of mind at the time leading up to his/her death
are reconstructed, in order to help determine the manner of death. (Aumiller et al.,
2008, p. 74)

In light of such definitions, it is perhaps not surprising that psychological

autopsy has been likened to the reconstruction a historian or biographer
undertakes when offering some narrative of the probable thoughts and emo-
tions of a historical figure (Canter, 2005; Shaffer, Perlin, Schmidt & Himmel-
farb, 1972). Similarly, psychological autopsy is not unlike in conception a
form of indirect personality assessment (Meloy, 2004). In this respect,
although the operational application of psychological autopsy originally
emerged from coroner’s investigations it also appears to have developed
broader application as a general means to evaluate a deceased person’s state
of mind (e.g. Ebert, 1987). As an apparent consequence of this broader con-
ception, psychological autopsy has been used in a diverse range of circum-
stances. Some examples include aircraft crash investigations, evaluation of
staff behavior before death, homicide investigations, the mental status of
geriatric patients, and the consideration of persons of political importance
(e.g. Jones, 1977; Yanowitch, Mohler & Nichols, 1972; Neill et al., 1979;
Bendheim, 1979; Selkin & Loya, 1979).

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY PROCESS

Despite the renown and use psychological autopsy seems to enjoy ( Jacobs
& Klein, 1993), it is surprising that it does not appear, at present, to feature
uniformly recognized procedures in terms of precisely how the technique is
to be undertaken. The term psychological autopsy describes as much a goal
of inquiry as it does a tangible process (Ogloff & Otto, 1993). This is not to
imply that the overall process of undertaking a psychological autopsy does
not involve any coherent structure, but rather that, the process of a psycho-
logical autopsy in collating and then evaluating information about a de-
 Psychological Autopsy 237

ceased person appears to be somewhat varied. A number of procedural mod-

els for undertaking a psychological autopsy have been proposed over the
years, however (e.g. Shneidman, 1969; Snider, Hane & Berman, 2006). One
of the most thorough expositions for conducting a psychological autopsy is
that proposed by Ebert (1987), and this appears in the Appendix to this chap-
ter.
Irrespective of the particular procedural model adopted, there appear to
be a number of underlying generic commonalties that can be discerned from
the various advocated procedures in undertaking a psychological autopsy.
First and foremost, the technique involves the collection of information
about the deceased person from a wide variety of sources. It is in the range
of sources and the extent of information examined that a substantial degree
of variation occurs. Some common sources of information may include inter-
views with the parents of the deceased; the spouse or partner of the
deceased; or work colleagues, friends, or the treating physician of the
deceased, or a combination of these. In addition to interviews, psychological
autopsies may also draw upon a wide range of archival sources of data about
the deceased, including, but not limited to, medical, school, police, and mil-
itary records.
From the collation of information from these differing sources, various
preliminary attributes concerning the deceased are identified. Thus, the sec-
ond general phase of a psychological autopsy typically involves the evalua-
tion of a number of common factors. A few examples include the general
mental status and psychological history of the deceased, any antecedent
events or possible stress factors in the life of the deceased, and possible
motives as to why the deceased may have committed suicide (Ebert, 1987;
Jacobs & Klein, 1993). With the initial determination of these issues about the
deceased considered, the third and typically final phase of a psychological
autopsy largely appears to be guided by the actual purpose for undertaking
the technique. As will be discussed shortly, one well-known use of psycho-
logical autopsy is in assisting a coroner to classify an individual's death in
equivocal (uncertain) circumstances. In this context, the issues under exami-
nation largely center around the likely intention of the deceased to actively
and consciously bring about his or her own demise. The precise procedural
parameters concerning how such determinations are ultimately made vary
and are again influenced by the particular circumstances of each matter
under consideration in combination with the clinical judgment of the indi-
vidual(s) undertaking the psychological autopsy.
Finally, the procedure concerning how the evaluations inherent to a psy-
chological autopsy are ultimately arrived at is also somewhat variable. Some
authors appear to advocate that the process be undertaken by a single indi-
vidual ( Jacobs & Klein-Benheim, 1995; Schlesinger, 2006); others suggest a
238 Applied Criminal Psychology

collaborative approach whereby colleagues may review each other’s conclu-

sion, thus offering a final determination arrived at through a process of con-
sensus in opinion (Litman, Curphey, Shneidman, Farberow & Tabachnick,
1963). A good collection of sample psychological autopsies that serve to illus-
trate the technique in an operational context of coroners’ investigations can
be found in Shneidman and Faberow (1976).

Psychological Autopsy in an Operational Context

The coining of the term psychological autopsy is generally credited to
Litman and colleagues (1963) and their endeavors to assist the L.A. County
Coroner’s Office in the examination of persons found dead in equivocal cir-
cumstances (Shneidman, 1981). One of the key tasks of coroners is to render
some determination as to the mode of death of a deceased person. This
determination within the United States generally follows a system of catego-
rizing the circumstance of a death as being attributable to either natural caus-
es, homicide, accidental death, suicide, or a circumstance that cannot be
established (Shneidman, 1981). However, significant difficulties arise in per-
forming this task reliably when circumstances surrounding an individual’s
death are ambiguous, or what is more technically referred to as equivocal in
nature. Indeed, Litman and coworkers (1963, p. 102) describe such cases as
being where “suicide is a possibility but in which there could be more than
one interpretation and therefore, the decision is uncertain and doubtful.”
The hazards with incorrectly classifying an individual's circumstance of
death are well-recognized. These problems appear to begin when the bound-
aries of medical science (e.g. pathology, toxicology) are reached and there-
after assessment of the psychological factors inherent to the circumstances
surrounding the death require consideration. For example, both Curphey
(1968) and Shneidman (1981) warn of the particular difficulties in classifying
circumstances of death related to the ingestion of tranquilizers or barbitu-
rates, or both. A toxicology examination can, for example, ascertain that the
mode of death was due to a lethal overdose of a particular drug that induced
respiratory failure, but the toxicology examination cannot necessarily estab-
lish whether the deceased knowingly consumed the particular amount of
drug to deliberately induce their death. Compounding these problems are
potential misperceptions that can innocently arise among the coroner’s staff.
For example, Jobes, Berman, and Josselson (1986) found a bias in coroners
who unjustifiably classify certain circumstances of death as suicide, such as
those in which individuals were playing Russian Roulette or were simply
identified as suffering from psychosis.
In light of these problems with the classification of death, particularly in
equivocal circumstances, one of the earliest operational applications of psy-
 Psychological Autopsy 239

chological autopsy was realized. As noted by Litman (1984), the pivotal issue
in the evaluation of an equivocal death, and whether the circumstances are
suggestive of suicide as opposed to some other cause, largely centers around
the probable intention of the deceased. Thus, pivotal to the psychological
autopsy in this context is considering whether the deceased appreciated and
was knowingly cognizant of his or her self-destructive behavior. Evaluation
of this element of intention, however, is neither a simplistic categorical issue
nor as easy or straightforward as one might expect. Specifically, careful con-
sideration needs to be given to the extent to which a deceased may have
intended his or her own death. In adjudicating on these concepts,
Shneidman (1981) indicates that an intentional death is one in which “the
deceased plays a direct conscious role in effecting their own demise.”
Unfortunately, complicating the assessment of intention are situations in
which the deceased may exhibit what Shneidman (1981) refers to as some
“sub-intentional” or unconscious role in effecting their own death.
An illustration of the complexity associated with these issues can be seen
in the hypothetical scenario proposed by Litman (1984) wherein an individ-
ual places a gun to their head and then shoots themself. An autopsy of the
deceased would likely determine that the cause of death was a gunshot
wound to the head. The exhibited behaviors of this circumstance would also
normally suggest that the intention of the deceased was to commit suicide.
Similarly, it can be seen that voluntarily placing a loaded gun to one’s head
is a harmful act to an individual’s own welfare. However, mitigating these
factors may be evidence that the individual actually intended to live even
though engaging in such action. For example, the deceased may not have
believed that the gun was actually loaded. Alternatively, the deceased may
have been engaging in a party trick, pretending to play Russian Roulette be-
lieving that when the trigger was pulled the revolver (i.e. the gun) would ro-
tate onto an empty chamber and not the one that actually contained the bul-
let. If such issues were established, then the death would in fact be more sug-
gestive of an accident than a suicide.
One key avenue by which the intent of the deceased may be ascertained
comes from an analysis of behavioral features inherent in his or her life that
may be suggestive of suicidal intent. A variety of studies have found various
commonly recurring premonitory and prodromol indicators within individ-
uals who commit suicide (e.g. Faberow, 1968; Farberow & Shneidman, 1961;
Jacobs & Klein, 1993; Roy, 1981). In this context, the evaluative process
inherent to psychological autopsy in the operational context to assist a coro-
ner’s investigation appears to be oriented toward determining the congru-
ence, or otherwise, with identifiable risk factors associated with the perpe-
tration of suicide. Generally, the greater prevalence of known suicide risk
factors concerning the deceased, the more suggestive of possible suicide it
240 Applied Criminal Psychology

may be. Conversely, the fewer or absence of such risk factors is less sugges-
tive of an intention to commit suicide, and thus the individual’s death may
be attributable to another reason such as an accident.

Psychological Autopsy as a Research Mechanism

As previously indicated, psychological autopsy also enjoys an alternate
role as a mechanism for the study of etiologic patterns inherent in the per-
petration of suicide. This role of psychological autopsy as a research tool is
in no way trivial and in some respects the volume of scholarly literature con-
cerning psychological autopsy in this capacity rivals that of the technique
used in an operational context. Interestingly, although the legacy of the oper-
ational use of psychological autopsy dates back to the work of Litman and
associates (1963), indications of the research application of the technique in
the study of self-destructive behavior generally are suggested to date as far
back as the 1920s (Isometsa, 2001).
Suicide is an issue of concern for the medical, and mental health profes-
sions and for the general community alike. Despite the significance of this
phenomenon, the precise reasons as to why individuals continue to commit
suicide remain elusive ( Jacobs & Klein-Benhelm, 1995). This circumstance is
not altogether unsurprising, however, because research into the underlying
drives associated with suicide is difficult as potentially the most valuable
source of data (i.e. the deceased person) cannot be interviewed. When there
is such an impasse, the psychological autopsy is the method by which vari-
ous antecedents to the commission of suicide can be studied. Thus the afore-
mentioned methodological impasse can, to some extent, be overcome (Ca-
vanagh, Carson, Sharpe & Lawrie, 2003).
Isometsa (2001) has classified the research into suicide using psychological
autopsy as falling into one of two broadly conceived generations. The first
generation is generally characterized by studies that provide qualitatively
rich descriptions of self-destructive behavior patterns but that are also, unfor-
tunately, often imbued with various methodological limitations. The second
generation of studies, however, is characterized by a higher use of case-con-
trol methodological designs or use of standardized interviewing procedures,
or both. Although a marked improvement, this second generation of
research is not without its limitations. Further complicating the suicide
research that employs the psychological autopsy method are some generic
problems with respect to the conceptual parameters of how variables (i.e.
certain behaviors etc) are uniformly measured. For example, the communi-
cation of an individual’s intent to commit suicide represents a commonly
agreed indicator of suicidal intent. Rudestam (1971) examined the commu-
nication of suicidal intent and found that 62 percent of persons who com-
mitted suicide communicated their intent. Unfortunately, the problem that
 Psychological Autopsy 241

