Criminal Psychology by Hans Gross (classic books for 10 year olds .txt) 📖

been built on barren, unexperienced, and unstudied material. The notion of criminal stigmata is, however, in no sense new, and Lombroso has not invented it; according to an incidental remark of Kant in his “Menschenkunde,”

the first who tried scientifically to interpret these otherwise ancient observations was the German J. B. Friedreich,[1] who says expressly that determinate somatic pathological phenomena may be shown to occur with certain moral perversions. It has been observed with approximate clearness in several types of cases.

So, for example, incendiarism occurs in the case of abnormal sexual conditions; poisoning also springs from abnormal sexual impulses; drowning is the consequence of oversatiated drink mania, etc.

Modern psychopathology knows nothing additional concerning these marvels; and similar matters which are spoken of nowadays again, have shown themselves incapable of demonstration. But that there are phenomena so related, and that their number is continually increasing under exact observations, is not open to doubt.[2] If we stop with the phenomena of daily life and keep in mind the ever-cited fact that everybody recognizes at a glance the old hunter, the retired officer, the actor, the aristocratic lady, etc., we may go still further: the more trained observers can recognize the merchant, the official, the butcher, the shoemaker, the real [1] J. B. Friedreich: System der Gericht. Psych.

 

[2] Cf. N<a:>cke in Gross’s Archiv, I, 200, and IX, 253.

 

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tramp, the Greek, the sexual pervert, etc. Hence follows an important law—_that if a fact is once recognized correctly in its coarser form, then the possibility must be granted that it is correct in its subtler manifestations_. The boundary between what is coarse and what is not may not be drawn at any particular point. It varies with the skill of the observer, with the character of the material before him, and with the excellence of his instruments, so that nobody can say where the possibility of progress in the matter ceases. Something must be granted in all questions appertaining to this subject of recognizable unit-characters and every layman pursues daily certain activities based on their existence. When he speaks of stupid and intelligent faces he is a physiognomist; he sees that there are intellectual foreheads and microcephalic ones, and is thus a craniologist; he observes the expression of fear and of joy, and so observes the principles of imitation; he contemplates a fine and elegant hand in contrast with a fat and mean hand, and therefore assents to the effectiveness of chirognomy; he finds one handwriting scholarly and fluid, another heavy, ornate and unpleasant; so he is dealing with the first principles of graphology;—all these observations and inferences are nowhere denied, and nobody can say where their attainable boundaries lie.

 

Hence, the only proper point of view to take is that from which we set aside as too bold, all daring and undemonstrated assertions on these matters. But we will equally beware of asserting without further consideration that far-reaching statements are unjustified, for we shall get very far by the use of keener and more careful observation, richer material, and better instruments.

 

How fine, for example, are the observations made by Herbert Spencer concerning the importance of the “timbre” of speech in the light of the emotional state—no one had ever thought of that before, or considered the possibilities of gaining anything of importance from this single datum which has since yielded such a rich collection of completely proved and correctly founded results.

Darwin knew well enough to make use of it for his own purposes.[1]

He points out that the person who is quietly complaining of bad treatment or is suffering a little, almost always speaks in a high tone of voice; and that deep groans or high and piercing shrieks indicate extreme pain. Now we lawyers can make just such observations in great number. Any one of us who has had a few experiences, can immediately recognize from the tone of voice with which a new [1] C. Darwin: The Expression of the Emotions.

 

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comer makes his requests just about what he wants. The accused, for example, who by chance does not know why he has been called to court, makes use of a questioning tone without really pronouncing his question. Anybody who is seriously wounded, speaks hoarsely and abruptly. The secret tone of voice of the querulous, and of such people who speak evil of another when they are only half or not at all convinced of it, gives them away. The voice of a denying criminal has in hundreds of cases been proved through a large number of physiological phenomena to do the same thing for him; the stimulation of the nerves influences before all the characteristic snapping movement of the mouth which alternates with the reflex tendency to swallow. In addition it causes lapses in blood pressure and palpitation of the heart by means of disturbances of the heart action, and this shows clearly visible palpitation of the right carotid (well within the breadth of hand under the ear in the middle of the right side of the neck). That the left carotid does not show the palpitation may be based on the fact that the right stands in much more direct connection with the aorta. All this, taken together, causes that so significant, lightly vibrating, cold and toneless voice, which is so often to be perceived in criminals who deny their guilt. It rarely deceives the expert.

