In this gripping and haunting narrative, a renowned psychiatrist sheds new light on the psychology of the war criminals at Nuremberg
When the ashes had settled after World War II and the Allies convened an international war crimes trial in Nuremberg, a psychiatrist, Douglas Kelley, and a psychologist, Gustave Gilbert, tried to fathom the psychology of the Nazi leaders, using extensive psychiatric interviews, IQ tests, and Rorschach inkblot tests. Never before or since has there been such a detailed study of governmental leaders who orchestrated mass killings.
Before the war crimes trial began, it was self-evident to most people that the Nazi leaders were demonic maniacs. But when the interviews and psychological tests were completed, the answer was no longer so clear. The findings were so disconcerting that portions of the data were hidden away for decades and the research became a topic for vituperative disputes. Gilbert thought that the war criminals’ malice stemmed from depraved psychopathology. Kelley viewed them as morally flawed, ordinary men who were creatures of their environment. Who was right?
Drawing on his decades of experience as a psychiatrist and the dramatic advances within psychiatry, psychology, and neuroscience since Nuremberg, Joel E. Dimsdale looks anew at the findings and examines in detail four of the war criminals, Robert Ley, Hermann Göring, Julius Streicher, and Rudolf Hess. Using increasingly precise diagnostic tools, he discovers a remarkably broad spectrum of pathology. Anatomy of Malice takes us on a complex and troubling quest to make sense of the most extreme evil.
This was disappointing. It's a Yale UP book by a "distinguished professor emeritus" from UC San Diego, and its subject matter should have been fascinating. But it was surfacey and skimmed where I wanted it to dig. On the face of it, the psychological analyses done of Goering, Hess (the crazy one, not Hoess the commandant), Streicher, and Ley before the Nuremberg trials should be fascinating to read about and should provide a wealth of material to talk about things like mental illness, psychopathy, and the nature of evil. And yet it wasn't and it didn't.
For one thing, Dimsdale had material he could have used about others of their cohort and really, did Yale tell you your book could only be 200 pages long? For another, he sets up a pretty simple binary between his two researchers: Douglas Kelley, the psychiatrist, who thought the Nazis were basically ordinary men who had done evil things, and Gustave Gilbert, the psychologist, who thought--who was in fact seemingly desperate to prove--that they were inhuman monsters. (Since Kelley and Gilbert came to loathe each other with a green and crimson passion, the simplicity of the binary may be genuine.) And he goes down the list with Kelley on one side and Gilbert on the other, and he never really gets much deeper than that into the question of evil and psychology. The subtitle of the book is perhaps overly appropriate: "The Enigma of the Nazi War Criminals." Dimsdale seems to be more concerned that we understand how enigmatic they are than in solving or undoing or cracking (whatever one does with enigmas) even the tiniest piece of the material he has.
So from this book, I learned a little bit about the history of psychiatry and the evolution of the diagnoses that cluster around the word "psychopathy." I learned about the existence of these Rorschach blots and the feud between Kelley and Gilbert over them. But I didn't learn anything about these four Nazi leaders and I didn't learn anything about the nature of evil.
There is definitely room here for somebody to write a better book.
Others have provided an adequate summary of what this book covers, so I'll avoid unnecessary repetition and instead explain my low rating.
For such a complex topic, and complicated personalities, Anatomy of Malice is painfully brief. The author's central interest is not clear; is this a book about Nazi leaders, the nature of malice more generally (using Nazi leaders as exemplars), or about the common ground between psychoanalysis and neurological science? Dimsdale certainly talks about each, but I was not convinced that he covered any one of them effectively.
For instance, Dimsdale's biographies of the Nazi leaders (by this, I mean the four men he focuses on) is surprisingly brief. If they were intended to provide context for discussion of the leaders' interview statements and Rorschach responses, Dimsdale seems to have 'cherry-picked' what he thought was salient, which of course then helped to verify his own observations about their personalities.
He reaches some conclusions about malice based on the psychoanalytic observations, but then undermines his claims by suggesting that we don't know much about the Nazi's brains because progress in science has provided us with so many more routes of approach since the 1940s.
Additionally, he explores controversies and competition in publication of the Rorschach responses. Historically interesting material, yes, but I missed how this really serves as grist towards understanding the nature of malice.
