Providentia

After Little Albert (Part 2)

Continued from Part 1

As for his two sons from his later marriage,  how they were raised often led to disagreements between him and Rosalie.  A 1930 article that she wrote in Parent's Magazine reflected the issues that she had with her husband's ideas about child-rearing.  Titled, "I Am The Mother of a Behaviorist's Sons",  the article  showed only lukewarm support for John Watson's stern behaviourist principles.  She even went so far as to suggest that her children be raised with an appreciation of art and music (which her husband often dismissed as frivolous).   Rosalie added that "In some respects I bow to the great wisdom in the science of behaviorism, and in others I am rebellious. ... I like being merry and gay and having the giggles.  The behaviorists think giggling is a sign of maladjustment."    Unfortunately, her positive influence on her sons would be brief.   After a bout with dysentery which grew worse despite treatment,  Rosalie Rayner Watson died at the age of 35 leaving John Watson to raise their children alone.   Devastated by Rosalie's death, he would never mention her name in his children's presence again.  As William and James Watson would later describe, his announcing to them that their mother had died was one of the few times that he had ever hugged them. 

Aside from advertising work (from which he eventually retired after a few years),  John Watson became a virtual recluse on his farm.   While he would be involved with other women, he never remarried and began to neglect his personal appearance and hygiene as he grew more eccentric.  In 1957, he was surprised when the American Psychological Association told him that he would be awarded a gold medal for his contributions to psychology.  Despite going with his sons to New York to receive the award,  he asked one of them to stand in for him at the last moment out of fear that he would burst into tears during the public ceremony.  The inscription on the medal read:

To John B. Watson whose work has been one of the vital determinants of the form and substance of modern psychology.  He initiated a revolution in psychological thought and his writings have been the point of departure for continuing lines of fruitful research.

Considering that John Watson's academic contributions had been overshadowed by later theorists and even his staunchest defenders had since rejected his extreme behaviourist position, it was a magnaminous tribute.  He died a year later at the age of eighty.   His older son William, who suffered from longstanding emotional problems despite becoming a successful Freudian psychoanalyst (which likely grieved his behaviourist father),  eventually commited suicide four years after his father's death.   Ironically,  William Watson's suicide may have led to a persistent urban legend surrounding  the supposed suicide of B.F. Skinner's younger daughter Deborah due to her spending part of her infancy in an Air Crib designed by her father  (Deborah Skinner Buzan has since devoted many years of her life debunking that particular rumour). 

As for his other son, James Watson did relatively better in life.  In a 1981 symposium at the annual meeting of the American Psychological Association in Los Angeles, he would say that:

Both dad and mother, although she died when I was still a child, rigorously pursued the foundation teachings of behaviorism. Frankly, I think that a better end product would have resulted if the process of growing up had been [tempered] with some measure of affection -- it certainly would have made growing up less like a business proposition where one is judged by bottom-line performance.   It is my hope that the teachings of his disciples and others who have followed him have tempered the emotionally spartan upbringing that he espoused. His behavioristic theories on child development unquestionably have value in terms of life's preparation through the setting of standards and developing an understanding of the parameters of acceptable and responsible behavior, but they could have been much improved if one were permitted to mix in a big helping of parental affection. I believe to do so would provide a better psychological foundation for all of us who, at one time or another in life, are ultimately put to the test of weathering the emotional storms that often topple people because of the frail egos and low levels of self-esteem, which usually result from a childhood diet that lacks a deeper sense of human connection.

Although James Watson would later backtrack on his criticism of his father's ideas, other members of John's family would be less generous.  The most well-known of John Watson's descendants is his granddaughter, actress Mariette Hartley (of whom I happen to be a long-time fan).    In her 1990 book, Breaking the Silence, she described her own emotional problems growing up with her mother, John Watson's daughter Polly.   While Ms. Hartley eventually survived her mother's alcoholism and suicide attempts as well as many of the other tragedies that nearly overwhelmed her, the consequences of John Watson's theories definitely had an influence.  As Ms. Hartley would state in her book: 

Grandfather's theories infected my mother's life, my life, and the lives of millions. How do you break a legacy? How do you keep from passing a debilitating inheritance down, generation to generation, like a genetic flaw?

While John Watson died believing to the end that the psychological revolution that he had helped bring about would change psychology forever, he was largely mistaken.   Even in his lifetime, neobehaviourists such as Clark Hull and B.F. Skinner would demonstrate that the radical behaviourism endorsed by Watson was far too simplistic to explain something as complex as behaviour (whether in humans or animals).   As new models of cognitive, motivational, and biological psychology came along, Watson's old theories seemed increasingly out of step with the more diversified view of psychology favoured today.  

