definition. A really "sentimental" person, in the sense used, is one who
has sympathy. This, in turn, comes from imagination which is probably
the result of a sensitive nervous system, one that quickly and easily
responds to stimuli. Those who have weak emotions do not respond so
readily to impressions. Their assumption of superior wisdom has its
basis only in a nervous system which is sluggish and phlegmatic to
stimuli. Such impressions as each system makes are registered on the
brain and become the material for recollection and comparison, which go
to form opinion. The correctness of the mental processes depends upon
the correctness of the senses that receive the impression, the nerves
that transmit the correctness of the registration, and the character of
the brain. It does not follow that the stoic has a better brain than the
despised "sentimentalist." Either one of them may have a good one, and
either one of them a poor one. Still, charity and kindliness probably
come from the sensitive system which imagines itself in the place of
the object that it pities. All pity is really pain engendered by the
feelings that translate one into the place of another. Both hate and
love are biologically necessary to life and its processes.
Many people urge that the penalty of imprisonment for life would be all
right if the culprit could be kept in prison during life, but in the
course of time he is pardoned. This to me is an excellent reason why his
life should be saved. It is proof that the feeling of hatred that
inspired judge and jury has spent itself and that they can look at the
murderer as a man. Which decision is the more righteous, the one where
hatred and fear affect the judgment and sentence, or the one where these
emotions have spent their force?
Everyone who advocates capital punishment is really ashamed of the
practice for which he is responsible. Instead of urging public
executions, the most advanced and sensitive who believe in killing by
the state are now advocating that even the newspapers should not publish
the details and that the killing should be done in darkness and silence.
In that event no one would be deterred by the cruelty of the state. That
capital punishment is horrible and cruel is the reason for its
existence. That men should be taught not to take life is the purpose of
judicial killings. But the spectacle of the state taking life must tend
to cheapen it. This must be evident to all who believe in suggestion.
Constant association and familiarity tend to lessen the shock of any
act however revolting. If men regarded the murderer as one who acted
from some all-sufficient cause and who was simply an instrument in an
endless sequence of cause and effect, would anyone say he should be put
to death?
It is not easy to estimate values correctly. It may be that life is not
important. Nature seems extravagantly profligate in her giving and
pitiless in her taking away. Yet death has something of the same shock
today that was felt when men first gazed upon the dead with awe and
wonder and terror. Constantly meeting it and seeing it and procuring it
will doubtless make it more commonplace. To the seasoned soldier in the
army it means less than it did before he became a soldier. Probably the
undertaker thinks less of death than almost any other man. He is so
accustomed to it that his mind must involuntarily turn from its horror
to a contemplation of how much he makes out of the burial. If the
civilized savages have their way and make hangings common, we shall
probably recover from some of our instinctive fear of death and the
extravagant value that we place on life. The social organism is like the
individual organism: it can be so often shocked that it grows accustomed
and weary and no longer manifests resistance or surprise.
So far as we can reason on questions of life and death and the effect
of stimuli upon human organisms, the circle is like this: Frequent
executions dull the sensibilities toward the taking of life. This makes
it easier for men to kill and increases murders, which in turn increase
hangings, which in turn increase murders, and so on, around the vicious
circle.
In the absence of any solid starting point on which an argument can be
based; in the absence of any reliable figures; in the absence of any way
to interpret the figures; in the absence of any way to ascertain the
indirect results of judicial killings, even if the direct ones could be
shown; in the impossibility through life, experience or philosophy of
fixing relative values, the question must remain where it has always
been, a conflict between the emotional and unemotional; the
"sentimental" and the stolid; the imaginative and the unimaginative; the
sympathetic and the unsympathetic. Personally, being inclined to a
purely mechanistic view of life and to the belief that all conduct is
the result of certain stimuli upon a human machine, I can only say that
the stimuli of seeing and reading of capital punishment, applied to my
machine, is revolting and horrible. Perhaps as the world improves, the
sympathetic and imaginative nature will survive the stolid and selfish.
At least one can well believe that this is the line of progress if there
shall be progress, a matter still open to question and doubt.
XXIV
STIGMATA OF THE CRIMINAL
Lombroso and others have emphasized the theory that the criminal is a
distinct physical type. This doctrine has been so positively asserted
and with such a show of statistics and authority, that it has many
advocates. More recent investigations seem to show conclusively that
there is little or no foundation for the idea that the criminal is a
separate type. Men accustomed to criminal courts and prisons cannot
avoid being impressed with the marks of inferiority that are apparent in
prisoners. Most prisoners are wretched and poorly nourished, wear poor
clothes and are uncared-for and unkempt. Their stunted appearance is
doubtless due largely to poor food, the irregularity of nourishment, and
the sordidness of their lives in general. One also imagines that a
prisoner looks the part, and in his clothes and surroundings he
generally does. It is hard for a prisoner to look well-groomed; he has
neither the opportunity nor the ambition to give much attention to his
personal appearance. The looks of the prisoners are of little value.