Anatomy of malice is... there's no anatomy, not a discerning one. After all the Rorschachs have been shown, spoken and "scientifically" mumbled about, what remains is... nothing. And that's the scariest thing: there's Mr. Hyde in every one of us. And we don't even need to drink special concoction to show our evil colors. We just need to be at certain place at some special time. Evil has no face. It's stupifyingly sweet and overpowering to (un)lucky ones to wield it and uniform, especially given one.
Dopo aver letto La banalità del male, di Hanna Arendt, pensavo che qui avrei trovato altri elementi per approfondire la tematica, ma, ahimè, così non è stato. Avrei dovuto prestare una maggior attenzione al sottotitolo del saggio, che recita “La vera storia degli psicologi che hanno intervistato i criminali di Norimberga”, perché, in effetti, questa è soprattutto la cronaca del loro interagire e delle contrastanti conclusioni cui sono giunti. In questo senso, il testo è sicuramente interessante, ma non è ciò che cercavo.
Super fascinating dive into the Nuremberg Trials and overall study of psychology. If you're just getting into either of these topics, this book is a good place to start. It wasn't too in-depth or scientific to be confusing, but it had enough interesting information and history to keep you engaged and make sure you learned something. A great beginner's guide to aid the reader onto their own research journey to formulate their own opinions and thoughts on the topic.
I criminali nazisti sono come Frankstein, come Dracula, o come Mister Hyde? Partendo dal processo di Norimberga, l'autore allarga il discorso a cosa è il "male" dal punto di vista psichiatrico e giuridico, con riferimenti alla storia, alla religione, alla filosofia, alla cultura. Il libro resta forse un pò in superficie, ponendo domande più che fornendo risposte, ma mi ha comunque interessato molto.
Un buon saggio divulgativo sulla situazione immediatamente successiva alla fine della II Guerrra Mondiale attraverso la gestione dei gerarchi nazisti in attesa del giudizio al processo di Norimberga. E' interessante soprattuto la descrizione umana (se cosi' si puo' dire) di alcuni personaggi conosciuti per le atrocita' commesse o ordinate e il delinearsi del loro profilo psichiatrico. E' curioso infine constatare che aldila' della pubblica (e giusta) demonizzazione di questi individui, gia' allora ci fossero invece dei tecnici (psichiatri) che, non volendosi fermare all'apparenza, cercavano di studiare i casi al fine di capire e forse spiegare il male assoluto.
Książka Joela E. Dimsdale’a Psychologia zła to fascynująca i bardzo rzetelna próba spojrzenia na proces norymberski z zupełnie innej perspektywy — nie historycznej, lecz psychiatryczno-psychologicznej. Autor nie opisuje przebiegu procesu ani nie analizuje zbrodni w ich wymiarze politycznym; zamiast tego skupia się na umysłach czterech najbardziej symbolicznych oskarżonych: Göringa, Hessa, Streichera i Leya. Dzięki temu książka staje się czymś w rodzaju portretu zbiorowego, choć zbudowanego z mocno odmiennych, skrajnych indywidualności, uzupełnionego o współczesną wiedzę medyczną, której Kelley i Gilbert nie mieli prawa posiadać.
Dimsdale wraca do rywalizacji psychiatry Douglasa M. Kelleya i psychologa Gustave’a Gilberta — dwóch naukowców, których podejścia do badania nazistowskich dygnitarzy różniły się niemal wszystkim. W książce wyraźnie czuć, jak dalece te konfliktujące metody i temperamenty wpłynęły na sposób dokumentowania zachowań oskarżonych. Dimsdale nie traktuje jednak żadnego z nich jako nieomylnego autorytetu. Z dzisiejszej perspektywy weryfikuje ich testy, hipotezy, diagnozy i wnioski, pokazując, jak bardzo psychologia lat 40. była jeszcze nauką intuicyjną, pozbawioną obecnych narzędzi neuropsychiatrii.
Największą wartością książki jest jednak wnikliwe, niekiedy bardzo niepokojące studium czterech wybranych oskarżonych. Göring jawi się jako człowiek niezwykle inteligentny, pewny siebie, megalomański, ale jednocześnie obdarzony ogromną zdolnością manipulacji. Dimsdale wykorzystuje współczesne kryteria diagnostyczne, by zrozumieć, jak władza i własna osobowość ukształtowały jego drogę ku zbrodni. Rudolf Hess z kolei przedstawiony zostaje jako przypadek niemal podręcznikowy dla dzisiejszych psychiatrów — paranoik, człowiek owładnięty obsesjami i oderwany od rzeczywistości. Julius Streicher, fanatyczny antysemita, jest w analizie Dimsdale’a jedną z najmroczniejszych postaci, a Robert Ley ukazany zostaje jako przykład destrukcyjnej mieszanki zaburzeń, uzależnienia i całkowitego podporządkowania ideologii.