Despite his extreme behaviourism falling out of favour, John Broadus Watson is still considered to be one of the central figures in psychology's history.   From the "Little Albert" experiment to his highly controversial theories on raising children, he may well be remembered more as a showman for his own special brand of psychology than as a scientist.  Whatever his impact, both personal and professional,  he remains larger than life.

And that may well be the legacy he would have wanted most.

 

 

The Devil in the Convent

Beginning in 1632, rumours spread throughout the town of Loudon, France about a strange outbreak occurring in the local Ursuline convent.   All of the nuns, including the Mother Superior began experiencing strange convulsions and "using abusive language" (although the lurid details kept changing as the rumours spread).   Although the nuns and their priest had attempted to hide what was happening for as long as possible,  tales of the demonic possession occurring in the convent eventually led to a formal investigation.

The convent, which had only been founded a few years earlier, already had a reputation for pious living and also functioned as a boarding school for the daughters of well-off families. Almost all of the seventeen nuns in the convent, including the Mother Superior Jeanne des Anges, belonged to minor noble families although the sisters had a difficult time making ends meet. The convent had no income aside from tuition fees and their only significant property was the convent house itself. Due to the reforms imposed by the Council of Trent some decades previously, convent life was strictly controlled by the Church with no males allowed inside the convent walls except for the Father Confessor.    On recently being appointed to that post, the new Confessor Canon Mignon was certainly alarmed by what the nuns began telling him about strange nightly visitations by demons, apparently intent on seducing them. Beginning with the Mother Superior herself and eventually spreading to all of the other nuns in the convent, signs of demonic possession, including sexual moaning, convulsions, speaking in tongues (glossolalia), and visions quickly spiralled out of control.  Canon Mignon consulted various medical doctors and eventually arranged for exorcisms to try controlling what was happening.   He and his fellow priests became increasingly alarmed when the nuns reacted to the exorcisms by screaming and making lewd sexual advances towards the priests.   Even more outrageous was the Mother Superior accusing a local priest, Urbain Grandier, of being responsible for what was happening.    The nuns, led by Jeanne des Anges, insisted that the possessions were due to two devils named Asmodeus and Zabulon and that Grandier had sent them to the convent after throwing roses over the convent wall.

Grandier was, by all accounts, a most unusual priest. Handsome and well-connected, he had already gained a scandalous reputation, not only for being politically outspoken but also for the less-than discreet affairs that he had with numerous women in the town (including fathering several children). Despite numerous complaints by outraged husbands and fathers, Grandier was protected by the local Huguenot community who admired his outspokenness and his bold attacks on the Church and its special privileges. When his bishop had Grandier arrested in 1630, he was formally banned from serving as a priest in Loudun at which point his family and friends went to work on his behalf. Using bribery and intimidation of the witnesses against Grandier, they managed to have him reinstated in 1631. All that the ecclesiastic panel was able to do was to issue a mild warning for Grandier to “behave well and decently according to the Holy Decretals and Canonical Constitutions”.  Although the bishop warned Grandier to leave Loudun, he ignored the advice and regarded his acquittal as a total victory. He even went so far as to harass all of the townspeople who had testified against him including demanding legal restitution in court.   While friends tried to talk him out of this campaign, he ignored them all. It would be a costly mistake.

Ironically, Urbain Grandier had offered his name for the post of Father Confessor for the Ursuline convent in town despite his sinister reputation. The job went to Canon Mignon instead and sparked an uncomfortable rivalry between the two priests, especially since Mignon had been involved in his previous trial.  As for the nuns, many of whom had supported Grandier becoming the Father Confessor for the convent, exactly what was causing the strange stories of nightly visitations and demonic seductions is still open to question. Whether Urbain Grandier was actually sneaking into the convent somehow or whether the strange epidemic was entirely due to mass hysteria on the part of the nuns, the rumours of what was happening in the convent spread beyond the town. Not only did parents withdraw all of the convent’s students one by one, but the convent's nuns were left completely destitute when their own families withdrew all support.   

Urbain Grandier knew full well the danger that he was in and he arranged with the Archbishop of  Bourdeaux to have his personal doctor examine the nuns.  When no medical evidence for the possessions was found, the Archbishop ordered the exorcisms to end and arranged for the nuns to be imprisoned n their cells.  Canon Mignon and his assistant then went over the Archbishop's head and asked King Louis XIII's chief minister Cardinal Richelieu to order an investigation.   Since Richelieu was a frequent target of Grandier's political diatribes, he likely saw this as an excellent opportunity to rid himself of the renegade priest once and for all.    That one of Richelieu's own relatives was one of the Loudun nuns likely didn't help matters either.  The Cardinal sent a team of investigators to Loudun and authorized them to do whatever was necessary to end the possessions (including threatening to tear down the convent and the surrounding town).