arises from such research is the potential discordance among differing stud-
ies as to what is commonly considered or measured as communication of the
individual’s intent to commit suicide (Isometsa, 2001).
Notwithstanding these issues, psychological autopsy as a research tool has
contributed to the study and identification of some common precursors in
the perpetration of suicide. As previously indicated, these precursors and
common variables can be beneficial in anticipating and deciphering circum-
stances of suicide (Shneidman, 1981). In one of the most thorough reviews of
research utilizing psychological autopsy and encompassing a sample pool of
154 papers, Cavanagh and associates (2003) concluded that the strongest
variable associated with the perpetration of suicide was the presence of men-
tal disorder (see also Hawton et al., 1998). The predominant pathology is the
presence of depression (Appleby, Cooper, Amos & Faragher, 1999; Aranto,
Demeter, Rihmer & Somogyi, 1988; Beskow, 1979; Cheng, 1995; Foster,
Gillespie and McClelland, 1997; Lesage et al., 1994; Shaffer, et al., 1996).
Other common disorders associated with the perpetration of suicide include
alcoholism and schizophrenia (Hawton et al., 1998). Furthermore, a high
comorbidity of such disorders have also been clearly observed across the
research findings (Conwell et al., 1996; Foster et al., 1997; Henriksson et al.,
1993; Isometsa, 2001).
In addition to recurring psychopathologies, psychological autopsy
research has also revealed a number of demographic patterns. Thus, suc-
cessful perpetrators of suicide, in comparison with failed attempts, are twice
as likely to be male than female (Clark & Horton-Deutsch, 1992). Further-
more, simply being male, having a history of past suicide attempts, having a
nonsupportive partner and a variety of psychosocial factors (Gould, Fisher,
Parides, Flory & Shaffer, 1996) have all been found to be highly significant
indicia for an increased likelihood of suicide in adult life. Finally, sickness or
poor health have also been found to be notable risk factors for suicide among
the elderly (Carney, Rich, Beerke & Fowler, 1994; Henriksson et al., 1995).

CAUTIONS AND CONCERNS SURROUNDING

PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY

Although the reputation and use of psychological autopsy has steadily

grown, this progress has not gone without reservations being expressed by
some commentators (e.g. Canter, 2005; Ogloff & Otto, 1993). The foremost
concern is possibly its fundamental validity, particularly in the context of its
operational application in the assessment of equivocal deaths. Indeed, well
over three decades ago Shaffer and colleagues (1972, p. 309) poignantly
noted that in psychological autopsy there is:
242 Applied Criminal Psychology

. . . the need to explain phenomenon on a plausible, causal, usually psychodynamic

basis. Unfortunately, the plausibility of any such explanation is no guarantee of its
validity.

In this context, psychological autopsy is somewhat analogous to hypothe-

sis testing wherein plausible explanations are generated to explain observed
phenomena. However, simply because an espoused hypothesis is intuitively
appealing does not necessarily imply that it is valid. Some support for this
proposition emerges from the work of Canter (2005), who challenges some
of the long-held prodromal cues regarded as indicative of the perpetration of
suicide and relied upon when undertaking psychological autopsy of equivo-
cal deaths. The various concerns surrounding psychological autopsy can be
broadly summarized into two categories. First, there are concerns of a
methodological nature principally relating to the procedures and how psy-
chological autopsies are undertaken. Second, there are concerns of a con-
ceptual nature relating to the validity and essential accuracy of the evalua-
tions derived through the adoption of psychological autopsy techniques.
Both of these categories will be discussed in turn.

Methodological Concerns
Possibly the most examined methodological concern relating to psycho-
logical autopsies in the published literature relates to the reliability and inter-
pretation of the collated information (Barraclough, Bunch, Nelson &
Sainsbury, 1974; Fisher & Shaffer, 1984). There are numerous facets to this
seemingly single issue. First is the reliability of information garnered from
informants in a state of bereavement, such as parents mourning the death of
a child. Such information must be considered with caution. That is, to what
extent may the perceptions of the deceased be biased, influenced, or distort-
ed due to this emotional state? Unfortunately, Barraclough and colleagues
(1974) clearly forewarn of two distinct possibilities that may be encountered
with informants in this circumstance, or more specifically the information
such parties may provide. First, informants may exaggerate the presence of
any symptomology or even mental disorder due to the suicide. Alternatively,
informants may glorify the deceased and thus minimize or deny the presence
of any irregularity or disorder.
Moving beyond possible perceptual distortions due to bereavement,
another concern is that informants may provide unreliable information due
to simple ignorance or some ulterior motive. Thus, informants may be gen-
uinely ignorant and thus simply unaware of certain factors that may be pre-
sent within the deceased (Hawton et al., 1998). One hypothetical example is
parents who may be unaware of their child’s history of recreational drug use.
Unfortunately, a more contrived alternative is that informants may have
some vested interest in deliberately distorting, manipulating, or withholding
 Psychological Autopsy 243

information (Selkin & Loya, 1979). The predominant motive for informants
to deliberately distort information emerges when there is a vested interest
concerning the payment of a life insurance policy (Selkin, 1994). Many life
insurance policies do not pay claims in the circumstance of intentional acts
of death such as suicide. This circumstance therefore generates an incentive
for some informants to distort information in an effort to ensure that the
demise of the deceased is determined to be something other than suicide.
In addition to the previously mentioned issues there are also procedural
concerns surrounding the reliability of gathered information. Despite the his-
tory of psychological autopsy, the published literature is surprisingly bereft
of indications concerning what time delays may have on an informant’s rec-
ollection and therefore at what time juncture they should be interviewed.
Similarly, guidelines as to the optimal method for the collection of informa-
tion and what weightings, if any, different sources of information should be
given is also absent from the literature. As a simple illustration of this issue,
in the circumstance of trying to establish the presence of various sympto-
mologies in a deceased prior to their death, whose perception is more reli-
able — that of the deceased’s parents, the spouse or partner of the deceased,
or a close friend?
Finally, one surprising source of concern involving psychological autopsy
does not relate to informants per se but rather to the individual(s) undertak-
ing the psychological autopsy. Issues of concern in this circumstance relate
to disciplinary perspectives of those undertaking the psychological autopsy
and any emotional empathy that may develop toward grieving relatives of a
deceased. For example, Gavin and Rogers (2006) argue that there is an
emphasis in psychological autopsies to focus on links between mental illness
and suicide that potentially limit the conceptual scope of the evaluation in
not giving adequate consideration to the deceased’s social environment,
which may also account for his or her death. Alternatively, Litman and asso-
ciates (1963) have observed the emotional rapport investigators often devel-
op with members of a victim’s family and how sympathy can readily arise
and then innocently interfere with judgments concerning the deceased.
Similarly, Selkin and Loya (1979) have stressed the need for impartiality and
a nonpartisan role by those conducting a psychological autopsy. Perhaps one
of the most ardent comments on this point comes from Shneidman (1994, p.
76) who opines that psychological autopsy cannot be properly undertaken by
“a detective, a prosecutor, or a ‘hired gun’ psychologist (or psychiatrist).”

Solutions
In light of these concerns a number of countermeasures have been sug-
gested over the years in an attempt to minimize or nullify these problems.
For instance, to address the issue of empathy among investigators, Litman
244 Applied Criminal Psychology

and coworkers (1963) have suggested a review process whereby determina-

tions are checked by colleagues who have had minimal or no personal con-
tact with informants. Similarly, to counter some of the potential distortions
arising from informants, both Dregne (1982) and Hawton and colleagues
(1998) have emphasized the need for interviewing multiple informants. Ad-
ditionally, cross-referencing gathered information with official records when-
ever possible is also strongly advocated to ensure consistency and thus im-
prove the reliability of gathered information. Other nominated measures
include the use of standardized (i.e. structured) protocols for interviewing
and data collection (e.g. Blau & Alberts, 2004; Rudestam, 1979; Werlang &
Botega, 2003) as well as the use of psychometric instruments. For example,
Shaffer and colleagues (1972) have suggested the use of the Katz Adjustment
Scales (KAS)-R forms in which relatives can complete the instrument and,
via the scales of the KAS, provide information about a deceased’s personal-
ity attributes in a more quantifiable and replicable manner.
Finally, some research endeavors have also been undertaken to address
some of the procedural concerns. A study by Brent, Pepper, Kolko, and
Zelenak (1988) found evidence to indicate that information furnished by par-
ents concerning perceived symptomology could be regarded as reliable.
Additionally, irrespective of a two- to six-month time span, the provision of
this information by the parents of a deceased was still found to be reliable.

Conceptual Concerns
Psychological autopsy has been described as “a rather felicitous title for
the amalgamation of a wide variety of information and conjecture pertaining
to the dead subject” (Shaffer et al., 1972, p. 309). Although a somewhat rue-
ful perspective, this statement justifiably highlights that simply because a
recurring group of features can be identified within previously studied
groups does not necessarily imply that these features can be used validly in
some predictive capacity. Although studied samples of individuals who have
committed suicide may have been found to commonly suffer from depres-
sion, for example, this in itself does not necessarily suggest that an individ-
ual who suffers from depression and is found dead in equivocal circum-
stances committed suicide. Thus, there are grounds to ponder the funda-
mental capacity of psychological autopsies in accurately explaining the inten-
tions of a deceased person.
As previously mentioned, Canter (2005) challenges some of the tradition-
al concepts in determining an equivocal death as a suicide. One example is
that suicide will necessarily have many identifiable antecedents (e.g. Shneid-
man, 1969) and instead suggests that suicide may be committed in a seem-
ingly spontaneous or surprise manner (Canter, 2005). Similarly, the concept
 Psychological Autopsy 245

that most individuals intending to commit suicide communicate their inten-

tions in some capacity (e.g. Faberow & Shneidman, 1961; Shneidman,
Faberow & Litman, 1976) or that suicide notes left by deceased persons will
provide some coherent explanation for why they committed suicide are sim-
ilarly questioned by Canter (2005).
Unfortunately, research into the ultimate validity of psychological autop-
sies in determining a deceased’s intention in an equivocal death will always
be hampered by the logistical factors of the circumstance. Whereas the effec-
tiveness of a drug can be assessed by measuring the reduction in a particular
disease, an analogous evaluation of psychological autopsy is not possible
because the precise answer is lost with the deceased. Thus, the definitive rea-
soning and intentions of the deceased cannot ever be established because
they are not alive to provide a definitive criterion on which accuracy and
thus validity of the psychological autopsy can be measured.
Nonetheless, some promising research has been undertaken or proposed
in an effort to remedy some of these concerns. In examining reported symp-
tomology between suicide victims and attempted suicide inpatients, Brent
and coworkers (1993) found encouraging results in terms of the validity of
diagnosis obtained through psychological autopsy procedures. Similarly,
Ogloff and Otto (1993) offer some useful suggestions wherein the validity of
psychological autopsy procedures could, to some extent, be examined in the
future. One suggestion is a quasi-experimental trial of subjects examining an
equivocal death. The particular case under examination would involve a
matter in which the correct mode of death had been previously determined.
Consequently, subjects could evaluate the case concerning the equivocal
death. The accuracy of their conclusions could be determined by their con-
cordance with the previously ascertained correct mode of death, thus pro-
viding some tentative indications of validity through measurement.

PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY AND THE LEGAL SYSTEM

In comparison to other psychological techniques, psychological autopsy

appears to occupy a somewhat paradoxical position in terms of the admis-
sion of its testimony within the U.S. legal system. Despite concerns sur-
rounding a paucity of scientific evidence to support the merits of psycholog-
ical autopsy (e.g. Ogloff & Otto, 1993), testimony derived from the technique
has increasingly gained admission in U.S. legal proceedings, including prece-
dent-setting appellate court decisions.
Judicial consideration of psychological autopsy in jurisdictions outside the
United States, such as the United Kingdom or Canada, appear somewhat
limited. In instances in which psychological autopsy, or concepts relative to
246 Applied Criminal Psychology

the technique, have been considered (e.g. Chard, 1972; MacIntosh, 1997; R.
v. Valley, 1986; R. v. Weightman, 1991), the judiciary appears to demonstrate a
disinclination to admit such evidence. Possibly the most incisive decision in
which the specific merits of psychological autopsy were considered within
the jurisdiction of the United Kingdom was in the judgment of R v. Guilfoyle
(2001) in which the proffered testimony based on the technique was reject-
ed, with the court commenting that:
Psychiatric evidence as to the state of mind of the defendant, witness or deceased
falling short of mental illness may, of course, as we have said, be admissible in some
cases when based, for example, on medical records and/or recognised criteria. . . .
But the present academic status of psychological autopsies is not, in our judgment,
such as to permit them to be admitted as a basis for expert opinion before a jury. (R.
v. Guilfoyle, 2001, p. 68)

Irrespective of the legal position in the United Kingdom or Canada, with-

in the U.S. legal system psychological autopsy as a concept appears to enjoy
a rather well-established history, particularly in the context of civil litigation
(e.g. Clark, 1988; Dregne, 1982; Lichter, 1981). Indeed, examples of the psy-
chological autopsy concept can be found in U.S. case law dating back to the
1930s and the intention of a deceased in the context of a “gift in contemplation
of death” (e.g. United States v. Wells, 1931; Neal v. Commissioner, 1931).
The scope of the present chapter unfortunately does not allow for a
detailed discussion of U.S. case law pertaining to psychological autopsy. A
good overview of the apparent judicial reasoning surrounding the admission
of the technique in the U.S. legal system can be found in Ogloff and Otto
(1993). As these authors note, there are numerous examples in which, in the
context of civil proceedings, U.S. courts have admitted testimony derived
from psychological autopsy. The context of these cases includes matters such
as workers compensation, medical malpractice, and insurance claims (e.g.
Campbell v. Young Motor Company, 1984; Evans v. Provident Life & Accident Ins.
Co., 1990). Interestingly however, U.S. civil jurisdictions appear not to have
allowed evidence derived from psychological autopsy when the testimony
relates to matters of testamentary capacity and intestate succession (e.g.
Estate of Skulina, 1988).
The admission of testimony derived from psychological autopsy within
criminal proceedings has not been as clear or as readily accepted as it has
been in the civil arena. Indeed, a number of decisions concerning the admis-
sibility of psychological autopsy testimony in criminal proceedings have seen
this evidence rejected by the courts (Arizona v. Montijo, 1989). However, what
has been suggested as a precedent setting decision arose in the case of Jackson
v. State of Florida (1989) in which the Florida Appellate Court upheld an ear-
lier decision to admit testimony derived from a psychological autopsy
( Jacobs & Klein-Benheim, 1995). In this case, and in direct response to chal-
 Psychological Autopsy 247

lenges concerning the admissibility of the testimony derived from psycho-

logical autopsy, the Florida Court held that:
We perceive no distinction between the admission of the expert's opinion in this case
and, for example, admitting psychiatric opinion evidence to establish a defendant's
sanity at the time of committing an offense or to prove the competency of an indi-
vidual at the time of executing a will. (Jackson v. State of Florida (1989)

Thus, within civil proceedings in the United States, and with some excep-
tions, there appears to be an acceptance of psychological autopsy as an
admissible form of expert testimony. However, within criminal jurisdictions
there appears to be some reluctance by the courts to admit testimony derived
from the technique, with the exception of the decision of Jackson v. Florida
(1989).

CONCLUSION

The concept of psychological autopsy is, arguably, a remarkably old tech-

nique (Isometsa, 2001). Contemporary conceptions of the technique gener-
ally see its use in varying, yet complementary, roles as both an operational
mechanism to examine the mental status of a deceased party (particularly in
circumstances of equivocal death) and as a method to study and understand
epidemiological patterns in the perpetration of suicide. In both roles the
technique generally appears to enjoy varying degrees of success (Isometsa,
2001). In addition to these functions, numerous authors have also noted the
vicarious therapeutic benefits that often arise from the use of psychological
autopsy with respect to interviewees such as grieving relatives of the
deceased (e.g. Beskow, Runeson & Asgard, 1991; Diller, 1979; Sanborn &
Sanborn, 1976).
Notwithstanding the apparent growth and success of the technique, there
is a range of notable concerns about both the methodological reliability of
the employed procedures and the validity of the conclusions drawn from
psychological autopsies. Despite these reservations, the technique, with a few
exceptions, appears to enjoy a good standing within the U.S. civil legal sys-
tem in which expert testimony based on the technique has been admitted.
However, the admissibility of psychological autopsy in U.S. criminal pro-
ceedings has not been as readily embraced despite a notable precedent that
may clear a path for its further use in this jurisdiction in the future.
248 Applied Criminal Psychology

Appendix

PSYCHOLOGICAL AUTOPSY GUIDELINES

1. Alcohol History
a. Collect family history
b. Research amount ingested regularly
c. Research evidence of binge drinking
d. Research evidence of blackouts (known from friends, family, acquaintances)
e. Research evidence of driving under the influence of alcohol
f. Research evidence of alcohol-related offenses
g. Research evidence of family problems (alcohol related)
h. Research evidence of work difficulties connected to alcohol
i. Research evidence of blood level (BAL) g/L at time of death
2. Suicide Notes
a. Examine content
b. Examine style
c. Have handwriting expert review writing style
3. Writing
a. Review any past writing by the deceased
b. Peruse any diary of the deceased
c. Examine school papers for topics of essays or term papers
d. Read letters to friends, family, coworkers, acquaintances
4. Books
a. Examine books of the deceased
i. Look for books on the occult, life after death, death
ii. Look for actual books on suicide
b. Assess books checked out of local libraries
5. Relationship Assessments
a. Interview people who knew the deceased, including
i. Close friends
ii. Close intimate heterosexual or homosexual companions
iii. Acquaintances
iv. Mother, father, siblings
v. Coworkers and supervisors
vi. Other relatives
vii. Physicians and/or mental health professionals
viii. Teachers
b. Construct level of intimacy on the basis of discussions with “close” friends
c. Assess people’s reactions to the victim’s death
d. Secure a history of marriages and divorces
e. Examine relationship with children
f. Look for anger directed toward particular people

From: Ebert, B.W. (1987). Guide to conducting a psychological autopsy. Professional

Psychology: Research and Practice, 18, 52–56.
 Psychological Autopsy 249

6. Marital Relationship
a. Note any significant problems that may have made the deceased person depressed
b. Look for history of extramarital relationships
c. Assess the overall quality of the relationship
7. Mood
a. Identify mood fluctuations
b. Look for symptoms of depressions
i. Weight loss
ii. References to depression
iii. Problems with memory
iv. Fatigue
v. Sleep disturbances
vi. Withdrawal
vii. Decreased libido
viii. Appetite and/or taste changes
ix. Constipation and diarrhea
c. Look for mood indicators during last few days
i. Interview friends and family
ii. Interview anyone surrounding the deceased
8. Psychosocial Stressors (note and chart importance on Holmes & Rahe Scale factors)
a. Recent loss: death of people or pets
b. Relationship separations: divorce, breakups of significant relationships
c. Loss of job
d. Legal and financial problems
e. Demotion, promotion, and so on
f. Reaction to stressors
g. Move to a new location
9. Presuicidal Behavior
a. Giving away important possessions
b. Paying up insurance policies
c. Payment of debts
d. Arrangements for children and pets
e. Sudden order in deceased's life
f. Change or initial creation of a will
10. Language
a. Identify any specific references to suicide (deceased may have stated, “Have a party
in remembrance of me,” or “You won’t have to worry about me anymore”)
b. Note any changes in language before suicide
c. Analyze language (tapes, recollections of conversations, writing) for morbid content
11. Drugs Used
a. Identify all drugs used by deceased
b. Assess interactional effects of legal and illegal drugs in use
250 Applied Criminal Psychology

12. Medical History

a. Review complete medical history
b. Note any unusual symptoms or diagnoses
c. Note any terminal illnesses or diagnoses
13. Reflective Mental Status Exam of Deceased's Condition Before Death
a. Orientation
b. Memory
c. Attention
d. Concentration
e. Mood and affect
f. Hallucinations or delusions
g. Cognition, IQ
h. Language
i. Judgment
14. Psychological History
a. Look for previous suicide attempts (type, method)
b. Assess reason for treatment if involved in therapy
c. Research evidence of depression, manic depression (bipolar disorder)
d. Research past psychiatric hospitalizations
e. Examine diagnoses
f. Examine evidence of impulsive behavior
g. Examine any recent or past psychological tests (e.g. was the victim given the
Rorschach and was the suicide constellation served via the Exner system?)
15. Laboratory Studies
a. Examine ballistics
b. Evaluate powder burns on hands and body
16. Coroner’s Report
a. Conduct complete drug screen
b. Identify any poisons
c. Read for detailed description of physical functioning/health of deceased at time of
death
17. Motive Assessment
a. Make a chart divided four ways: Murder, Suicide, Accident, and Natural, recording
data to support each as it is uncovered
b. Report the possible reasons for suicide
c. Report the possible reasons why the subject could have been murdered (identify
enemies, illicit activities)
18. Reconstruction of Events Occurring on the Day Before Deceased's Death
a. Make a step-by-step chart of subject’s movements and activities
b. Form a chronological history of the victim that immediately precedes death
19. Assess Feelings Regarding Death as Well as Preoccupations and Fantasies
 Psychological Autopsy 251

20. Military History

a. Look for evidence of difficulty adjusting, such as letters of counseling (LOC), letters
of reprimand (LOR), Article 15 action (A15), or court-martial proceedings (Note:
A15 is a form of nonjudicial punishment for offenses not serious enough to warrant
a court-martial and include repeated lateness, driving under the influence of alco-
hol, sleeping on duty, or negligence on duty. Punishment from an A15 can include
reduction in rank, fines, or removal from duty.)
b. Attempt to secure job ratings (airman promotion rating and officer effectiveness rat-
ing)
c. Look for decorations or awards
d. Notice whether deceased was in a combat zone at any time
e. Look for evidence of posttraumatic stress disorder in Vietnam veterans
f. Determine the number of assignments and which were at the request of the victim
21. Death History of Family
a. Examine history for suicide by other family members
b. List immediate deceased family members and their mode of death
22. Family History
a. Identify family members and relationships with deceased
b. Examine the socieconomic status of family
c. Identify any conflicts that occurred before death of the victim
23. Employment History
a. Identify number and types of jobs (high-risk work may indicate the existence of
subintentional behavior for quite some time)
b. Look for repetitive problems
c. Assess whether any problems existed before death (e.g. coworker conflict, failure
to progress as planned)
d. Note any disciplinary action
24. Educational History
a. Assess educational level
b. Identify any problems with teachers or subjects
c. Note special interests or topics (e.g. in particular, look for special interests in death)
25. Familiarity With Methods of Death
a. Examine belongings for guns, knives (e.g. the deceased may have had five or six
loaded weapons around his or her house regularly)
b. Look for lethal drugs
c. Note deceased’s interest in and knowledge about weapons
26. Police Report
a. Critical facts will be obtained by review of the police investigation
b. Pay special attention to ballistics data
252 Applied Criminal Psychology