Zestawiając te cztery sylwetki, autor nie tyle odpowiada na pytanie „jakimi ludźmi byli naziści?”, ile na trudniejsze: dlaczego ludzie o tak różnych psychikach — od inteligentnych manipulatorów po skrajnie zaburzonych fanatyków — znaleźli wspólny mianownik w zbrodni? To jedna z najmocniejszych stron książki. Dimsdale nie ulega pokusie uproszczeń, nie tworzy jednego modelu „nazistowskiej osobowości”. Zamiast tego pokazuje, że zło może wyrastać z różnych źródeł, a struktury totalitarne potrafią wykorzystywać zarówno patologie, jak i cechy, które same w sobie nie muszą być destrukcyjne.
Narracja jest klarowna, przystępna i jednocześnie naukowo solidna. Dimsdale umiejętnie łączy wiedzę kliniczną, historię, cytaty z dokumentów i własną praktykę psychiatryczną. Dzięki temu książka nie jest ani suchą analizą, ani sensacyjnym reportażem — to raczej spokojne, ale wstrząsające studium natury ludzkiego zła. Z jednej strony pogłębia zrozumienie materiałów zgromadzonych przez Kelleya i Gilberta, z drugiej pokazuje, jak bardzo zmieniło się nasze pojmowanie zaburzeń psychicznych przez ostatnie dziesięciolecia.
Psychologia zła to lektura wymagająca, ale niezwykle cenna. Nie daje prostych odpowiedzi, nie zamyka historii nazizmu w ramy patologii, lecz przeciwnie — pokazuje, że granica między „normalnością” a destrukcyjnym fanatyzmem bywa niebezpiecznie cienka. To książka, która skłania do refleksji, drąży temat głębiej niż większość publikacji o procesie norymberskim i zostawia czytelnika z poczuciem, że zrozumienie zbrodni to zawsze przede wszystkim próba zrozumienia człowieka.
Found it to be pretty good, but would have liked it more if it was broader in it's coverage - it mainly focused on four Nuremberg defendants. It would have been good if it explored the actions and motivations of others, including some of the guys that got away, like Mengele.
It also would have been good if it extended its focus beyond individual psychological explanations for Nazi atrocities, such as looking at the systemic spread of antisemitism and fascist ideology in the aftermath of the Versailles Treaty war reparations.
Dopo “Auschwitz”, dopo “La Scomparsa di Josef Mengele”, ecco la dirittura d’arrivo: il processo di Norimberga. Ma non una cronaca, bensì il racconto della vita dei prigionieri dopo la guerra e delle interviste che subirono da parte di due psichiatri: Kelley e Gilbert. Ad essere sincera non so quale tra le due categorie mi abbia irritata di più: se Kelley e Gilbert con la loro smania di primeggiare l’uno sull’altro e il loro estenuante battibecco dopo il processo oppure l’atteggiamento dei gerarchi. Vedere due colleghi, che avrebbero dovuto lavorare fianco a fianco per carpire i segreti del male, farsi i dispetti come all’asilo sul livello di: “Tu mi hai rubato gli appunti”, “Non è vero”, “Io sono rimasto più a lungo a Norimberga”, “Ma io sono arrivato per primo”, nonchè l’imbarazzante e ridicola lotta per riuscire a pubblicare il loro resoconto delle interviste prima dell’altro. Gli studi, soprattutto quelli ottenuti con il test di Rorschach, risultano essere contradditori. Kelley afferma che i nazisti siano semplicemente: “corrotti moralmente e prodotti del loro tempo e del loro contesto”, in quanto, “anche un uomo buono in determinate circostanze può commettere le peggiori azioni”. Gilbert riassume tutto con: “sono palesemente malati, psicopatici e schizofrenici” insomma le hanno addosso tutte loro. Ma anche tra i prigionieri è un bel match: prima si incolpano a vicenda, poi si azzannano come cani nell’aia, poi ancora fingono di non ricordare la loro vita (come Hess che improvvisamente accusava vuoti di memoria) durante il regime, oppure si dichiarano direttamente innocenti, oppure ancora credono che “l’internazionale giudaica” li stia avvelenando piano piano o che congiuri per non lasciarli dormire nelle celle. Nonostante la sorveglianza, alcuni riescono a suicidarsi (come Ley il cui cervello sarà l’unico