Dean Borland fumed but nodded, handing Erin the same section from a second copy of the paper he had on his desk. She and Apgar read silently while the dean drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently.
The story spoke of the progress being made in the study of psychopathy, especially focusing on the differences in brain physiology that were continuing to be uncovered almost every year now. And then the story got to Erin, who was quoted on the second page. She was introduced as a graduate student at the University of Arizona, studying differences in the brains of psychopaths and normals, both with respect to their structure and the electrical patterns given off in response to certain stimuli. The article went on to say:
Ms. Palmer says that her ultimate objective is to perfect a diagnostic that can identify a psychopath from the electrical patterns of their brains—and do so remotely. “The technology isn’t quite there yet,” she explains. “But great progress is being made on two fronts. First, scientists are learning how to pick up electrical impulses from the brain to control artificial limbs, video games, and the like. If we can download movies wirelessly, we should be able to detect brain waves wirelessly—at least from a short distance. The trick is to find identifiable differences in electrical patterns between psychopaths and normals, which is one of the things I’m working on. My ultimate goal would be to develop a device you could have on your key ring that would vibrate, or alert you in some other way, when a psychopath is within fifty feet. An early warning system.”
The article continued, this time switching gears to another topic in the study of psychopathy. She and Apgar finished the article at about the same time, and she wasn’t mentioned further.
Erin glanced at her advisor and winced before turning to the dean. “This is from years ago,” she explained. “Three years ago to be exact. It’s from an interview I did with a tiny local paper.” Her features darkened. “Can a reporter do that?” she demanded. “I mean, a reporter can’t just take a quote I gave to another paper and use it three years later like it’s a fresh one,” she finished, her voice filled with outrage.
The dean shook his head in disgust. “Well, I’m guessing a reporter can do that,” he snapped. “Since this one did.” He eyed Apgar. “Why wasn’t I told about this interview three years ago then?”
“It was harmless,” replied Apgar. “I didn’t even know about it until the paper put it online. It was small-time. Even when it was posted online it hardly got any hits. And I made it very clear to Erin that she had stepped on a land mine and never to think about saying anything like that again. Who could have known it would go national three years later?”
The dean ignored Apgar and turned his focus back on Erin. “You’ve really stepped in it this time—whether it was this weekend or three years ago. Makes no difference. As if your research wasn’t controversial enough. I had reps from the ACLU calling me all morning, and any number of news stations and papers. You do realize we survive on grants here, right? We do solid research. Not flamboyant research. Or controversial research. And we don’t showboat.”
“What did the ACLU want?” said Apgar.
“What do you think? You know, or you wouldn’t have told Erin she hit a land mine three years ago. They were outraged! And I don’t blame them. Talk about infringing on civil liberties. What Erin says she’s trying to accomplish—in the name of the University of Arizona, for Christ’s sake—is a modern-day Scarlet Letter.”
“Look, I know why it was wrong,” said Apgar. “But Erin’s heart was in the right place, even though her head was in the wrong one. And I bet most of the people who read this article would love to see a project like this succeed. Psychopaths destroy lives, even the ones who aren’t violent criminals. In a perfect world, it would be extremely useful to know who fell into this category.”
“I’m sure it would be,” said Borland. “So you could discriminate against them. Even if they were never arrested or convicted of any crime or wrongdoing. A device that would turn every citizen into their own private thought police, convicting other citizens to a lifetime of being shunned on the basis of their brain-wave patterns alone. And if this isn’t bad enough when the test is accurate, what about false positives? If even one in a hundred was a mistake—can you imagine? Wives leaving their husbands. ‘Wow, he was a loving husband and father, but my key ring vibrated—so he must be a psychopath. Who knew?’”
The dean shook his head angrily. “I’ve seen the research proposals for every student in the department. And this was never mentioned. Were you both trying to hide it from me? Is this some kind of stealth project?”
“No,” said Apgar emphatically. “Because it isn’t a project. Erin was just speculating. Three years ago, she did hope to initiate a second phase of research, geared toward wireless detection of psychopaths. But she hadn’t yet written up the proposal or discussed it with me. When I read about it online, I told her the same thing you’ve just told her; that a project like this would be fraught with controversy and unintended consequences. She understood what I was saying and agreed with me. Yes, she’s still trying to identify differences in electrical patterns between psychopaths and normals. But not for the purpose of creating a remote diagnostic. I promise you.”
“That may be so,” said the dean, “but that doesn’t change the fact that no one will believe it. You think they’re going to believe me that this misguided project—a gleam in the eye of a raw young grad student—was aborted before it started three years ago? When the goddamned Wall Street Journal has her quoted, yesterday, as saying this is a research goal of hers? A research goal, by extension, supported by the University of Arizona?”
Erin knew the vast majority of people would be thrilled to have the device she had so carelessly described. Ironically, only a short while ago her roommate had been clamoring for a way to conclusively test for psychopathy. And there was no doubt that even if mistakes were made, lives would be saved on balance. But she had come to agree with the dean. She had developed her thinking on this subject far beyond that of either the dean or her advisor, of that she was sure, and she was paying a terrible price, emotionally, for this evolution.
Apgar had, indeed, gotten her to think deeply on this subject three years earlier, and she had been doing so ever since, which had led her to a deep study of philosophy and ethics and to a seismic shift in her thinking. She had ultimately come to concede the validity of his—and now the dean’s—point of view on this subject. And it couldn’t be very fun for the dean to get outraged calls from the ACLU and others, especially since he had the responsibility of protecting the university and the department from controversy.
Erin took a deep breath. “We can demand a correction,” she said. “I’m pretty sure they can’t do what they did here.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” said Dean Borland dismissively, as though she had just fallen off the turnip truck. And in this case, maybe she was out of her league. The media had considerable power, and the last thing she needed was more controversy—or more of a spotlight on this topic.
“Ever since Jason completed his work,” continued the dean, “I’ve had to deal with conservative groups, worried that if we proved the brains of psychopaths were truly structurally aberrant, these monsters might use this information as a defense at trial. Insisting they had no control of their actions. And now I have liberal groups worried about discrimination against psychopaths, for Christ’s sake. That’s my dream, to be a punching bag for both ends of the political spectrum. Just shoot me now.”