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 Chapter Twelve

CRISIS NEGOTIATION

JAMES S. H ERNDON

O ver the past forty years or so, the techniques and practice of negotiation
have been applied to crisis situations confronted by law enforcement
personnel. The early beginnings are generally traced back to the New York
Police Department (NYPD) in the 1970s, to events in the world that tended
to feature hostage taking as a key element of criminal and political behavior.
From infrequent use to standard practice, crisis negotiation has become com-
monplace in law enforcement. The context, content, and process of crisis
negotiation will be broadly considered in this chapter.
Because of the extensive literature on the topics of crisis/hostage negotia-
tion and space limitations in a chapter such as this, the approach taken here-
in is to organize the material according to distinct subtopics. Each subtopic
will be briefly covered, paying particular attention to information that may
be useful for those interested in applied criminal psychology. Reference cita-
tions at the chapter’s end should be helpful in further exploring the many
aspects of crisis/hostage negotiation.
Throughout the chapter, the terms crisis negotiation, hostage negotiation,
and crisis/hostage negotiation will be used interchangeably. This is often the
case in the literature cited. Crisis intervention is also a term that is frequent-
ly paired with negotiation. The use of these terms, which is reflective of
changes in philosophy and practice as the field evolved, should be clear
when taken in the context of article, chapter, or book cited. A barricade sit-
uation is one in which a subject refuses to come out, sometimes with or with-
out hostages. Hostages (persons held against their will as a form of barter)
play a key role in negotiation considerations. Unless otherwise stated, nego-
tiator refers to appropriately trained and duly authorized police personnel.

257
258 Applied Criminal Psychology

BACKGROUND, HISTORY, AND ICONS

The historical events that laid the foundation for the need for hostage
negotiation as a police approach include the Munich massacre of Olympic
athletes at the hands of terrorists in 1972, as well as the spate of airline jack-
ings that seemed epidemic in the 1970s. McMains and Mullins (1996) pro-
vide a concise discussion of the events in the development of the NYPD
hostage negotiation concept as well as the Federal Bureau of Investigation
(FBI) initiatives that followed. Many of the classic articles on hostage negoti-
ation were assembled in a compendium by Romano, Getz, and McCann
(1998). Other authors have devoted some attention to the development of
hostage negotiation techniques in law enforcement (e.g. Blau, 1994) and cri-
sis situations (e.g. James, 2008).
What has been referred to as “first-generation” hostage negotiation (the
police response to terrorist and political activities) has gradually evolved into
“second-generation” crisis intervention (applying crisis intervention princi-
ples to criminal encounters and domestic disturbances). Many hostage nego-
tiation teams (HNT) were renamed crisis negotiation teams (CNT) to reflect
this refinement of philosophy and technique (e.g. OCSO, 1999, 2001). A
good summary of the evolution of hostage negotiation in law enforcement is
provided by Call (2003).
When one enters the literature on crisis/hostage negotiation, almost
immediately two names come to the fore: Frank Bolz and Harvey Schloss-
berg. These two individuals share the credit for introducing and developing
the techniques of crisis negotiation for law enforcement application. Each
gave an account of his role in the process — Bolz in Hostage Cop (Bolz &
Hershey, 1979) and Schlossberg in Psychologist with a Gun (Schlossberg &
Freeman, 1974). In person, each can tell many tales of how things came to
be. No doubt one person played off the other in a synergistic way that led to
the refinement of a method that has found its way to almost all law enforce-
ment agencies today. However, recognition must also go to the late Simon
Eisdorfer, who is credited with developing the NYPD hostage negotiation
team (New York Times, 2005).

EARLY TRAINING AND DEVELOPMENT OF BASIC MODELS

In the beginning, the application of negotiation in the law enforcement

context simply meant talking to the suspect, rather than using a tactical
approach to resolve a crisis situation. Talking was seen as a better alternative
to force, especially when the lives of innocent hostages hung in the balance
(Soskis & Van Zandt, 1986). So, the strategy to “isolate, contain, and negoti-
 Crisis Negotiation 259

ate” emerged. Training models emphasized the importance of time and con-
tainment to the effective resolution of potentially lethal encounters. Trainers
instructed would-be negotiators in the history, development, philosophy,
and techniques of negotiation that emerged from police trial and error appli-
cations. Anecdotes and “war stories” were plentiful in early training sessions
(Bolz & Hershey, 1979; Schlossberg & Freeman, 1974). Not much emphasis
was placed on communication techniques per se, other than the need to con-
vince the barricaded suspect/hostage taker to give up and come out. Nego-
tiators were generally selected for their ability to carry on a good conversa-
tion.
As negotiation began to take hold in the law enforcement arsenal, the
process came under scrutiny in an effort to better understand the dynamics
in typical situations (see Abbott, 1986; Wesselius & DeSarno, 1983; Whittle,
1988). In a study conducted by Holmes (1991), an attempt was made to for-
mulate a developmental phase model of negotiation; however, the model
seemed to fit training simulation situations better than it did actual hostage
situations. Other models attempted to fit the elements of a crisis situation
into negotiator training (Herndon, 1994) or to provide useful analogies that
might facilitate training (Herndon, 1996), or both.
Abbott (1986) presented a time-phased model for hostage negotiation
based on time-sequence relationships that occur during the negotiation
process. This was intended to be used as a yardstick by which to measure the
process of negotiations. Similarly, Strentz (1995) discussed the cyclic crisis
negotiation time line that can help a negotiator determine that a situation is
winding down toward a peaceful solution.
Figure 12-1. shows the major components in police crisis negotiation,
around which this chapter is organized. The content (players) of negotiation
includes the hostage taker, the hostages (victims), and the hostage negotiator.
Issues surrounding each are presented in what follows. The context of nego-
tiation, in terms of this chapter, is the law enforcement crisis team call out.
The process of negotiation includes the dynamic interactions that occur
between and among all players. External forces, such as organizational,
social and political pressures, tend to impinge on the process. Mental health
consultants often play a role in the outcome. In addition, time is always a fac-
tor.
260 Applied Criminal Psychology

Figure 12-1. Organizing framework.

APPLICATION AND EXAMINATION OF THE PROCESS

From the very beginning of the application of negotiation techniques to

law enforcement situations, there have been efforts to examine the process,
not only to explicate and elucidate but also to educate. Schlossberg (1979)
described in general terms the police response to hostage situations, and
Fuselier (1981) provided a practical overview of hostage negotiations. Even
the moral considerations involved in police responses to hostage takers have
been explored (Betz, 1982).
Maksymchuk (1982) provided a very basic outline of the types of hostage
takers, hostage situations, and offensive actions to be considered in most
police calls for assistance. The anatomy of a hostage situation was presented
by Wesselius and DeSarno (1983) as they exemplified the social psychologi-
cal interplay between hostage and hostage taker. Friedland (1986) examined
hostage negotiation types, processes, and outcomes. An empirical examina-
tion of the process of negotiation between a barricaded subject and police
negotiators was detailed by Powell (1989) in his doctoral dissertation at the
University of Iowa.
The high-risk factors associated with crisis/hostage situations were dis-
cussed by Fuselier, Van Zandt, and Lanceley (1991); these factors were iden-
tified as those that increase the possibility of the victim being killed or the
 Crisis Negotiation 261

hostage taker committing suicide. Among these factors were the subject
being under multiple stressors prior to the incident, the subject’s background
of male dominance, prior similar incidents and problems with the hostage,
and, the subject’s lack of family or social support systems. Ramesh (1992)
was critical of police negotiation by stating that strategies employed not only
may fail to resolve certain hostage situations but may also continue to invest
the police with power to define meanings and to characterize the service they
render to the public.
Dolnik (2003) contrasted the dynamics of crisis negotiations in barricade
versus kidnapping incidents. Because of the differences cited (location of vic-
tims and identity of perpetrators), the components of crisis negotiation that
have been successful in resolving barricade situations may be inapplicable to
kidnappings. Other important variables and distinctions occurring in crisis
situations faced by negotiators are discussed in the edited work of Rogan,
Hammer and Van Zandt (1997). A full range of psychological aspects of cri-
sis negotiation is covered in the chapters put together by Strentz (2006).

COMMUNICATIONS AND SPECIALIZED TECHNIQUES

Negotiation is fundamentally communication. This statement may seem

overly simplistic; however, it is important to realize that the emphasis on
communication techniques did not come until many lessons had been
learned through ineffective communications in hostage situations. Early ne-
gotiation was a strategy of containment and isolation, allowing time to work
in favor of the release of hostages and using negotiation to stall and vent
(defuse) the situation. Unfortunately, in law enforcement (as well as in other
occupations), time is money, and overtime pay considerations often led to an
action imperative to “go tactical.” Better communication techniques were
needed to resolve situations peacefully in a timely manner.
Early arguments were made for negotiation over tactical assaults (e.g.
Bolz, 1982). Organizational resistance and inertia were hard to overcome in
the early years of negotiation. Talk was tolerated, but only for so long.
Communication strategies came under scrutiny. Richardson (1983) exam-
ined the communication strategies in barricade and hostage confrontations
to include the rationale for the commitment to resolve such crises through
communication rather than through tactical assault, the underlying theory
and research, and the actual strategies recommended and practised by nego-
tiators as taught by the FBI Academy. He proposed suggestions to refine
communication response strategies, both short term and long term. Other
communication analysis studies are reported by Fowler, Devivo and Fowler
(1985) and Rogan (1990).
262 Applied Criminal Psychology

Mullins (1995) offered some advanced communication techniques for

hostage negotiators, those designed to influence others and increase compli-
ance. Other researchers examined the message affect in crisis negotiations
(Rogan & Hammer, 1995), and Slatkin (1996) made the case for therapeutic
communication.
Recognition of the importance of active listening became the focus of con-
sideration among hostage negotiators (Noesner & Webster, 1997). Royce
(2005) analyzed the critical role of active listening in the case of a police
negotiator in New South Wales, Australia during the process of serving a
high-risk warrant on an armed suspect. Royce concluded that active listen-
ing was a critical factor in the resolution of the crisis. Keenan (2007) encour-
aged the development of an empathetic response in police crisis negotiators,
noting that trainees who were exposed to the FBI-CNT model showed no
increase in the level of observed emotional empathy as demonstrated by pre-
and post-training testing.
Some researchers have argued for the importance of roleplaying as a
means to increase negotiator effectiveness (Van Hasselt & Romano, 2004;
Van Hasselt, Romano & Vecchi, 2008). Certainly, roleplaying contributes to
the development of better negotiation skills by adding situational realism.
Research focusing directly on the communication process during crisis situ-
ations has shown that verbal communication has a direct impact on the out-
come (McClain, 2004; McClain, Callaghan, Madrigal, Unwin & Castoreno,
2006). The value of words as disarming tools was noted by Charles (1999;
2007) and Slatkin (2005) who offered a general guide to some useful com-
munication stratagems and strategies for law enforcement.
Taylor (2002) proposed a cylindrical model of communication behavior
that posited the interrelationships among communication behaviors in crisis
negotiation. By analyzing 189 dialogue spans transcribed from nine resolved
cases and using forty-one coding variables, Taylor identified three dominant
levels of suspect-negotiator interaction (avoidance, distributive, integrative)
and three thematic styles of communication (identity, instrumental, relation-
al). Such research contributes to a better understanding of communication
dynamics, which are essential to crisis resolution.
Communication as negotiation, and vice versa, is essential to effective cri-
sis resolution. Listening and understanding require disciplined practice, and
true communication can be inhibited by world view differences between law
enforcement and other categories of people (see Docherty, 1998). Intelli-
gence gathering is a never-ending component of crisis negotiation.
 Crisis Negotiation 263