ad essere analizzato) e ad evitare così il processo. Pareva quasi che ad un certo punto fosse tutta una messa in scena per depistare gli studi e il processo. Ad essere sincera mi ha lasciata piuttosto perplessa come saggio. In primis mai mi sarei aspettata tanta avidità e morbosità da parte di professionisti. Viene da chiedersi: sapevano quale fosse il compito che erano chiamati ad adempiere? Sapevano davvero chi stavano intervistando? Sapevano di essere una fonte preziosa per riuscire a capire chi fossero i tanto temuti gerarchi del regime del Terzo Reich? In secundis la confusione che viene a crearsi tra le varie opinioni. Ad onor del vero però a mio avviso hanno ragione entrambi. Kelley perchè esalta il nazista in quanto essere umano comune, cosa importante da ricordare perchè non si attribuisca loro doti sovrumane e irraggiungibili, ma che rammentino alla gente che i prossimi potrebbero essere chiunque e i più insospettabili. Gilbert perchè in effetti certi comportamenti dei prigionieri sono talmente ripetuti, talmente bislacchi che ad un certo punto è impossibile accusarli di una messa in scena. È evidente che ci siano dei disturbi, peraltro coincidenti nei rapporti dei due psichiatri quindi almeno su quel frangente abbiamo un punto d’incontro.
Al termine della Seconda Guerra Mondiale, agli Alleati si poneva un problema di fondo: cosa ne facciamo dei prigionieri di guerra [i gerarchi nazisti]? La faccenda non era per niente semplice, americani, inglesi e russi ebbero due linee contrastanti riguardo all’agire: li fuciliamo nell’immediato? Faremmo il loro gioco, diamo loro un processo? Sì, ma dove? A Norimberga il palazzo di giustizia era l’unico edificio rimasto intatto con la prigione. I gerarchi nazisti e coloro che verranno catturati in seguito come Göring, vennero trasferiti in quella sede. A quel punto scoppia la gara: psichiatri e psicologi americani si fanno avanti chi per intervistare i prigionieri, chi per reclamare il loro cervello una volta condannati. E da qui l’allucinante richiesta al giudice da parte dei laboratori di medicina legale: “Condannateli, così poi ci invierete il loro cervello, sparate dunque al petto e non alla testa”. Parte contemporaneamente un programma di interviste per i gerarchi, finalizzato a scoprire lo status mentale, psichico e intellettivo dei prigionieri e due psichiatri si recano a Norimberga vivendo con loro e facendo loro domande su domande. Il risultato agghiaccia certo, ma era piuttosto prevedibile. Che dire: consiglio vivamente questo saggio essenzialmente per la metodologia ben spiegata e ben strutturata di come si preparò il processo, le interviste, le tecniche utilizzate per esse, le testimonianze riportate molto interessanti e il tentativo di spiegare gli studi e i suoi risultati. Non aspettatevi una risoluzione, ma leggetelo, si tratta di una parte di storia che non può e non deve essere ignorata, non per vedere due americani contendersi le luci della ribalta, ma per rendersi conto di chi fossero gli artefici della Seconda Guerra Mondiale e della dittatura Nazista. Forse una risposta non ci sarà mai (ricordiamo che all’appello mancavano elementi come Josef Mengele, Himmler, Goebbles e Hitler stesso), ma questo non significa che non ci si possa almeno provare a capire e a comprendere affinchè il processo di Norimberga resti l’unico e il solo nella Storia dell’uomo.
Livro: Anatomy of Malice “A maioria dos homens é má.” — Bias de Priene
Hoje em dia, recebemos informações o tempo todo, seja por meio das redes sociais, notícias ou até mesmo conversas informais. No entanto, nem sempre paramos para analisar esses acontecimentos com profundidade. Os livros oferecem uma oportunidade única para mergulharmos nas complexidades da história e entendermos como certos eventos moldaram o mundo em que vivemos. Ler sobre o passado recente não é apenas um exercício acadêmico; é uma ferramenta poderosa para evitar que os erros do passado se repitam.