During a public exorcism conducted before more than seven  thousand people, the chief exorcist, Father Jean-Joseph Surin invited the demons possessing the nuns to inhabit his own body, the demons reportedly complied and he "lost mental balance as a result".  Father Surin inflicted various injuries on himself and then attempted suicide.   After being restrained and regaining his sanity,the exorcist said that he was "unable to understand what happened to him" when the unknown spirit entered his body.   As the exorcisms continued, the accusations against Grandier became even more lurid and the nuns claimed that they were possessed by a multitude of demons.    When Grandier attempted an exorcism himself to clear his name,  the supposedly possessed nuns answered his threats by making him seem more guilty than ever (their testimony had likely been coached by Richelieu's investigators).     After a formal document surfaced, allegedly showing the pact between Grandier and Satan and written in blood,  Grandier's fate was likely sealed.   

Urbain Grandier was imprisoned at the Castle of Angier in December, 1633.   Despite protests by his supporters, he was stripped, shaved, and his body searched for "devil's marks".  When he refused to confess to sorcery, he was repeatedly tortured according to the practices laid out n the Malleus Maleficarum.    Anyone courageous enough to speak out on Grandier's behalf (including some of the nuns) were threatened by the Church and the Crown.   Eventually, the presiding inquisitor announced that anyone who testified in favour of Grandier would be declared traitors to France and have their property seized.   With all supporters silenced, the outcome of Urbain Grandier's trial was a foregone conclusion.  He was found guilty of magic, maleficia, and of "causing demoniacal possession of several Ursuline nuns of this town of Loudun, as well as of other secular women, together with other charges and crimes resulting therefrom".   Grandier's steadfast refusal to confess his crime despite being his torture and the severity of his punishment hardly moved his persecutors.  As one of the monks charged with trying to convert him prior to his execution later said, "I am not astonished at his impenitence, nor at his refusal to admit himself guilty of magic, both under torture and at his execution, for it is known that magicians promise the devil never to confess the crime, and he in turn hardens their heart". 

Despite promises that he would be allowed to make a public statement and that he would be humanely garroted beforehand, Urbain Grandier was burned alive at the stake on August 18, 1634.  According to one story, Grandier promised that one of the attending priests, Father Lactance, would died within thirty days and that many of his other persecutors would die as well.  While Father Lactance died on schedule (reportedly crying that he was not responsible for Grandier's death),  the legends surrounding Urbain Grandier and the Loudun possessions hardly ended there.   Many of the participants who were involved in  Grandier's execution died within a few years of his execution, whether due to remorse or a dying magician's curse seems to depend on which account of the time you happen to read.

And the Loudun possessions didn't end with Grandier's death either.  Mother Superior Jeanne des Anges (who seemed to have some exaggerated views of her own  piety) insisted that the exorcisms continue since she and her nuns were still being possessed by devils.   Public exorcisms of the nuns continued until 1637  when Richelieu himself ordered them stopped and the investigation ended.  Hardly anyone else in positions of power really believed that Grandier had been guilty but the story of the Loudun possessions and Grandier's fate made for a graphic lesson of what happened to anyone who crossed Cardinal Richelieu.   That the public exorcisms helped convince many local Protestants to convert to Catholicism seemed to be an extra benefit.   As for the "contract" with Satan supposedly signed by Grandier, many modern historians are divided over whether Grandier's signature had been completely forged or whether Grandier had signed it himself during one of his torture sessions.

Whether the Loudun possessions began with mass hysteria or as an entirely staged power play on Cardinal Richelieu's part, the case has been examined in depth by numerous authors including Alexander Dumas (pere) and Jules Michelet.  Aldous Huxley's full-length book, The Devils of Loudun was published in 1952 and inspired a successful stage play as well as  a classic horror film by Ken Russell.    The continuing fascination with Urbain Grandier's case may well be due to the role that religious persecution and cynical political manipulation played in his torture and gruesome death.  That accused sorcerers are being killed today over evidence just as flimsy as what condemned Grandier centuries ago suggests that the lessons of his case have still not been completely learned.

 

 

Stop Worrying. Get Your Life Back on Track with CBT

The 2010 book Stop Worrying. Get Your Life Back on Track with CBT by Ad Kerkhof was reviewed in a recent issue of Crisis: The Journal of Crisis Intervention and Suicide Prevention.  According to the review, worrying is a widespread source of stress of everyday life in developed countries. Worry can disturb sleep and, through ongoing vegetative and endocrine arousal, contributes to various emotional disorders. Worrying is a basic process of depression and may thereby lead to suicide. This phenomenon surely motivated Ad Kerkhof and his coworkers to devise a new program to combat worrying on a do-it-yourself basis. The program outlined consists of a 4-week series of exercises detecting, identifying, monitoring, and counteracting the process of worrying, using clear guidelines and a simple manual to document feelings experienced daily as well as measures to be employed in order to get rid of—or at least to modify—cognitive elements of anxiety.