Nothing but actual measurements could give real information, and these
do not sustain the theory of their being different from other men.
It is not possible to see how the criminal can be of a distinct physical
type. Criminality exists only in reference to an environment. One cannot
be born a criminal. One may be, and often is, born with such an
imperfect equipment that he cannot make his adjustments to life, and
soon falls a victim to crime and disease. All that a physical
examination could do would be to show the strength or weakness of the
body and its various organs. What may befall him will depend partly on
the kind and quality of his mind and nervous system, and partly on the
physical structure and the kind of experiences that life holds in store
for him.
No doubt thorough psychological examinations would reveal something of
the brain, just as physical examinations certainly would determine the
strength and capacity of the body. This would be of material aid in
determining the kind of environment that should be found for the
individual, and if such environment could be easily found it would avert
most of the calamities which beset the path of the youth.
Something can be told of a person's character from his eyes, the
expression of the face and the contour of the head, but this information
is very misleading as our everyday experience shows. It is not
necessary to find stigmata in the prisoner to know that he was born the
way he is. One's character must be fixed before birth whether Nature
marks it on one's head or not. Likewise every particle of matter moves
from stimuli and obedience to law, regardless of whether it shows in the
face or not. The strong are no more exempt from the law than the weak.
All the difference is that they can longer and more easily avoid
disaster.
Everyone is in the habit of forming a hasty opinion of another by
reading his face and noting his expression. But the indication given by
facial expression is mainly the product of the life that has been lived,
and tells something of the part that the hidden emotions have played on
the body.
It has been generally believed that mind has its seat in the brain and
the nervous system. Later investigations, however, seem to show that it
is the product of the whole physical organism. There is no chance to
measure or weigh or still less assay the qualities of the machine. It is
certain that the quality of the mind depends very little upon either the
contour or size of the skull.
About all that can be learned of the mind and the character of the man
must be gathered from the manifestation of the machine. It is shown by
his behavior in action and reaction. This behavior is caused by the
capture, storage and release of energy through the ductless glands.
A defective mechanism either inherited or acquired through imperfectly
balanced glands will inevitably produce an imperfect mind and defective
conduct. This it will be bound to do because the body is the mind.
As a matter of fact, no man is branded physically with the "mark of
Cain." If criminology were so simple it would not be difficult to
handle. The manifestations of the human machine are infinite and only
patience and careful study can find the points of weakness and of
strength. That all brains and bodies have both is beyond dispute. No
physical human structure was ever put together where the organs were
equally strong to do the work assigned to them. Some part of the body
always needs watchfulness and repair and can never be depended upon in
emergencies. In times of overstress and strain, the defective organ or
organs will manifest their weakness. The intricate nervous system and
the brain, the unseen instincts and emotions likewise do not work
perfectly; but as a rule the ones that underwork or overwork cannot be
seen by a physical examination. It generally requires great subtlety to
find them, and careful treatment and environment to make the machine
work fairly well in spite of these imperfections. This could be
provided; in most cases the machine could be placed in an environment
where it would work fairly well; but instead of this all the effort
that is made to keep the machine in shape is a threat of the jail if it
goes wrong; it is then left to run itself without help or assistance of
any kind.
While examinations of the head do not show marked differences between
prisoners and others, a great distinction is seen between the general
proportion and the degrees of nourishment of prisoners and those not
accused of crime. Nothing is more common than the weak and underfed
condition of the delinquent and the criminal. This needs no expert
examination. It is obvious to all. The poor, scanty clothes and personal
belongings corroborate the fact that the accused is poor and has not
enough to eat or wear, nor anything but the most scanty shelter. In
addition to these facts, he is almost always ill. A report recently
published, based on investigations by a special committee of the New
York State Commission of Prisons, shows that in the New York Reformatory
only eight per cent passed the required physical examination. In the
penitentiary, where the average age was higher, only five per cent
passed the test. In the work house--the home of the "down and
outs"--only one per cent passed. The health tests employed were those
for admission to the army. It was likewise found by the same commission
that of those in good health or fair physical condition, eighty-five per
cent were self-supporting, while only eighteen per cent of those in
poor physical condition took care of themselves.
Disease and ill health, when found so generally, are in themselves
indications of a defective system, and such machines are constantly
exposed to temptation. Their needs are ever present and their poverty
great. Sickness and disease weaken or destroy such inhibitions as the
unfortunate are able to build up, and they readily yield to crime.