O livro Anatomy of Malice, de Joel E. Dimsdale, explora um tema desconfortável, mas essencial: como pessoas comuns podem cometer atos terríveis? Será que os líderes nazistas eram monstros completamente diferentes de nós ou apenas indivíduos comuns que encontraram uma oportunidade em um sistema violento? O autor mergulha nessa questão ao examinar o comportamento de quatro altos comandantes nazistas julgados por crimes de guerra nos Julgamentos de Nuremberg.
Livro Anatomy of Malice na loja da Amazon — disponível para Kindle Unlimited Após a Segunda Guerra Mundial, o mundo se deparou com um dilema moral e jurídico: como responsabilizar aqueles que haviam arquitetado e executado as atrocidades do Holocausto? No Tribunal de Nuremberg, a questão central não era apenas punir os culpados, mas também entender quem eram esses homens e o que os levou a cometer tais crimes. Dimsdale utiliza esse contexto como pano de fundo para analisar as personalidades de quatro oficiais nazistas: Hermann Göring, Robert Ley, Julius Streicher e Rudolf Hess.
Cada um desses homens tinha um perfil psicológico distinto, mas todos desempenharam papéis fundamentais na estrutura nazista, refletindo diferentes formas de participação no regime. Göring, por exemplo, era um estrategista ambicioso, que usava sua posição para consolidar poder e influência. Ley, por outro lado, estava profundamente envolvido na propaganda e no controle ideológico do partido, reforçando a narrativa que justificava as atrocidades cometidas. Streicher personificava o ódio extremista e fanático, espalhando discursos inflamados que incentivavam a violência direta contra grupos marginalizados. Já Hess, embora menos envolvido na administração direta do genocídio, era um seguidor cego da ideologia nazista, demonstrando como a lealdade absoluta a um sistema pode levar à cumplicidade em crimes horrendos.
Ao analisar essas figuras, Dimsdale revela como o mal pode se manifestar de diferentes formas — desde a ambição pragmática até o fanatismo irracional. Cada um desses perfis nos alerta para os diversos caminhos que podem levar uma pessoa comum a se tornar parte de uma engrenagem destrutiva. O que Anatomy of Malice nos mostra é que esses indivíduos não eram necessariamente insanos ou psicopatas no sentido clínico, mas sim pessoas que se adaptaram a um sistema onde a violência era normalizada e incentivada.
Ao explorar suas histórias e avaliações psiquiátricas, Dimsdale nos leva a uma reflexão inquietante: seriam essas figuras tão diferentes de pessoas que conhecemos hoje? Poderia o mesmo tipo de comportamento emergir em outros contextos? O autor sugere que a resposta está menos na patologia individual e mais nas condições sociais e políticas que permitem que o mal floresça.
Essa ideia está profundamente conectada ao conceito de “banalidade do mal”, criado pela filósofa Hannah Arendt ao estudar Adolf Eichmann, um dos principais arquitetos do Holocausto. Eichmann não era um assassino cruel que se deliciava com a violência. Pelo contrário, ele era um burocrata eficiente, que via a execução de ordens como uma mera questão administrativa. Seu trabalho era garantir que a máquina do extermínio operasse com eficiência, sem que ele próprio precisasse sujar as mãos.
Arendt alertou para um perigo sutil, mas devastador: o mal nem sempre se manifesta por meio de indivíduos sádicos e perversos. Muitas vezes, ele nasce da passividade e da falta de reflexão, da aceitação cega de ordens e ideologias sem questionamento. Eichmann não via a si mesmo como um criminoso; ele acreditava estar apenas cumprindo um dever. Esse tipo de pensamento, argumenta Arendt, é o que torna o mal ainda mais perigoso — pois ele pode se disfarçar sob a aparência de normalidade e eficiência.
Dimsdale aprofunda essa reflexão ao analisar os depoimentos e perfis psicológicos de outros oficiais nazistas julgados em Nuremberg. Assim como Eichmann, muitos não se viam como pessoas cruéis ou culpados. Para eles, o que faziam era apenas uma extensão da lógica do regime ao qual serviam, onde a violência e o genocídio foram transformados em processos burocráticos eficientes. E, através dessa transformação, esses homens eliminaram qualquer necessidade de considerar o impacto humano de suas ações.