For more information.

The Opium Eater

Papaver somniferum is an ornamental plant cultivated for its vividly coloured blooms, hardy disposition, and ease of growing in all climates and under almost all conditions.  Popular with horticulturists, nurseries, and gardeners of all backgrounds, its seeds can be roasted, ground into paste, and used in different exotic cuisines.  First grown in the western Mediterranean region, archaeological digs have found traces of poppy production dating back to 4000 BCE and was likely first cultivated for food and the rich, edible oil that the poppy plant produces.  By 1000 BC, poppy production had spread to central Europe and Aegean regions as Greek and Roman physicians spread knowledge of the plant's various medical uses.  Of course, nowadays, Papaver somniferum is best known under another name after its most famous product, the opium poppy.

Although the anesthetic properties of the milky, latex sap of the opium poppy have been known since ancient times, its use as a recreational drug is relatively more recent.  Since Islamic law didn't ban opium use as it did alcohol, the opium trade flourished in the Arab world from the 7th century onward.  Opium could be smoked in pipes, mixed with tobacco,diluted in alcohol (laudanum), or otherwise ingested in a range of different ways.  The poppy became a major cash crop and trade flourished across the world.  Portuguese traders made a rich profit exporting Indian opium to China and other eastern countries.  Eventually, the British East India Company formed a virtual monopoly on the opium trade in the 18th century and opium import became a major source of revenue for the British Empire.  Attempts by China to ban its import led to a series of Opium Wars that raged throughout the 19th century and left a legacy of bitterness that still affects Chinese-British relations to this day.

In Europe meanwhile, opium became widely available as its medicinal value became apparent.  Until the introduction of opium derivatives such as morphine (introduced in 1804) and heroin (introduced in 1898), opium was the chief analgesic used by physicians in dealing with severe pain.  Thomas Sydenham (who, among other things, introduced laudanum to the U.K.) wrote that 'Among the remedies which it has pleased Almighty God to give to man to relieve his sufferings, none is so universal and efficacious as opium'.  Many patent medicines of the 18th and 19th century included liberal doses of opium. With names such as "Munn's Elixir", "Mrs Winslow's Soothing Syrup" and "Godfrey's Cordial", they were often advertised to the public as "cures for consumption", "pain killers" or "the woman's friend".   Pills containing opium could be bought and sold on market day in many places and people often "stocked up" to see themselves through the week.

Despite early warnings about the dangers of opium intoxication and withdrawal, testimonials concerning the recreational use of opium in Ottoman societies (along with coffee and hashish), led to its becoming popular in Europe as well.  This brings us to Thomas de Quincey.  

Born in 1785, the future author and intellectual would be sickly through most of his early life.  Despite his health problems, the budding scholar showed his intellectual prowess by entering Oxford University at a young age   Being a loner, he gravitated towards opium and laudanum use and eventually left Oxford without graduating.  While marrying and raising a large family, financial problems and his continuing opium dependence led to several stints in debtor's prison.  Only with his mother's death and the small inheritance he received (along with his daughters becoming old enough to manage his finances directly) did de Quincey attain any kind of real economic independence.

When de Quincey published Confessions of an English Opium Eater in 1821, he quickly became a literary success.  Still his best known work, de Quincey's autobiographical description of his opium use was first serialized in the London magazine (it was released in book form a year later).  Covering the period of his life from 1804 to 1812, de Quincey's book details his discovery of opium and provides a look into the widespread availability of the drug in his day (it also introduced the word "tranquilizer" to the English language).  In the opening chapter of the book, de Quincey writes, "I have often been asked how I first came to be a regular opium-eater and have suffered, in the opinion of my acquaintances from being reputed to have brought on myself all the sufferings which I shall have to record, by a long course of indulgence in this practice purely for the sake of creating a state of artificial excitement".   Through the course of the book, de Quincey described his early childhood, his education, and his life after leaving Oxford.  He also discussed the stomach and facial pain (trigeminal neuralgia) that led to his first taking opium on the recommendation of a friend.  In describing the "pleasures of opium", de Quincey was lyrical in describing the glorious visions that he experienced through opium use ("thou hast the keys to Paradise, oh just, subtle, and mighty opium!").  He also took laudanum on a monthly basis and was often seen staggering through the streets of London while intoxicated.