HOSTAGE-TAKER ISSUES

Behind hostage-taking behavior can be found motive. Behavior tends to

be purposeful; hostages are usually taken for a reason. An excellent discus-
sion of the variations of motives found in different types of hostage takers can
be found in Hacker (1976). Knowing that one is motivated by personal (emo-
tional), criminal (instrumental), or social/political (ideological) issues certain-
ly makes a difference with regard to the negotiation tactics and strategies
employed. Why people take hostages is a paramount issue in resolving
standoffs successfully. As a minimum, such knowledge can serve to facilitate
communication.
There has been some consideration in the literature for the case of dealing
with various personality types (disordered or otherwise), such as the antiso-
cial personality or the paranoid schizophrenic. Lanceley (1981) discussed the
former, describing features of this type of personality disorder and offering
the negotiator tips on how to deal with such hostage takers. Strentz (1983)
focused on the “inadequate personality” as a hostage taker. It is interesting
that this carryover from the 1968 Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental
Disorders (DSM-II) still influences present-day negotiator thinking. This
speaks to the danger of getting stuck on labels. Whereas mental health pro-
fessionals may be able to ignore such archaic labels (i.e. no longer in DSM)
and focus on the presenting symptoms, less knowledgeable negotiators may
get stuck (the training literature still uses the term “inadequate personality”
to this day) to the detriment of effective negotiation. A hostage taker is not
merely a diagnostic label, and poor labeling clouds behavioral prediction.
Perhaps, it would be better to focus on overt behavior during and immedi-
ately prior to a crisis, rather than off-the-cuff diagnoses or someone else’s
opinion of the suitable label.
No doubt, however, mental status of the negotiator is an issue to contend
with. A common encounter during crisis situations tends to be the person suf-
fering from paranoid schizophrenia. Strentz (1986a) discussed negotiating
with the hostage taker who displays symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia.
More recently, Mohandie and Duffy (1999) spoke to the symptoms of para-
noid schizophrenia in greater detail, its prevalence in society, violence risk
associated with the illness, and crisis management strategies. They provide
negotiator/first responder guidelines. Taking a broader view, Miller (2007)
presented an outline of guiding principles and techniques for negotiating
with the most common forms of mentally disordered hostage takers.
Other complicating factors besides motivation and mental status include
language and age. DiVasto (1996) considered the particular difficulties en-
countered when one attempts to negotiate with a hostage taker who does not
speak English as a first language. It becomes imperative to have interpreters
264 Applied Criminal Psychology

available if negotiation is to proceed effectively. When dealing with older

persons in crisis, there may be a particular concern about suicide potential.
Slatkin (2003) pointed out that “negotiators need to employ strategies de-
signed to incorporate the effects of aging and the older individual's reaction
to the aging process.” Terhune-Bickler (2005) addressed the impact of subject
suicide on the negotiator. She noted, “when the negotiators were unable to
‘succeed’ in the sometimes unrealistic task of preventing the suicide, they felt
a myriad of emotions, including defeat and betrayal.”

NEGOTIATOR ISSUES

What would crisis and hostage negotiation be without the negotiator?

More than likely, it would become a police tactical engagement. Thus, the
negotiator is the essential component in the process, the person in the mid-
dle between hostage takers and hostages. The negotiator is the wedge
between peaceful surrender and dynamic confrontation. The negotiator is
pivotal in ensuring a nonviolent resolution to situations that all too often
escalate into chaos and tragedy. Given such a heavy responsibility, it is essen-
tial to consider the characteristics needed to be successful in the role of
hostage negotiator.
Gelbart (1979) was among the first to address this issue. In his doctoral
dissertation at the University of Southern California, he examined the psy-
chological, personality, and biographical variables that seemed to be related
to success as a negotiator. Strentz (2006) summarized the California study by
pointing out that effective negotiators had highly adequate social skills, com-
munications ability, self-assurance, and social presence. They were also intel-
ligent, ambitious, forceful, insightful, resourceful, and versatile, according to
measures on the California Psychological Inventory (CPI) and other instru-
ments.
Other early research on the desirable qualities of hostage negotiators was
conducted by Tatar (1982). He administered a standardized battery of per-
sonality and motivation measures to a group of experienced law enforce-
ment officers who had volunteered for hostage negotiator training. He found
that factor analysis produced four dimensions of high relevance to police
work and hostage negotiation: emotional stability, extraversion, instinctual
gratification, and liberal orientation.
Knowing something about what makes an effective hostage negotiator
leads the way to the identification of optimal selection criteria and the deliv-
ery of relevant training. Gettys and Elam (1988) sought to do just that, to
identify characteristics of negotiators and develop a selection model based
on personality data. Survey data reflecting personality characteristics impor-
 Crisis Negotiation 265

tant to hostage negotiators were compared with personality test data ob-
tained from a sample of hostage negotiators. Results indicated that hostage
negotiators were above average in their ability to communicate effectively
with others, self-confident, good at divergent thinking, and helpful and sym-
pathetic in their dealings with other people. Going beyond test data and per-
sonality characteristics, Birge and Birge (1994) pointed to the importance of
police employment history as a predictor of success as a negotiator, meaning
that past success in resolving crises should predict future success in similar
situations. Gruchacz (1997) and Slatkin (1996) also addressed selection and
training issues, respectively. Strentz (1996) focused on the sociopsychological
traits of successful negotiators. More recent attention to the negotiator selec-
tion process (balancing departmental policies while selecting the right per-
sonnel) was the focus of research conducted by Kisthardt (2000). This
research questioned the assumption that there is a specific set of personality
traits common to all negotiators across all law enforcement agencies. Rather,
each job in each agency is unique; job analysis must be completed prior to
selection to ensure the psychological dimensions are fully understood.
Regini (2002) addressed the selection of the CNT leader, as well as the rest
of the team, and the assignment of team responsibilities. His discussion pro-
vided an assortment of general traits of the effective leader (e.g. experience
and knowledge), as well as some mention of specific familiarity with behav-
ioral sciences and psychological and sociological concepts. The best CNT
members seem to come from the ranks of the best criminal investigators;
they tend to be nonconfrontational and nonjudgmental in their approach to
cases and have exceptional interview and interrogation skills. The roles of
primary negotiator, secondary negotiator, and other team members figure
heavily in team effectiveness.
Firsthand accounts of the job of a hostage negotiator are insightful and aid
one's understanding of the nature of the work and what kind of person is suc-
cessful and effective. A publicized conversation between current and former
members of the NYPD hostage negotiation team and an FBI crisis negotia-
tor is a case in point (Cambria, DeFilippo, Louden & McGowan, 2002). Most
recently, retired FBI agent Cliff Van Zandt published an account of his “life
on the edge as an FBI hostage negotiator” (Van Zandt & Paisner, 2006).
Lanceley (1999) published a useful on-scene guide that provides a good
insight into the nature of the work of a negotiator.

HOSTAGE ISSUES

The hostage is at the heart of hostage negotiation. Safety and survival of

the hostage undergird the process of negotiation and dictate the dynamics
266 Applied Criminal Psychology

thereof. The physical and psychological well-being of the hostage(s) is an

ever-present concern for all parties involved. Hostages are the bargaining
chips and become the focus of much attention, either directly or indirectly.
The effects of being held hostage have received attention in the literature.
One of the earliest discussions of a well-recognized hostage reaction to
being held captive, the Stockholm Syndrome, was provided by Strentz
(1979). Identifying with the aggressor as an ego defense and developing neg-
ative feelings toward the police (who are seen as posing danger due to immi-
nent tactical assault) form the basis for hostage survival strategy. Hillman
(1981) described the psychopathology of being held hostage, and Solomon
(1982) carried out an empirical study involving thirty-five former hostages
using a forty-one-item questionnaire. The results supported the belief that the
Stockholm Syndrome does develop in hostage situations and can be affected
by negative hostage-taker treatment of hostages. On the other hand, Olin
and Born (1983) argued that the Stockholm Syndrome is not inevitable and
may depend on factors that are under police control to reduce the likelihood
of violence being done to the hostages by the hostage-taker.
Fuselier (1988) considered, among other things, victim responses to being
held hostage, the theoretical explanations for the Stockholm Syndrome, the
psychological sequelae, and treatment suggestions after release from captivi-
ty. Suggestions for persons who may become hostages were provided by
Bolz (1987) as a form of inoculation against negative effects and as tips to
maximize survival. Giebels, Noelanders, and Vervaeke (2005) conducted ele-
ven semi-structured and in-depth interviews with victims of two types of
hostage taking (sieges and kidnapping); results showed that all hostages
reported feelings of helplessness, but feelings of isolation and uncertainty
were stronger among kidnap victims.
Attempts to put the Stockholm Syndrome in a balanced perspective are
evident (see Fuselier, 1999). A recent article does a very good job of summa-
rizing what is understood and misunderstood about the Stockholm
Syndrome and victim responses to being held hostage (De Fabrique,
Romano, Vecchi & Van Hasselt, 2007). An estimated prevalence rate of 27
percent (derived from data suggesting that 73 percent of captives show no
evidence of the syndrome) is sufficient to warrant treatment approaches such
as debriefings and posttraumatic stress disorder(PTSD) interventions.
The primary aim of hostage negotiation is to obtain the release of hos-
tages. Their well-being and safety drives the need for sound theory and prac-
tical applications of the behavioral sciences.
 Crisis Negotiation 267