Esse é um dos pontos mais perturbadores do livro: a ideia de que o mal não precisa ser impulsionado por ódio visceral, mas pode florescer na frieza da rotina, na desumanização sistemática e na ausência de questionamento moral. Isso nos alerta para o perigo da conformidade, da normalização da injustiça e da falta de pensamento crítico.
Como a Obediência Pode Levar ao Mal?
Um dos pontos mais impactantes do livro é a ideia de que não é necessário odiar alguém para cometer injustiças contra essa pessoa. Muitas vezes, basta simplesmente seguir ordens sem questioná-las. A história nos ensina que crimes terríveis não são cometidos apenas por indivíduos perversos, mas por pessoas comuns que foram levadas a agir sem reflexão.
O livro cita alguns experimentos psicológicos que ajudam a compreender esse fenômeno. O estudo de Stanley Milgram, conhecido como “Obedience” (1961–1963), demonstrou que a maioria das pessoas está disposta a infligir dor a outra pessoa quando uma figura de autoridade ordena, mesmo que isso vá contra sua moral. Esse experimento revelou como a obediência cega pode levar indivíduos comuns a cometerem atos cruéis sem necessariamente possuírem más intenções.
Outro experimento citado é o de John Darley e Bibb Latané, chamado “Bystander Apathy” (1968). Ele demonstrou que, em situações de emergência, a tendência das pessoas é não agir caso percebam que outros também estão inertes. Esse estudo evidencia como a responsabilidade individual pode ser diluída em um grupo, levando à inação diante de injustiças e violências.
O terceiro experimento abordado é o “Experimento da Prisão de Stanford” (1971), conduzido por Philip Zimbardo. Ele revelou como indivíduos comuns podem se tornar cruéis e abusivos quando colocados em posições de poder. Em poucos dias, estudantes que interpretavam guardas de prisão passaram a tratar outros estudantes como prisioneiros de verdade, usando violência psicológica e física para afirmar sua autoridade. Esse estudo destacou como o contexto e o papel social podem transformar completamente o comportamento humano, mostrando como a autoridade e a estrutura de poder podem corromper indivíduos que, em circunstâncias normais, não apresentariam tais comportamentos.
O que esses experimentos mostram é que o mal pode ser facilitado por sistemas e contextos sociais que incentivam a desumanização do outro. Isso significa que, sob certas condições, qualquer um pode ser levado a participar de ações que normalmente consideraria impensáveis.
A conexão entre esses experimentos e os eventos analisados no livro é clara: regimes totalitários e sistemas autoritários exploram essas mesmas dinâmicas psicológicas para transformar pessoas comuns em agentes do mal. A obediência cega, a apatia diante da injustiça e a influência do papel social são mecanismos essenciais para que atrocidades possam ser cometidas em grande escala.
Ao estudar esses padrões, Anatomy of Malice nos alerta para a necessidade de reflexão crítica e resistência ativa diante de estruturas de poder que incentivam a desumanização.
Afinal: Os Nazistas Eram Pessoas Normais?
Nem todos os líderes nazistas estudados eram burocratas frios e calculistas. Alguns, como Julius Streicher, se destacavam pelo fanatismo extremo e pela violência aberta. Streicher não apenas promovia o antissemitismo de maneira implacável, mas demonstrava um prazer evidente em sua retórica cruel. Seu discurso não era motivado apenas por ambição ou desejo de poder; ele acreditava profundamente na ideologia de ódio e incentivava ativamente a perseguição e o extermínio dos judeus. Sua obsessão violenta e comportamento agressivo faziam dele um exemplo da brutalidade descontrolada que pode emergir quando um sistema autoritário valida e amplifica esse tipo de comportamento.
Por outro lado, a maioria dos nazistas analisados nos Julgamentos de Nuremberg não se encaixava nesse perfil de crueldade explícita. Eles eram pessoas comuns, muitas vezes bem-educadas, que apenas seguiam um sistema cruel. Muitos não demonstravam traços de sadismo, mas sim uma assustadora indiferença ao sofrimento alheio. Para esses indivíduos, os crimes cometidos eram vistos como “parte do trabalho”, um reflexo da cultura burocrática que reduzia vidas humanas a números e processos administrativos. Essa diferença entre os fanáticos ideológicos e os oportunistas pragmáticos é uma das questões mais perturbadoras levantadas pelo livro: até que ponto a conformidade e a busca por status podem levar pessoas comuns a se tornarem cúmplices do mal?