As de Quincey's pain problems worsened, his opium use grew more frequent and he became a "regular and confirmed opium-eater" (opium-eater was the accepted term no matter what form the opium use took).  In addition to his daily opium sessions, he eventually took as much as 8000 drops of laudanum daily.  The longest section of the book, The Pains of Opium, detailed his downward spiral as the opium addiction gradually took over his life as well as the crippling withdrawal effects that he experienced when he eventually attempted to control his addiction.  Since the medical community hardly acknowledged that "drug addiction" even existed (the first attempts at medical treatment of addiction wouldn't get started until the late 19th century), Thomas de Quincey had few resources to help him cope with his drug dependence.  He would remain an opium addict for the rest of his life. 

Alarmed critics condemned de Quincey's work as being too positive and Confessions of an English Opium Eater inspired many later writers to experiment with opium (including Branwell Bronte, Edgar Allen Poe, and Charles Baudelaire).  While de Quincey answered his critics by including medical information on opium withdrawal in later editions of his book, his planned sequel, Suspiria de Profundis never materialized.  By the time of his death in 1850, de Quincey was largely a broken man due to his lifelong addiction, his estrangement from his literary friends, his poverty, and outliving most of his children (one son died in the Opium Wars although de Quincey likely didn't appreciate the irony).

Along with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Thomas de Quincey is remembered as one of the high priests of the literary drug culture that flourished in the 18th and 19th centuries (he once called himself the "Pope of the true church" regarding opium).  Despite the literary respectability that de Quincey and his fellow-writers gave the drug, the widespread availability of opium and the tendency of physicians to over-prescribe it for pain problems remained the primary cause of opium addiction in most societies. The opium trade only ended with the advent of morphine and heroin (along with competitors such as cocaine).  As new "highs" became available (most of which were legal at the time mind you), drug addiction finally became formally recognized as a serious social problem. Still, it was only during the first decades of the 20th century that the backlash truly began. 

The Counterfeit Lama

Beginning in the 1950s and continuing for decades afterward, the name Tuesday Lobsang Rampa was synonymous with the occult and exotic.  When his first book, The Third Eye, was published in 1956, the author (who had originally gone by the name of "Doctor Carl Kon Suo") described his training as a Tibetan monk.  As Rampa related in his book, he had originally been sent to a monastery at the age of seven and began his  arduous training by having the "Third Eye" awakened to enhance his powers of clairvoyance.  The operation involved a small hole being drilled into his forehead with a U-shaped awl.  In his book, Rampa stated that, "one of the lamas "pressed the instrument to the center of my forehead and rotated the handle. . . . There was a little jolt as the end hit the bone. He applied more pressure. . . . There was a little 'scrunch' and the instrument penetrated the bone. . . . Suddenly there was a blinding flash. . . ." "You are now one of us, Lobsang," the lama said. "For the rest of your life you will see people as they are and not as they pretend to be".  He called himself Tuesday Lobsang Rampa since that was the day of the week on which he was born (which he claimed was a Tibetan tradition for birthnames).

While the notion that the human pineal gland was the seat of the soul and the centre of mystical experience dates back to ancient times (and made famous by Rene Descartes), the use of trepanation techniques to enhance psychic powers has been explored to some extent in occult literature.  Still, it was T. Lobsang Rampa who made the idea famous with his best-selling book .  Rampa also described how the trepanning operation gave him tremendous psychic powers including the ability to diagnose disease by reading "auras", astral travel, and levitation.  He also discussed his meeting with yetis, advising the Dalai Lama, being imprisoned in Russian and Japanese concentration camps, and serving as a medical officer in China.  Readers were awed by the vivid descriptions of the mysterious world hidden in Tibetan monasteries. 

Unfortunately, people who had actual experience of life in Tibet were not so impressed by the book's numerous errors.  Suspicion over Lobsang Rampa's fantastic claims led to a formal investigation by Liverpool private investigator, Clifford Burgess.  The results of Burgess' investigation were eventually published in 1958 in an issue of U.K. tabloid the Daily Mail and revealed that Tuesday Lobsang Rampa was actually Cyril Henry Hoskins.  The son of a Devon plumber, Hoskins had never visited Tibet and didn't even own a passport at the time his book came out.  Prior to 1956, Hoskins was working as a clerk in London while trying to become a successful writer.  At some point, he decided to shave his head, grow a beard, dress in elaborate Chinese robes, and change his name to Carl Kon Suo.  After being confronted with these revelations, Hoskins made no attempt to deny them.  As he would explain in a later book, Hoskins' body was possessed by  T. Lobsang Rampa's spirit after falling out of a tree in the backyard of his Surrey home.   Since Hoskins had become dissatisfied with his own life, he agreed to allow Rampa's spirit to enter his body. 