ROLE OF MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONALS AND USE OF

PSYCHOLOGICAL DATA

Central to the importance of this chapter is the role played by mental

health professionals of various backgrounds in the process and outcome of
crisis situations. Utilization of and reliance on these professionals has be-
come more typical over the past few decades as law enforcement agencies
have come to recognize the contributions that can be made by someone
knowledgeable in applied behavioral science. Some of the relevant literature
is highlighted in the following paragraphs.
As early as 1977, consideration was being given to the role of mental
health professionals (i.e. non-law enforcement personnel) in police negotia-
tions (see Pearce, 1977). Johnson (1978) expanded the discussion to a broader
range of behavioral scientists. Powitsky (1979) considered the use and misuse
of psychologists in a hostage situation. Hibler (1984) developed a consulta-
tion guide for mental health professionals who take part in hostage situations.
Other early writings on this topic include Wardlaw (1984), Fuselier (1988),
and McMains (1988). More recently, Feldman (2004) presented a general
discussion of the role of the mental health consultant on hostage negotiation
teams. Similarly, DeBarnardo (2004) considered the psychologist’s role in his
discussion targeting emergency mental health professionals.
An empirical study conducted by Butler, Leitenberg and Fuselier (1993)
surveyed 300 law enforcement agencies in the United States that employed
a negotiator in hostage incidents. Thirty-nine percent indicated that they
used a mental health consultant for negotiation teams. The use of a mental
health consultant contributed to an increase in the number of incidents end-
ing in surrender and a decrease in the number of incidents ending in tactical
assault. The use of a mental health consultant to assess the perpetrator
reduced the number of incidents resulting in injury or death of a hostage.
This study provided data-driven support for the use of mental health profes-
sionals in crisis negotiation. Updated statistics pertaining to utilization and
effectiveness can be found in Delprino and Bahn (1988) and Fuselier (1988).
Havassy (1994) supported the use of a psychologist as part of the negoti-
ating team. Taking it further, Hatcher, Mohandie, Turner, and Gelles (1998)
discussed the four roles and related functions of psychologists on crisis/hos-
tage negotiation teams. They prefaced this by noting that “the invitation to
the psychologist to participate in the hostage/crisis negotiation team appears
to depend upon three factors.” Hatcher and colleagues (1998) identify these
factors as mutual acceptance, professional credibility, and an ability to func-
tion in the field. The roles typically fulfilled by psychologists in crisis/hos-
tage negotiation include the consultant/advisor, the integrated team mem-
268 Applied Criminal Psychology

ber, the primary negotiator, and the primary controller. These roles are or-
dered from most frequent to least frequent.
When using a mental health consultant, there are a series of questions that
may be asked during the incident phase that call upon the expertise of a psy-
chologist. Slatkin (2000) suggested a number of questions that can aid the
negotiation process during the beginning, middle, and terminal phases.
These questions focus on the psychological profile of the hostagetaker; char-
acterizations of the situation; and suggested negotiation strategies, approach-
es, and directions.
The use of psychological data was a consideration raised by Poythress
(1980). This predated the widespread use of psychologists who are better
able to interpret and apply psychological data. The point is noted, however;
psychological data in the wrong hands can be a hindrance as well as an aid
to understanding behavior in the hostage/barricade context. Personal
accounts about the experiences of psychologists on crisis negotiation teams
add to the appreciation for their roles and insights (Herndon, 2003, 2006;
Strentz, 2006).

ORGANIZATIONAL AND SYSTEM RESPONSES

Law enforcement organizations that assemble crisis negotiation teams

must consider a number of issues. Matters of individual negotiator selection
and training were mentioned earlier, but, from an organizational perspective,
it is important to consider the structure and readiness of the entire team (see
Regini, 2002). Early discussions in the literature focused on organizing the
team (Maher, 1976), team values (Schlossberg, 1980), team development
(McMains, 1995), and team profiles (Hammer, Van Zandt & Rogan, 1994;
Rogan, Hammer & Van Zandt, 1994). The team must function as a unit, and
it is imperative that joint training be conducted with the tactical team to
ensure coordination and cooperation during high-risk calls (see OCSO, 2001
for an example of a high-risk incident general order). The high-risk incident
commander has to ensure that both teams work well together. Magers (2007)
discusses the importance of leadership, especially the ethical issues involved
in making the best decision: negotiation versus tactical assault. Wind (1995)
clarified the role of the field commander in critical incidents while Noesner
(1999) addressed negotiation concepts for commanders. Vecchi (2002)
offered in-sight into the conflicts that can arise between tactical and negoti-
ating teams and how the two teams can collaborate for a successful outcome.
Birge (2002) noted that balance is the key when it comes to the use of nego-
tiation versus tactical responses.
 Crisis Negotiation 269

The value of situation boards for use by negotiation teams is the subject of
an article by Duffy (1997). Position papers are a means whereby expert nego-
tiators can provide advice to teams during incidents (Dalfonzo & Romano,
2003). These tools can facilitate the process and contribute to an effective
outcome.
Crisis negotiation is not just the concern of law enforcement. As Turner
(1989) noted, there is the necessity for other organizations, such as healthcare
facilities, to have a written response plan in place for the eventuality of a
hostage incident. In a world of ever-increasing workplace violence, corpora-
tions and private companies must do their part to protect employees and cus-
tomers/clients from danger while developing contingency plans that facili-
tate working with law enforcement in the event of an incident.

PROCESS AND OUTCOME ASSESSMENT AND EVALUATION

OF EFFECTIVENESS

With forty or so years of development and application, a fair question to

ask, is how effective is crisis negotiation? Over the years, tracking incidents
has been a hit or miss effort, with some agencies doing a better job than oth-
ers of keeping accurate records of hostage/barricade situations that resulted
in a team call out, and the resolution or outcome thereof. It was, and is, not
uncommon in many agencies for negotiation teams to keep an after-action
report; the challenge has been to build and maintain a centralized, nation-
wide database that is accurate and reliable. In the mid-1990s, the FBI began
the hostage/barricade data system (HOBAS) in an attempt to rectify this
problem. Only one reported study has been found in the peer-reviewed lit-
erature that reports an evaluation of the effectiveness of HOBAS. This study
questioned whether HOBAS can be reasonably expected to render the rep-
resentative, unbiased data that is expected from it (Lipetsker, 2004).
Prior to HOBAS, there were several noteworthy academic attempts at
assessment and evaluation. For example, Leary (1980) focused his doctoral
research at George Mason University on an evaluation of the FBI's hostage
negotiation training program. Similarly, Strentz (1986b), in his doctoral
research at Virginia Commonwealth University, conducted an evaluation of
two training programs designed to enable hostages to cope more effectively
with captivity stress. Head (1989) took a broader, systems perspective in his
doctoral research at the State University of New York at Albany when he
considered the specific characteristics of hostage incidents and the policies
used by U.S. law enforcement agencies in handling them. For this research,
Head created a database of U.S. hostage incidents occurring over a ten-year
270 Applied Criminal Psychology

period by drawing upon a number of official and unofficial sources. Survey

research conducted by Zatwarnitski (1998) at George Mason University
looked at the interpersonal and situational dynamics of hostage negotiation
situations. Responses indicated that 70 percent of hostage takings were of a
domestic nature and most hostages were women and children. Hostage tak-
ers were predominately male and were typically known by or related to the
hostages. Louden (1999) analyzed the hostage negotiation practices of 276
local, county, and state police agencies in the United States (with at least 100
sworn officers) that used some standard system of negotiation response to
hostage and barricade situations. This was a comprehensive study examin-
ing nine specific hypotheses and gathering extensive descriptive data. The
findings added to what is known about the structure and processes of hos-
tage negotiation teams. McGowan (2004) focused on the NYPD to study
whether hostage and barricade incidents (selected sample) that are resolved
violently differ from incidents that are resolved without violence. Findings
and conclusions from this nontraditional contextual model approach to eval-
uation (departing from research that used a motivational model) support the
hypothesis that a phenomenological model based on context, containment,
and conversation is superior to a motivational model for predicting incident
resolution. As laudable as these doctoral research projects are, more system-
atic research along these lines is needed before firm conclusions can be
reached.
There is ample anecdotal and testimonial evidence that argues for the uti-
lization of crisis negotiation over a tactical response, and there are corre-
sponding accounts of success in the overwhelming number of incidents.
Tracking hostage/barricade calls and tabulating peaceful resolutions in one
medium-sized law enforcement agency in the southeastern United States
from September 1992 through March 2002 revealed that 90.6 percent of the
incidents resulted in a peaceful surrender (Herndon, 2003). One atypical
incident was the focus of national media and served as the basis for refined
training in tactics (Herndon, 2001). Taken as a whole, review of ten years’
experience as a psychologist on a hostage negotiation team pointed to sev-
eral lessons learned: behavioral profiling is more effective than instant DSM
diagnosis, criminal history is a good predictor of situation outcome, listening
trumps talking, shrink talk can be nonsensical, and some situations are non-
negotiable (Herndon, 2006). Lanceley (2004) addressed lessons learned from
the vantage point of an FBI hostage negotiator; he compared the job of a
salesman with being a negotiator. His lessons include recognizing a non-
negotiable situation; realizing it is not about you; everyone on scene is a
salesman/negotiator, so a consistent message is important; people believe in
demonstrations far more than in words; keep it simple; and it is not over
until it is over. In Facing Down Evil, retired FBI negotiator Clint Van Zandt
 Crisis Negotiation 271

recounted most of his memorable cases and gave the reader a glimpse of
what it is like to be on the inside (Van Zandt & Paisner, 2006). Impressions
about the effectiveness of hostage negotiations can be derived from such per-
sonal accounts.
The most-recent evaluation research that appears in the peer-reviewed lit-
erature is that of Van Hasselt and colleagues (2006) and Van Aelstyn (2007).
Van Hasselt and co-workers (2006) report on an empirical investigation of
crisis (hostage) negotiation training. Using forty-five FBI special agents, a
pretest and posttest design found significant gains in scores as a result of the
two-week training course. This, however, can in no way guarantee transfer
of training success in the field. Van Aelstyn (2007) looked at perceived char-
acteristics that facilitate the successful conclusion of crisis situations. He had
difficulty discerning the degree to which negotiator education, experience,
and training affected the outcome of negotiations.
The importance of crisis/hostage negotiation to police work in particular,
and society in general, requires that evaluation research be an on-going
effort. There should be formative as well as summative program evaluation,
and attention needs to be paid to proximal as well as distal criteria. Content
and process issues must be considered, as well as contextual variables. Only
in this way will the technique be refined through systematic validation.