XXV
THE GOOD IN CRIMINALS
The criminal is confronted in court with an indictment charging him with
a violation of the law. He is a human being, like all others, neither
perfect nor entirely worthless. He has some tendencies and inclinations
which the world calls good for lack of a better term, and some that it
calls bad for the same reason. In this he is like the jury and the
judge. The strength of the different tendencies is not the same in any
two machines. The judge and jury are interested in determining whether
he is good or bad; that is, better or worse than they themselves. In
theory he is tried on the charges contained in the indictment.
In most cases by a constant stretching of the rules of evidence his
whole life may be involved. That is, proof may be offered of any act of
delinquency that constituted a violation of the law, if in any way
similar, or in any way connected with the one charged in the indictment.
He cannot meet these charges by proving the acts of kindness and charity
and real worth that are rarely absent in any life. The proceedings show
how bad he is, not how good. He may be able to call witnesses to show
that up to the time of the bringing of the indictment his reputation for
honesty was good; but he cannot show that he supported his grandmother,
or helped his aunt, or educated his younger brother, or gave his money
to the poor. All the good is irrelevant to the issue. This does not
prove that he did not commit the act. It might clearly prove whether on
the whole he should go to jail. Through this process he feels that the
law and proceedings are unfair and that he is condemned, when, in fact,
he is as good as those who judge him. Neither can he show the
circumstances that hedged in his way nor the equipment with which he
entered life. Under the legal theory that he is "the captain of his
soul," these are not material to the issue. Neither can he show the
direct motive that caused the conduct. It may have been a motive that
was ideal, but the question involved is, did he violate the law?
He is convicted and sent to prison. As a rule, he will some time be
turned back into the world. He needs careful treatment, involving
instruction and an appeal to that part of his nature which may awaken
sympathies and produce emotions that will make him more of a social
being on his return to the world. In the loose language of the world, it
is necessary for him not only to learn how to curb the evil but how to
increase the good. His imagination should be cultivated and enlarged.
The responses to better sentiment should be strengthened. This can be
furthered only by skilled teachers who are moved by the desire to help
him. The process should be similar to a hospital treatment. Instead of
this, he is usually surrounded by men of little intelligence or
education, men who have no fitness for the task; he is governed by
strict rules, all of them subjecting him to severe penalties when
violated. Every action in the prison reminds him of his status. With the
exception of a few strong men who need suffering for their development
it can have but one result. He must come out from prison poorer material
than when he went in. There are only two reflections that can keep him
out of trouble in the future: the remembrance of the past and the fear
that a similar experience might come to him again.
When it is remembered that the greatest enemy to happiness and life is
fear; when we realize that the constant battle of the primitive man was
with the fear that peoples the unknown with enemies and dangers; when we
remember that in some way, fear of poverty, of disease, of disaster, of
loss of friends and life is the ever-present enemy of us all, it is
evident that nothing but harm can come from the lessons of fear that are
drilled into the victim in prison. Life furnishes countless ways to be
kind and helpful and social. It furnishes infinite ways to be cruel,
hard and anti-social. Most of these anti-social ways are not condemned
by the law. Whether the life is helpful and kindly or hard and selfish
can never depend upon the response of an organism to fear, but upon the
response of an organism to the kindlier and more humane and sympathetic
sentiments that to some extent at least inhere in the constitution of
man.
It is a common thing for prisoners, even during the longest term, to be
more solicitous about mother, child, wife, brother or friend than about
themselves. It is common for them to deny themselves privileges,
presents or favors to help other inmates. The consideration and kindness
shown by unfortunates to each other are surprising to those who have no
experience with this class of men. Often to find real sympathy you must
go to those who know what misery means. Pride and coldness are usually
due to lack of understanding, and life alone can bring understanding.
Every intelligent man engaged in efforts to improve and help either
criminals or children or any others, knows the need of an appeal to what
passes as the better nature. Help does not come so much from directly
inhibiting the bad as by extending the area of the higher emotions. To
pull up weeds in a garden without planting something in their place is a
foolish task. The human being is like the garden. Something must grow in
the soil. If weeds are pulled up and nothing planted Nature will grow
more weeds. Some feelings and emotions always possess every person. The
best that is incident to the machine should be found and this be
cultivated and extended until it dominates the man. Courts and prisons
have no machinery to cultivate the best in their victims; they are
always looking for the worst, aiding and promoting it until the prisoner
is driven to hopelessness and despair.
XXVI
THE DEFECTIVE AND INSANE
It is almost hopeless to bring any system or order out of the chaos that
prevails in the discussion of the insane, the defective, the moron, and
the feeble-minded. The world has so long believed that man is a
specially created animal and that he does wrong from free choice, that
much more time and investigation are necessary before sane and
scientific theories can be formulated on this subject.