Despite his very public exposure, it was hardly the end of Tuesday Lobsang Rampa.  Although his British publisher canceled plans for Hoskins' next book, his American publisher was a little more ambivalent about distancing themselves.  In a prepared statement, a representative for Doubleday said that: "We expected that people would think it good reading, but not necessarily true."  The controversy over the authenticity of Rampa's book simply drove further sales.  In 1964, The Third Eye was reissued by Ballantine Books (with no mention of the controversy) and has gone on to multiple printings.  In the forward, Lobsang Rampa dismissed all claims against him as being due to "vicious hatred" by his many enemies and that all events in The Third Eye were true. He also added that, "I am Tuesday Lobsang Rampa, that is my only name, now my legal name, and I answer to no other"

Lobsang Rampa went on to write an additional eighteen books including My Visit to Venus, The Saffron Robe, You Forever, and Three Lives.  He also put out a Rampa Meditation Kit including a saffron robe, incense and burner, and a tape of Tibetan monastic chants.  Even his wife San Ra'ab Rampa published several books describing her life with Rampa.  During the 1960s, Lobsang Rampa and his wife immigrated to Canada to escape the high income tax on his royalties.  They both became Canadian citizens and established an ashram in Toronto.  Long after his death in a Calgary hospital in 1981, Lobsang Rampa's books have remained in print and sold millions of copies around the world.  Ironically, the greatest appeal for Rampa's teachings seemed to be in Western countries.  There was little support for the books in India or the rest of Asia where the obvious mistakes could be easily spotted.  At least one journalist has argued that Tuesday Lobsang Rampa was largely a creation of the Western media.

Even today, Tuesday Lobsang Rampa has his supporters as well as an active organization propagating his rather, unique, take on Tibetan mysticism.  Although the 14th Dalai Lama himself has publicly denounced Rampa's books, accusations of "conspiracy" continue to be laid against skeptics.  The Rampa movement has declined in recent years as other cult religions have become better known but the books are still being sold in occult bookstores as well as online (with no mention of the disputed authorship).

As for Cyril Henry Hoskins/Tuesday Lobsang Rampa himself, it's hard to decide what to make of him.  Whether it was fraud or self-deception (or some combination of the two), he certainly knew how to write books that people wanted to read.  Even with more information about mystery religions from faraway lands becoming available, self-appointed religious figures are still able to attract the kind of following that Rampa did.  

Belief can be a strange thing.

On Race and Schizophrenia

A new book released by a researcher at the University of Michigan has concluded that black men are five times more likely to be diagnosed with schizophrenia than white patients and that the trend dates back to the 1960s.  In his book, titled The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease, Dr. Jonathan Metzl, an associate professor of Psychiatry and Women's Studies  and director of the University of Michigan's Program in Culture, Health and Medicine, provides an overview of his archival research examining decades of psychiatric admissions to the Ionia State Hospital  in Michigan's Ionia County.  Before its closure in 1972, the hospital (one known as the Michigan Asylum for the Criminally Insane) often housed the most severely disturbed psychiatric patients in the state, including offenders who had been found not guilty for reasons of insanity.

In presenting his conclusions , Dr. Metzl noted a dramatic shift over time in how schizophrenia was viewed by treating psychiatrists.  When the schizophrenia diagnosis was first introduced at the dawn of the20th century, psychiatrists often viewed schizophrenics as being primarily docile.  Until the 1940s, diagnosed schizophrenics were often white, middle-class females whose behaviour was deemed inappropriate by civil authorities or their own families.  During the 1960s , with the advent of the the civil rights era in the U.S., a redefinition of schizophrenia occurred leading to an increasing tendency to diagnose violent black men as suffering from the disease. The former perception of schizophrenics as being non-violent changed and schizophrenics were more likely to be seen by psychiatrists and the general population as being violent, unpredictable, and in need of psychotropic medication to control theirbehaviour .  This shift was reflected in the popular media with "mad slasher" films and newspaper accounts of violent psychosis becoming more prevalent.

Metzl also discussed psychiatric literature from 1968 relating to "protest psychosis": a supposed condition in which black men developed "hostility, aggression, and delusional anti-whiteness after listening to Malcolm X, joining the black Muslims, or engaging in Civil Rights protests".  Not surprising, the schizophrenia diagnosis became a handy way of dealing with black activists who were often sent to psychiatric hospitals and subjected to involuntary psychiatric treatment. According to Metzl's statistics, 88 percent of Ionia's post-1960 "US Negro" admissions- 9 6 percent of whom were male-were diagnosed with schizophrenia.  By comparison, only 44.6 percent of "U.S. White" admissions received the schizophrenia diagnosis.  Black schizophrenics were also more likely to be regarded as violent.  The book provides specific case histories which highlight the changes thatMetzl noted.

In his book, Metzl concluded that  "the transition of schizophrenia from a disease of white, feminine docility to one of black, male hostility resulted from a confluence of social and medical forces."  Whatever their actual mental status on admission to psychiatric hospitals, forced psychiatric treatment almost certainly led to their mental deterioration over the course of their hospitalization and after their release.