CINEMA AND FILM PORTRAYAL

As with many areas in police work, the movies can play an important role
in informing the public about what goes on behind the badge. Some movies
(documentary or fictional) may contribute to a better understanding of po-
lice procedure; some may obfuscate matters. A few popular examples of
hostage negotiation are mentioned in the following.
An incident that was made famous by the movie Dog Day Afternoon (War-
ner Home Video, 1989) gave the NYPD much notoriety over hostage nego-
tiation. This film is a fictionalized version of a bank robbery gone bad, in
which police negotiators are called in to peacefully resolve the standoff. It is
not an altogether unfamiliar theme in movies of this genre, but, being based
on a true incident, Dog Day Afternoon can be considered a classic introduction
to police hostage/crisis negotiation.
Scenes of hostage negotiation doubtless appear in numerous Hollywood
produced movies; one attempt to glean some of these scenes for the benefit
of self-reflection occurred at a hostage negotiator conference (Herndon,
2000). One movie that emphasized negotiators as individuals was The Nego-
tiator (Warner Brothers, 1998). In this film a wrongfully accused negotiator
(Samuel L. Jackson) takes hostages in the police department and will only
272 Applied Criminal Psychology

negotiate with a fellow negotiator (Kevin Spacey). Techniques and tactics of

negotiation are displayed with the intensity and drama of an action film. Of
course, the best negotiator wins. In a similar vein, but with a different twist,
a made-for-TV movie, Hostage Negotiator (USA Network, 2001), tells the story
of an FBI negotiator who is set up by her spouse, also an FBI agent who has
blown his career; she uses her skills to resolve a hostage standoff involving
her own children. Again, superior skills in communication prevail. An older
HBO movie, Dead Silence (HBO, 1997), that starred James Garner and
Marlee Matlin, featured an FBI negotiator (Garner) tasked with resolving a
standoff in an old slaughter house where a busload of deaf children were
being held as hostages. Personal issues and past mistakes intruded in the
negotiator’s mission yet all ended well. Taken together, these three films
depict negotiators as complex people who have their own personal crises to
contend with whilst performing their duties effectively by drawing on expe-
rience and training in negotiation.
Two documentaries place hostage negotiation in a more realistic perspec-
tive. A&E released Hostage Negotiators in 1998; this episode of “Dangerous
Missions” features pioneers in the field (e.g. Frank Bolz) and former hostages
(e.g. Larry Haber) to provide a glimpse of what it is like from both the nego-
tiator’s perspective and that of the hostage. The Discovery Channel aired On
the Inside: Hostage Negotiators in 2001; it “looked at the difficult jobs of hostage
negotiators and their successes in the past 30 years.” Actual incidents are
examined and experts are interviewed. One of the incidents was the Waco,
Texas, event involving David Koresh and the Branch Davidians. This exam-
ple is one that has received much criticism because of the disastrous out-
come. A recent ABC News (2007) presentation (Death in Waco), hosted by
Ted Koppel, took a hard look at what went wrong and questioned the FBI’s
role.
The popular appetite for negotiator fare was fueled for a while by a short-
lived TV series (September 5, 2006–July 20, 2007; 18 episodes) titled Stand-
off (Fox, 2006). The demise of this series may be due in part to poor acting
and poor casting as much as it was due to an annoying subplot that involved
sexual innuendo among star negotiators. The FBI took a hit when this series
aired and failed, at least in terms of negotiator prestige.
A discussion of negotiator films would not be complete without mention
of Inside Man (Universal, 2006). Starring Denzel Washington, Clive Owen,
and Jody Foster, this thriller pits the wits of a detective/negotiator against a
shrewd bank robber and his crew, leaving the viewer wondering who actu-
ally outwitted whom. It was exciting, but true to life?
The portrayal of hostage negotiation in movies and films, although enter-
taining and possibly informative, leaves much to be desired in terms of a bal-
anced presentation of the complexities of the field, the intense training in-
 Crisis Negotiation 273

volved, the dedication of police personnel, and the importance of behavioral

science knowledge to effective crisis resolution.

FOCUS ON THE FUTURE

As we consider the history and development of crisis negotiation, the past

good and bad challenge us to look to the future with the thought of where
the field is going and needs to go. Not much has been written from this point
of view. Greenstone (1995) was among the first to lament the divide that has
developed between tactical teams and negotiation teams, suggesting that the
future should return to a past recognition of the importance of a synergistic
effect derived from crosstrained personnel. It is important to remember that
negotiation should be given every opportunity to succeed and that a tactical
response should not be the police imperative. We only need to look at some
recent famous examples to realize that a rush to storm the fortress has disas-
trous consequences (e.g. Agne, 2003). Take time to talk should be the
mantra.
Hancerli (2005) examined the history and development of hostage nego-
tiation on a worldwide scale and offered future recommendations to govern-
ments, police agencies, and researchers. Among his five recommendations
for governments were that they should always allow negotiation with hostage
takers (reversing the policy that “we never negotiate with terrorists”) and
trust their own police units to take responsibility and resolve the situation
peacefully. For police agencies, he offered four recommendations, including
the need for all agencies to establish negotiation teams, that negotiation
teams not “compete” with tactical teams because neither is subordinate or
superior to the other, and that agencies establish behavioral science units to
assist with crisis calls. For researchers, Hancerli recommended that more
empirical studies be conducted and that more academic contributions be
made to the literature of hostage negotiation resolutions. Greater coopera-
tion between police agencies and researchers will lead to more effective
strategies in crisis negotiation.
What the next forty years hold is impossible to predict. By examining the
past practices of crisis negotiation and by continuing to examine the process
through research and evaluation, the future should be characterized by
improvements and refinements in this aspect of police work.
274 Applied Criminal Psychology

CONCLUSION

Crisis negotiation is an important area of police work. Over the past forty
years, the techniques of negotiation have been modified and refined, better
selection and training methods have been utilized to build a cadre of highly
skilled practitioners, lessons learned have been applied, and the role of
behavioral science has been expanded as an adjunct to crisis/hostage nego-
tiation. Research has been, and continues to be, carried out that examines the
various aspects of the negotiation process. The future looks bright for crisis
negotiation as an effective intervention to difficult situations.

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 INDEX

A Child sexual abuse, 52, 63, 133

Clinical Antipsychotic Trials of Intervention
Aberrant psychological drives/violent crime, Effectiveness (CATIE) Project, 76
214-215, 217, 220-221 Cocaine, 73
Active listening, 260 Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), 14
Actuarial instruments, 84-85 Cognitive interview (CI), 147-164
Age-regression, 174-176, 180 Comorbidity, 9, 241
Alcohol intoxication, 81 Confabulation, 175, 178-179
Alloplastic, 23 Control question test (CQT), 96, 110
American Medical Association (AMA), 170, 183 Coroner’s investigation/inquiry, xvi, 235-239,
American Psychiatric Association (APA), 8, 32, 253
56 Counter interrogation methods, 111-112, 115-
Amnesia, 12, 15-16, 172, 181-182, 186 116
Amphetamines, 73 Crack, 73
Anhedonia, 14, 30 Criminal profile, iii, xiii, xvi, 213-218, 222, 224-
Antisocial behaviors, 11, 21, 23 227, 230
Arson, 7, 29, 100, 218, 220-221 Criminal profiling, 213-233
Autogenic massacre, 83 Accuracy, 225-226
Autopsy, xvi, 235-247, 251 Alternate titles, 213-215
Approaches, 215-223
B Diagnostic Evaluations (DE), 216
Criminal Investigative Analysis (CIA),
Battered woman syndrome, 45, 50, 61, 63 217
Barricade situation, 257, 259-261, 268-270 Organized/Disorganized dichoto-
Behavioral Science Unit (BSU), 217 my, 217-218
Bernheim, Hippolyte, 169 Investigative Psychology (IP), 218
Boston Strangler, The, 215 Crime Action Profiling (CAP), 220
Brain injury, 76 Geographic profiling, 216, 221-223
Breuer, Josef, 170 Legal admissibility, 227-228
Bolz, Frank, 258-259, 261, 266, 272 Utility, 226-227
Crisis Negotiation Team (CNT), viii, xiii, xvi,
C 258, 265, 267-268
Crisis/Hostage Negotiation, 257-279
Catatonic behavior, 12-13 Negotiation Models, 258-262
Central park jogger case, 194 Isolate, contain and negotiate, 258
Chaotic behavior, 13 Developmental phase model, 259
Charcot, Jean, 170 Time-phased model, 259

281
282 Applied Criminal Psychology

FBI-CNT model, 262 Federal Rules of Evidence (FRE), 47, 228

Processes, 260-261 Filicide, 82
Assessments, 269-271 Folkes v. Chadd, 49
Testimonial evidence, 270 Forensic hypnosis, 169-189
Cinema and film portrayals, 271-273 Forensic psychiatrist, xii, 5-6, 11, 38
Criteria-Based Content Analysis (CBCA), 107- Forensic psychologist, 45-67
109, 112 Franklin, George, 121, 181
Freud, Sigmund, 26, 36, 38, 128, 170, 178
D Frye v. United States, 47-48, 51, 186, 228
Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging
Daubert v. Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals, 47-51, 63- (FMRI), 40-41, 112, 117
64, 169, 184-187
Deceit (detection), 95-120 G
Delusion, 12, 14, 23, 30-32, 35, 73-75, 78, 80,
82, 253 General acceptance, 47-49, 63, 186, 228
Detectives, 154, 158, 215, 225, 243, 272 General Electric Co. v Joiner, 48-49, 63
Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental dis Geographic Information Systems (GIS), 222-
orders – (4th Ed.) – (DSM-IV) and/or 223
Diagnostic and statistical manual of Guided imagery, 156
mental disorders – (4th Ed.) – text revi Guilt-presumptive interrogation question, 197,
sion (DSM-IV-TR), 8-10, 18, 32, 56- 199
58, 77, 263, 270 Guilty Knowledge Test (GKT), 96, 111
Diagnostic interviews, 56, 62
Distracter task, 153 H
DNA sample, 51, 121, 126, 136, 191, 193-194,
213 Hallucinations, 12, 30-31, 74-75, 177-178, 253
Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan, 215 Command, 75
Hallucinatory phenomena, 177
E Retroactive, 178
Heavy drinking, 77, 251
Ego, 22-23, 26, 28-30, 32, 35-36, 172, 266 Hitler, Adolf, 215
Egocentric, 27, 29, 30, 35-36, 57-58 Holmes, Sherlock, 215
Empathy, 21, 33, 36, 57, 58, 77-78, 243, 262 Homicidal ideation, 78
Enhanced Cognitive Interviewing (ECI), ix, Homicide, 37-39, 69,72, 78, 80-81, 218, 220-
150, 155, 158 221, 236, 238
Environmental psychology, 223 Hostage barricade data system (HOBAS), 269
Epilepsy, 177 Hostage negotiation, xv, 257-260, 264-267, 269-
Ethics, 25, 27-29, 53-54, 60-63, 204, 268 274
Exact copy theory, 178 Hostage negotiator qualities, 264-265
Hostage takers/motives, 259-266, 266, 270, 273
F Hostage situation, viii, 259-261, 266-267
Hypermnesia, 174, 182
False confession, 191-212 Hypnosis, x, xiii, xvi, 62, 130, 154-155, 169-189
Voluntary, 193 Hypnotic interview, 154
Coerced-compliant, 193 Hypnotic memory theory, 175
Coerced-internalized, 193-194 Hypnotically refreshed memory, 186
Incidence rate, 192 Post-hypnotic testimony, 187
Familicide, 82 Hypothesis testing, 39, 242
Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), viii, 105, Hysteria, 170
182, 217, 258, 261-263, 265, 269-272
 Index 283