It has been a great many years since any semi-intelligent man believed
that all sorts of physical abnormalities were due to one cause and could
be cured by one method, and yet the prevailing opinion now, even among
the fairly educated, is that all sorts of abnormal conduct are due to
one cause, perversity and wickedness, and should be treated with only
one prescription, punishment. Scientific men indeed have long known that
there were causes for the abnormality of conduct and that there were
various more or less satisfactory remedies for many cases. Still the
time that scientists have worked on the problem is short and the data
imperfect, and many years of patient study will be needed before there
can be worked out the broad theories of responsibility for and treatment
of crime which will replace the long accepted doctrines of original sin,
and the expulsion of devils from the wicked by cruelty and punishment.
By far the largest part of the population of prisons is made up of the
insane, feeble-minded, morons, defectives or victims of diseases that
seriously influence conduct. This is especially shown by the increased
percentage of the clearly defective that are repeaters, over those in
prison for their first offense. There is no lack of statistics as to the
various groups of defectives, but these figures cannot be reconciled. No
two authorities agree as to percentages; the classifications are more or
less uncertain; the dividing lines between the different groups are
vague, one class easily fading into another. The investigations have
largely been made by those not trained for the work, and above all the
conclusions as to treatment are at variance, doubtful and necessarily
not yet satisfactory. That the clearly insane and the plainly
feeble-minded should not be punished would doubtless be admitted by all
who speak in public or write for others to read. Many persons speaking
in private, acting on juries and connected with the machinery of
"justice" say that these should be punished like the rest. Still for a
starting point, it may be assumed that most men would agree that these
classes should be restrained rather than punished.
The chief difficulty is that between the most violently insane and the
least emotional man are infinite numbers of gradations blending so
closely that no one can mathematically or scientifically classify all
the various individual units. While there are cases of insanity that can
be clearly traced to injury or disease, the degree of sanity in most
cases is still impossible to determine. Most insane people are sane on
some things, generally on most things and are sane a part or most of the
time. The periods of sanity and insanity can be distinguished only by
conduct. How far any specific insanity may impair the brain and affect
the inhibitions, is impossible to foretell.
When it comes to the defective, the problem is still more difficult. No
two persons have the same degree of intelligence. Some are clearly
lacking in mentality. Others are manifestly intelligent. The great mass
range all along between these extremes. Various arbitrary rules have
been laid down to aid in classifying different grades of defectives.
Generally the feeble-minded can be sorted out. The defectives are
supposed, if young, to be two years or more below the normal scholar in
development; if older, three or more below. Their standing is fixed by
asking certain test questions. Furthermore, a list of questions has
been commonly used for an "intelligence test." These queries have
nothing to do with the school work of the child, but are supposed to
reveal only his native intelligence.
No doubt in a broad way such tests throw considerable light on the
mentality of those who submit to the examination. Ordinary experience,
however, shows that they cannot be fully relied on. Some children
develop very slowly, others very rapidly. Some are much quicker, others
slower in their perceptions and responses. No two children or grown-ups
have the same turn of mind. One may be very bright in business affairs
and very dull in books. One may be clever in arithmetic and hopeless in
grammar. One may have marked mechanical ability and no taste for school.
These tests are only valuable if given by well qualified examiners, and
the method is so new that few have had the chance to thoroughly prepare
for the work. For the most part the tests are given by people who are
wholly unfit for so important a task.
Quite aside from all this it is not certain that intelligent people are
necessarily safer to the community than stupid ones. There is always a
tendency for the stupid to stick to the beaten path. Intelligence
generally means individuality and divergence. On the other hand, the
stupid and subnormal are moved much more directly by instincts and
emotions. Their lack of imagination, poor perceptions and want of
reasoning or comparing power, make their self-control weak. In sudden
stress or an unusual situation, they are easily swept away and respond
directly to instinct and feeling. In short the urge of the primitive
through the long history of the race cannot be modified sufficiently by
the new structure that civilization has built around more intelligent
people.
The various distinctions between the feeble-minded and the normal must
not be taken with too much confidence. As the motives that govern man
are understood, it is easy to see that intelligence is a strong factor
in regulating behavior. When it is seen also that at least the larger
part of the inmates of prisons are subnormal and at the same time
without property or education, it is evident that all these handicaps
are dominating causes of conduct. This position is made still more
certain by the further evidence that nearly all of the repeaters in
prison are of this type.
Most states already make some allowances in their criminal codes for the
defective and the insane. This is really an acknowledgment that the
activity of the human machine is governed by its make and environment.
The history of the treatment of the insane serves to show the
uncertainty of all man's theories as to punishment and responsibility.
Doubtless at a very early age in the history of man it was discovered
that there were people who acted so abnormally that they could not be
classified with the great mass. Such persons were supposed to be
possessed of devils or demons, and various incantations and practices
were used to drive the devils out. Failing in this they were put in
prison, loaded with chains or put to death because of their danger to
the community.
In other communities, however, insane persons were thought to be
possessed of special gifts. God had come nearer to them than to common
mortals, and they were seers or prophets endowed with a portion of the
divine power.