Whether or not you agree with Jonathan Metzl's conclusions (and I'm not entirely sure that I do), his provocative arguments concerning the role of cultural and political factors in psychiatric diagnosis and treatment are sure to trigger debate. We are still dealing with the consequences of this radical shift in psychiatric admissions even in the era ofdeinstitutionalization , both in terms of homeless mentally ill and treating diagnosed schizophrenics in the prison system.  Perhaps most of all, we are dealing with this legacy of the 1960s in terms of the persistent stigma thatstill surrounds mental illness and how people with psychiatric problems are treated.

For more information.

Madame Pinson

Visitors to the sanitarium on the outskirts of Paris during the early years of the twentieth century would have been struck by her appearance.  Living in a special villa on the sanitarium grounds, the elderly woman hardly spoke a word but her thin, refined appearance still had some traces of her former beauty. Her full-time attendant saw to all her needs and even helped her to go out on occasion to attend the opera or walk in local Paris gardens. While she needed to be watched carefully at times to keep her from harming herself, her famous name and her own tragedy kept her in the spotlight until her death. As the sole surviving child of one of the world`s most well-known authors, the royalties from her father`s many works ensured that all her financial needs were met.

Born in 1830, Adele Hugo was the fifth child of Victor Hugo and his wife, Adele Foucher.Her father`s early fame for his classic works such as The Hunchback of Notre Dame, ensured that Adele grew up knowing some of the world's greatest authors and she certainly made an impression on them in turn (Honore de Balzac described Adele as "the greatest beauty I shall ever see"). The drowning death of her vivacious older sister, Leopoldine, in 1843 while on her honeymoon. left Adele emotionally devastated. A few years later, Victor's political views forced him and his entire family into exile on the Channel island of Guernsey. He would not return to France until 1870.

Life in exile would not be easy for Adele. Not only was she separated from the life she knew in France, but she was constantly overshadowed by her famous father She wrote about life in Guernsey in a diary that was eventually published under the title Journey de l'Exil (Journey of the Exile). The diary includes her observation on life in the Hugo household (including her father's numerous infidelities) as well as her own growing obsessions with the supernatural.

By 1856, she began showing signs of the mental instability that seemed to run in the family (Victor's brother Eugene died in a psychiatric hospital in 1823). Adele's belief that her sister, Leopoldine, was contacting her from the spirit world led to the the lifelong habit of "tapping every night on her bedroom wall according to some superstitious ritual". It probably didn't help that her parents were fascinated with spiritualism themselves and conducted seances in their house for years before Adele's bizarre beliefs became known.

And then she met Albert Pinson..

Whether Pinson was a heartless cad or a befuddled victim of erotomania pretty much depends on who you believe. Whatever passed between them after their first meeting in Guernsey, Adele quickly fixated on the handsome lieutenant. Despite her father's fame and fortune, Pinson evidently lost interest in her but Adele had other ideas. When he was transferred to Halifax, Nova Scotia in 1863, Adele followed him there (she stole her mother's jewelry to finance the trip).

During the three years that Adele spent in Halifax, she insisted that she was Albert's fiancee despite her family's opposition. She told Pinson that she had given birth to their stillborn child (there was no evidence of this) and finally wrote to her brother, Francois-Victor, that she and Albert had been married that year. Despite their apprehension, the family dutifully posted a wedding announcement in a Guernsey paper. Adele later wrote her brother and confessed that the marriage had not happened but she was still hopeful (she even talked about hiring a hypnotist to "persuade" Albert to propose).

You can probably imagine the family's reaction when Albert wrote to Francois-Victor later that year. He was horrified by the wedding announcement.  Not only did have absolutely no intention of marrying Adele, he was planning to marry someone else. Adele's brother pleaded with Adele to "divorce" Albert and return to France but she refused. Nobody in Halifax knew her true identity until Albert's engagement to the daughter of a local judge was announced. Adele had her lawyers write to the judge informing him that she was Albert's true wife and that they had been secretly married in an Anglican church. Despite Albert's protests, the judge called off the engagement. According to later sources, Adele's claims weren't totally delusional since Pinson visited her on occasion. She had no visitors otherwise and relied on money from her family.

When Albert was transferred to Barbados in 1866, Adele followed him there. Little is known about the six years that she spent in the West Indies but her condition deteriorated as she became more isolated (her mother and brother both died during her time on the island). She insisted on being called "Madame Pinson" although Albert had left the island by 1869. One observer commented on Adele's "sad, disheveled appearance, her wardrobe ill-suited to the tropical climate, her habit of writing constantly, her practice of wandering the streets at all hours of the day". She even preferred to walk the streets at night since children often threw stones at her.