I Mania, 13-14, 176

Mass killers/murderers, viii, 83
Identity diffusion syndrome, 31 Memorial performance, 147, 149, 154, 161,-
Impulsivity, 23, 25-27, 30, 35, 59, 77 162, 164
Incest, 16, 35 Memory, vii, viii, ix, xiii, xv, xvi, 121-189
Informants, 242-244 Code, 152-153
Ingram, Paul, 195 Distortion, 128, 131
Innocence Project, 122, 192 Encoding, 122-124, 151, 153
Intelligence Quotient (IQ) low/high, 11, 71, Erroneous recall, 158-159
194, 202 False/pseudo memories, 122, 128-131, 178-
International Classification of Disease (ICD- 179, 194
10), 8, 56 Free recall, 115, 158, 160-161, 170
International Society of Hypnosis. 182-183 Implicit theory of memory, 178
Internet, 79 Recovered memories, 128, 171, 173, 176,
Interrogation, viii, ix, xiii, 96, 98, 114-116, 132, 180-182, 185
183, 191-206, 265 Retrieval of memory, 122-124, 147, 149-
PEACE model, 204 153, 156-158, 185
Phase, 195-196 Trace, 152
Suggestibility, 201-203 Video-recorder model of memory, 122, 173,
Manual, 195-196, 200 175-178, 180, 183
Intestate succession, 246 Mental Disorders (DSM-IV Axis I), 5-19
Investigative bias, 197-199, 201, 206 Adjustment disorder, 10, 18
Anxiety disorders, 10, 12, 14-15, 61-62, 203
J Obsessive compulsive disorder, 14
Post-traumatic stress disorder, 14-15, 50,
Jack the Ripper, 215 61-63, 133, 170, 266
Jackson v Florida, 246-247 Cognitive disorders, 10-11
Delirium, 11-12, 32, 56
K Dementia, 11-12, 56
Disorders usually first diagnosed in Infancy,
Kidnapping, xvi, 215, 261, 266 Childhood, or Adolescence, 10
Kraepelim, Emil, 32-33 Attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder,
Kumho Tire Co. v. Patrick Carmichael, 48-49, 63 11
Asperger’s disorder, 10
L Autism, 10
Conduct disorder, 11, 57
Leading/misleading question, 125-126, 130, Disruptive behavior disorders, 11, 56
155, 178-179 Learning disorders, 11
Lindbergh Jr., Charles, 215 Oppositional defiant disorder, 11, 57
Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD), 154, Dissociative disorders, 10, 15-16, 57, 62
158, 171 Dissociative amnesia, 15
Dissociative fugue, 15
M Dissociative identity disorder, 15-16, 57,
62
MacArthur Study of Mental Disorder and Eating disorders, 10, 17, 128
Violence, 71-75, 77-78 Anorexia nervosa, 17
Mad Bomber of New York, The, 215 Bulimia nervosa, 17
Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI), 40, 112 Factitious disorder, 10, 15
Malingering, 15, 54, 60, 63, 181,-182 Mood disorders, 10, 13-14, 56, 76
Mallard v. The Queen, 51 Bipolar disorder, 13, 23, 73, 76, 253
284 Applied Criminal Psychology

Major depressive disorder, 13-14 Multiphasic Personality Inventory, 59

Depressive disorder, 13-14, 30 Munchausen syndrome (and by proxy), 15
Dysthymic disorder, 14 Munich Massacre, 258
Impulse Control Disorders Not Elsewhere Murder, viii, xvi, 29, 34-35, 37, 39, 73, 76, 80-
Classified, 10, 18 83, 100, 121, 132, 170, 181, 186, 191-
Intermittent explosive disorder, 18 193, 215, 218, 220-221, 225-226, 253
Pathological gambling, 18
Pyromania, 18 N
Kleptomania, 18
Trichotillomania, 18 Neuroimaging studies, 38-41
Sexual and Gender Identity Disorders, 10, Neuropsychology, 38-39, 41, 46, 59, 170, 177,
16-17 185
Paraphilias, 16-18 Neurotransmitter, 28, 41
Exhibitionism, 16, 22, 29 Neurovegetative system, 28
Fetishism, 16 Neurotic, 26, 37, 172,
Frotteurism, 16
Not otherwise specified, 16 O
Necrophilia, 16
Zoophilia, 16 Operational utilitarian argument, 224
Pedophilia, 16, 29 Opinion evidence, 247
Sexual sadism, 17 Outpatient, 78, 85-86
Sexual masochism, 17
Transvestic Fetishism, 17 P
Voyeurism, 17
Schizophrenia and Other Psychotic Paranoia, 26, 32, 35, 73, 83
Disorders, 10-13, 26, 32, 40-41, 56, Parental alienation syndrome, 45, 51
73-77, 241, 263 Partial complex seizure, 177
Psychotic disorder, 10, 12-13, 23, 29, 30, Pedophilia, 16, 29
32, 34, 37-40, 55-56, 72-74, 76-78, Penfield, Wilder, 173, 176-177, 185
82, 85 Persecutory (delusions/delirium/ideation), 32,
Schizoaffective disorder, 13, 30 76, 78
Sleep disorders, 12 Personality disorders (DSM-IV Axis II), 21-43
Somatoform disorder, 10, 15 Antisocial personality disorder and personal
Substance-related disorders, 10, 12, 54, 56, ity, 11, 23-24, 26-27, 30, 32, 41, 57,
72-73, 76, 78 77, 261
Mental illness, 51, 73, 77, 82, 192, 202-203, Borderline personality disorder, 22-23, 29-
243, 246 31, 40
Mental reinstatement of context (MRC), 150- Narcissistic personality disorder, 23, 30, 36
151, 156, 160-161 Paranoid personality disorder, 23, 29, 31
Mental status (examination), 54, 56, 205, 236- Sadistic personality disorder, 30, 36
237, 247, 263 Schizoid personality disorder, 29, 32
Mentally retarded, 11, 51, 56-57, 71, 192, 202 Schizotypal personality disorder. 30, 38, 41
Mind reading, 114 Personality tests, see Psychological tests
Modus Operandi (MO), 126 Personality theory, 215-216, 229
Monomania, 32 Personality traits, 7, 22, 28, 77, 265
Mood, 10, 13, 14, 25, 30, 56, 76, 151, 169, 252 Phenylcyclidine (PCP), 73
Depressive, 13-14, 30 Polygraph (examinations), 47, 51, 62, 96, 110-
Hypomanic, 13 111, 117, 154, 191, 194
Manic, 13-14, 76 Police (law enforcement), vii, ix, x, 83, 102, 105,
Multidimensional Scaling (MDS), 219 147-149, 154-157, 160-163, 170, 183,
 Index 285

204, 214-215, 238, 264, 270 NEO Personality Inventory Revised

Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE), 203- (NEO-PI-R), 59
204 Risk Assessment
Positron Emission Tomography (PET), 39-40 HCR-20 Assessing Risk for Violence, 84
Profiling/profilers, see Criminal profiling Psychopathy Checklist Revised (PCL-R),
Protection order, 80 58, 77, 84
Psychiatric/psychological evaluation, xvi, 5, 7, The Violence Risk Appraisal Guide
53-55, 69, 235 (VRAG), 84
Psychic (force/power), 7, 36, 171 Level of Supervision Inventory – Revised
Psychological autopsy, 235-254 (LSI-R), 84
Applications Psychometric instruments, 58, 60, 244
Legal, 245-247 Psychomotor agitation, 14, 56
Operational, 238-240 Psychopath/psychopathic, 25-27, 32-41, 57-60,
Research, 240-241 63, 75, 77, 84
Procedure, 236-238, 251-254 Psychophysiological stress, 29, 54, 59, 60-61
Concerns, 241-245 Pre-interrogation interview, 195-196, 198-199,
Solutions, 243-245 206
Psychological/psychometric tests, 7, 41, 69, 253 Pre-interrogative beliefs, 197
Intelligence Prime suspect, 179
Maze test (Porteus), 39
Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale – Q
Revised (WAIS-R), 57
Neuropsychological Tests Quasi-experimental studies/trial (profiler accu-
Bender Gestalt Test, 39 racy), 225-226
Block Designs (also used for Intelligence),
39 R
Tinker Toy Test, 39
The Halstead category test (HCT), 39 Rampage killers, 83
The Wisconsin Card Sorting Test Rape, 17, 29, 35, 37, 52, 61, 100, 121, 129, 191-
(WCST), 39 192, 221, 225-226
Other Rape trauma syndrome, 52
Anxiety Disorder Interview Schedule - Reality monitoring (RM), 96, 108-109
Revised (ADIS-R) (ADIS-IV), 56, Reality testing, 30-31
62 Repression, 133, 170-173, 176-178, 181-182,
Novaco Anger Scale and Provocation 185, 194
Inventory (NAS-PI), 78 Restraining order, 80
Psychopathic personality inventory (PPI), Retardation, 11, 51, 56-57, 71, 192, 202
58 Revenge, 77-78
Sensation Seeking Scale, 59 Risk assessment, xii, xix, 5, 12, 69-71, 73-75, 82-
Sensitivity to Punishment and Sensitivity 86
Reward Questioner (SPSRQ), 59 R. v. B, 51
The Iterative Classification Tree (ICT), R. v. Bowman, 50, 63
84 R. v. Fong, 51
Personality R. v. Guilfoyle, 227, 246
Minnesota Multiphasic Personality R. v. Harris, 50
Inventory 2 (MMPI-2), 59-63 R. v. J-L, 51
Minnesota Multiphasic Personality R. v. Johnston, 51
Inventory Adolescent (MMPI- R. v. M, 51
A), 59 R. v. McCarthy, 51
286 Applied Criminal Psychology

R. v. Mohan, 51 Tarasoff v. Regents of the University of California, 85-

R. v. Murphy, 51 86
R. v. Murray, 51 TBR (To be remembered), 149-152
R. v. Sally Loraine Emery, 50 Testamentary capacity, 246
R. v. Smith, 51 Testimony
R. v. Turner, 49, 50, 63 Expert, 46-52, 63, 137-138, 185, 247
Witness, vii, 45, 63, 135, 138, 148, 180, 186
S The National Violent Death Reporting System
(NVDRS), 80
Sadism, 26, 30, 36-38, 77 The prison inmate study, 39
Safety behaviors, 78, 80 The Vietnam veteran head injury study, 38
Satanic ritual abuse, 128, 185, 195 Trauma, 11, 14-15, 23, 36-37, 51-52, 61-62,
Schlossberg, Harvey, 258-260, 268 128-129, 131-133, 151, 170-172, 180-
Scientific Content Analysis (SCAN), 96, 112, 181
117
Self-destructive behavior, 35, 239 U
Sexual murderer, 218, 221
Short Message Service (SMS), 79 US Office of Strategic Services (OSS), 215
Society for Clinical and Experimental Hypnosis, United States v. Plaza, 49, 63
182
Somatic disease/disorder, 9, 14-15 V
Spiegel, David, 179-180
Stalker/stalking, x, 79-80 Victims, 38, 45, 51-55, 60-63, 79, 83, 85, 128,
Standard police interview (SI), 154-155, 158- 133, 136, 147, 150, 158-159, 245, 259,
159, 161 261, 266
Standardized Risk Assessment Instruments, 83 Violence prevention plan, 79, 85
Strategic use of evidence (SUE), 96, 113-117 Voice stress analysis (VSA) & Layered VSA, 96,
Statement validity assessment (SVA), 96, 106- 113
107, 109, 113, 117
Stockholm syndrome, 266 W
Structured/unstructured interview, 56, 58, 62,
84, 96, 107, 159 Watkins, John, 184
Structured Clinical Interview for DSM Witness-compatible questioning, 156, 158, 161
Disorders (SCID), 56 Word association experiments, 151
Subjective units of distress (SUDS), 62 Wrongful conviction, 192, 196, 200, 206
Substance abuse, 12, 73
Suicide, xvi, 55, 76, 78, 235, 237-245, 247, 261, Y
264
Murder-suicide, 80-83 Young offender (young age – violence), 24, 29
Suicidal intent, 237-246 Younger suspects (false confessions), 192, 194,
Suicide note, 245, 251 200, 202, 205
Epidemiological patterns, 240-241 Z
Risk, 78, 82, 239
Suicide by cop, 83 Zoophilia, see Mental disorders - paraphilias

Tactical assaults, 258, 261, 264, 266-268, 270,

273