 

But these various timbres of the voice especially contain a not insignificant danger for the criminalist. Whoever once has devoted himself to the study of them trusts them altogether too easily, for even if he has identified them correctly hundreds of times, it still may happen that he is completely deceived by a voice he holds as “characteristically demonstrative.” That timbres may deceive, or simulations worthy of the name occur, I hardly believe. Such deceptions are often attempted and begun, but they demand the entire attention of the person who tries them, and that can be given for only a short time. In the very instant that the matter he is speaking of requires the attention of the speaker, his voice involuntarily falls into that tone demanded by its physical determinants: and the speaker significantly betrays himself through just this alteration. We may conclude that an effective simulation is hardly thinkable.

 

It must, however, be noticed that earlier mistaken observations and incorrect inference at the present moment—substitutions and similar mistakes—may easily mislead. As a corroborative fact, then, the judgment of a voice would have great value; but as a means in itself it is a thing too little studied and far from confirmed.

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There is, however, another aspect of the matter which manifests itself in an opposite way from voice and gesture. Lazarus calls attention to the fact that the spectators at a fencing match can not prevent themselves from imitative accompaniment of the actions of the fencers, and that anybody who happens to have any swinging object in his hand moves his hand here and there as they do. Stricker[1]

makes similar observations concerning involuntary movements performed while looking at drilling or marching soldiers. Many other phenomena of the daily life—as, for example, keeping step with some pedestrian near us, with the movement of a pitcher who with all sorts of twistings of his body wants to guide the ball correctly when it has already long ago left his hand; keeping time to music and accompanying the rhythm of a wagon knocking on cobblestones; even the enforcement of what is said through appropriate gestures when people speak vivaciously—naturally belong to the same class.

So do nodding the head in agreement and shaking it in denial; shrugging the shoulders with a declaration of ignorance. The expression by word of mouth should have been enough and have needed no reinforcement through conventional gestures, but the last are spontaneously involuntary accompaniments.

 

On the other hand there is the converse fact that the voice may be influenced through expression and gesture. If we fix an expression on our features or bring our body into an attitude which involves passional excitement we may be sure that we will be affected more or less by the appropriate emotion. This statement, formulated by Maudsley, is perfectly true and may be proved by anybody at any moment. It presents itself to us as an effective corroboration of the so well-known phenomenon of “talking-yourself-into-it.” Suppose you correctly imagine how a very angry man looks: frowning brow, clenched fists, gritting teeth, hoarse, gasping voice, and suppose you imitate. Then, even if you feel most harmless and order-loving, you become quite angry though you keep up the imitation only a little while. By means of the imitation of lively bodily changes you may in the same way bring yourself into any conceivable emotional condition, the outer expressions of which appear energetically.

It must have occurred to every one of us how often prisoners present so well the excitement of passion that their earnestness is actually believed; as for example, the anger of a guiltless suspect or of an obviously needy person, of a man financially ruined by his trusted servant, etc. Such scenes of passion happen [1] S. Stricker: Studien <u:>ber die Bewegungsvorstellungen. Vienna 1882.

 

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daily in every court-house and they are so excellently presented that even an experienced judge believes in their reality and tells himself that such a thing can not be imitated because the imitation is altogether too hard to do and still harder to maintain. But in reality the presentation is not so wonderful, and taken altogether, is not at all skilful; whoever wants to manifest *anger must make the proper gestures (and that requires no art) and when he makes the gestures the necessary conditions occur and these stimulate and cause the correct manifestation of the later gestures, while these again influence the voice. Thus without any essential mummery the comedy plays itself out, self-sufficient, correct, convincing. Alarming oneself is not performed by words, but by the reciprocal influence of word and gesture, and the power of that influence is observable in the large number of cases where, in the end, people themselves believe what they have invented. If they are of delicate spiritual equilibrium they even become hypochondriacs. Writing, and the reading of writing, is to be considered in the same way as gesticulation; it has the same alarming influence on voice and general appearance as the other, so that it is relatively indifferent whether a man speaks and acts or writes and thinks. This fact is well known to everybody who has ever in his life written a really coarse letter.

 

Now this exciting gesticulation can be very easily observed, but the observation must not come too late. If the witness is once quite lost in it and sufficiently excited by the concomitant speeches he will make his gestures well and naturally and the artificial and untrue will not be discoverable. But this is not the case in the beginning; then his gestures are actually not skilful, and at that point a definite force of will and rather notable exaggerations are observable; the gestures go further than the words, and that is a matter not difficult to recognize. As soon as the recognition is made it becomes necessary to examine whether a certain congruity invariably manifests itself between word and gesture, inasmuch as with many people the above-mentioned lack of congruity is habitual and honest. This is particularly the case with people who are somewhat theatrical and hence gesticulate too much. But if word and gesture soon conform one to another, especially after a rather lively presentation, you may be certain that the subject has skilfully worked himself into his alarm or whatever it is he wanted to manifest.

Quite apart from the importance of seeing such a matter clearly the interest of the work is a rich