Out of pity, a local woman named Madame Celine Baa befriended Adele. When she discovered her father's identity, Madama Baa wrote to him about his daughter's condition. Victor Hugo arranged for Madame Baa to bring Adele back to France in February, 1872. It was a pathetic homecoming for the once independent Adele since her father was the only surviving member of the family. Adele never recovered her sanity and spent the rest of her life in a psychiatric asylum in Vincennes. Victor Hugo visited her regularly until his death in 1885 and his will established a substantial trust to pay for her care.

By the time Adele Hugo died in 1915, her story was largely forgotten until 1975 when a movie directed by Francois Truffaut was released. Titled The Story of Adele H., the drama was based on Adele Hugo's story and starred Isabelle Adjani in the title role. Her gripping portrayal of Adele earned Adjani a well-deserved Academy Award nomination and ensured that Adele's strange tale of obsessive love and madness will be remembered.

Jekyll, Hyde and Brodie

When Robert Louis Stevenson first published The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde in 1886, it was an immediate success and became one of his most memorable classics. Through numerous movies, television dramatizations, and plays, the story has entered the cultural mainstream. Although Stevenson had originally meant the book to explore his fascination with the duality of good and evil (which he had briefly touched on in his early short story, Markheim), he was largely inspired by a famous case that had rocked eighteenth century Scotland.

Born in 1741 in Edinburgh, Scotland, William Brodie was the son of a prominent cabinetmaker and was likely considered quite a disappointment to his parents. From an early age, he was reportedly a gambler and a playboy who was off gambling even while his father lay dying. He had a knack for charming family and friends into forgiving his excesses, though. After his father died, Brodie apparently straightened out his life to become a successful cabinetmaker in his own right. Not only was he a member of the Edinburgh city council, he was also elected deacon (chairman) of the local trades guild. He socialized frequently and was a well-known figure in Edinburgh society.

During the evening hours, things were very different. His gambling had continued and, finding himself running short of money, decided to supplement his income through crime. Brodie's legitimate work gave him the opportunity to take wax impressions of the main doors of the various houses that he would later burglarize. Teaming up with an English locksmith named George Smith, his criminal career was impressive (he and his gang once stole the silver mace from the University of Edinburgh).

The energetic Brodie certainly needed the income from his criminal activities. In addition to fueling his chronic gambling, he also maintained two mistresses in separate households (neither of whom knew about the other), and had numerous children. While his gang continued to terrorize Edinburgh, Brodie maintained his image as a prosperous businessman. As a respected cabinetmaker and carpenter, he was in a position to install locks and security devices in businesses and private homes across the city (while checking out places for his gang to rob).

It all came to an end with a disastrous armed raid on a government Excise office in Chessel's Court, Canongate in 1786. Although Brodie planned the operation himself, too many things went wrong and the gang only barely escaped. The city council posted a huge reward and one of the newer gang members (there being no honour among thieves) decided to turn King's evidence. Brodie managed to get word that the other gang members had been arrested and fled to Amsterdam. Things still grew too hot for him there and he was arrested by Dutch police just before he could board a boat to America.

Extradited back to Scotland, William Brodie went on trial on August 27th, 1788. The trial records are still available and make for fascinating reading.  He pled not guilty and his testimony was filled with righteous indignation against the "designing villain John Brown" (the gang member who had turned him in). Building a case against Brodie would have been difficult if a careful search of his house hadn't turned up assorted burglary tools. William Brodie and George Smith were sentenced to be hanged on October 1, 1788.

There still seems to be some confusion as to what happened with the actual hanging at the Tolbooth prison in Aberdeen. At least one account maintains that Brodie had arranged to wear a steel collar to the gallows (and had bribed the executioner to ignore it) so that he could survive the hanging. Despite the arrangements that he had made to have his body quickly removed, he could not be revived and was later buried in an unmarked grave in a churchyard in Buccleuch. There were later rumours of his having cheated the hangman and fleeing to Paris but no real evidence exists of this.

It's not hard to see what inspired Stevenson to base his novel on William Brodie's double life. On one hand, he was a prosperous businessman and respected craftsman (who, among other things, made much of the scaffolding on the gallows that was later used to hang him). On the other hand, he was the notorious leader of a gang of thieves that plagued Edinburgh for years. Much of the resemblance ends there though. Brodie was never a saintly Henry Jekyll, or even a thuggish Edward Hyde. He was just a full-time criminal who was particularly good at pretending to be law-abiding.

For all that there was no evidence of the psychological conflict that marked Stevenson's title character, the novel gave William Brodie a curious literary immortality. Along with a pub and alleyway named for him on Edinburgh's Royal Mile (which I plan to visit the next time I'm there), the novel is a strange monument to this once-feared master criminal.