Nos Julgamentos de Nuremberg, o psiquiatra Douglas Kelley e o psicólogo Gustave Gilbert analisaram criminosos de guerra nazistas. O que descobriram foi inquietante: esses homens não eram monstros, mas sim burocratas eficientes e oportunistas, que viam suas ações como “apenas trabalho”.
Os principais traços desses líderes eram:
✔ Ambição e desejo de subir na hierarquia a qualquer custo. ✔ Falta de empatia e preocupação apenas com resultados. ✔ Aceitação da ideologia nazista sem questionar. ✔ Justificativas pragmáticas para atos terríveis, considerando-os “necessários”.
Muitos desses indivíduos não sentiam prazer em matar, mas viam o genocídio como uma tarefa a ser realizada para cumprir um objetivo político. Isso nos leva a uma questão inquietante: o quão fácil é para um sistema transformar pessoas comuns em executores da violência?
Isso Pode Acontecer de Novo?
Ao longo da história, a humanidade enfrentou momentos em que a moralidade foi corroída gradualmente, tornando o impensável aceitável. Os padrões identificados em Anatomy of Malice demonstram como sistemas políticos e sociais podem transformar indivíduos comuns em cúmplices da violência e da opressão.
A grande questão que Anatomy of Malice levanta é: será que aprendemos o suficiente para evitar que isso se repita? A história nos mostra que regimes autoritários não começam de repente. Eles são construídos aos poucos, através de pequenas mudanças no comportamento da sociedade, da imprensa e das instituições políticas.
Se você acredita que Anatomy of Malice é apenas um livro de história, talvez seja hora de se perguntar: Isso é realmente passado, ou já está acontecendo ao nosso redor?
Interesting but pretty chaotic and not streamlined. There were times that I was wondering what it is actually about. Criminals? Psychiatrists? Author's opinion?
This book was inspired by author Joel E. Dimsdale’s interest in understanding what made the Nazis evil. The question is undoubtedly more a philosophical than technical question, but the technical tools of psychology might provide some insight. In this case, the insight would seem to be slight, albeit the story is very interesting and informative.
Dimsdale examines the backgrounds and psychological history of four Nazis in particular, namely Robert Ley, Herman Goring, Julius Streicher and Rudolf Hess. However, before getting to those details, Dimsdale describes the history of the Nuremberg trial and the appointment and conflict between the psychiatrist appointed to examine the Nazi defendants. The conflict between these psychiatrists – Douglas Kelly and Gustave Gilbert – takes up a large part of the narrative. We are also introduced to Burton C. Andrus, the warden of the Nuremberg facility. Dimsdale makes these characters and their quirks engaging. We also get background on the cutting edge psychological tool of the Rorschach test, which frankly comes across as “mumbo jumbo.”
The debate about the Nazi war criminals was whether they were uniquely depraved in a way that psychology could identify as outside the norms of human nature – a position advanced by Gilbert – or if they were simply human beings, but perhaps more depraved than the norm – Kelly’s position. It is not clear that there is an answer, but my sense is that Dimsdale inclines toward Kelly’s position. The Nuremberg defendants selected by Dimsdale were odd, but were they odder than most people who had been defeated in war, were being held by their enemies and faced a death sentence? At some point, Rudolf Hess slipped the bonds of sanity, certainly by the time that he flew to Scotland, but much of his performance was either a habit formed to avoid interrogation or an act. Julius Streicher was an unpleasant person, who probably talked himself into his death sentence. (In my review of [[ASIN:0815411561 Julius Streicher: Nazi Editor of the Notorious Anti-semitic Newspaper Der Sturmer]] I wondered what Streicher had done to merit a death sentence, inasmuch as he was out of power by the time of World War II, and the answer seems to be that he was a jerk during the Nuremberg trial.) Robert Ley was an alcoholic and had a neurologically induced stutter who committed suicide before the trial. Finally, Goring was the most effective of the Nazis but was also addicted to pills and had the greatest claim to being a true psychopath.
Dimsdale seems to imply that the traits that these men exhibited could be found in most people. The difference, of course, is that these people were in a position where their lack of internal restraints, and indifference to transcendental concerns, allowed them to permit or assist in heinous acts.
For me, what characterized the cadre of Nuremberg defendants was that they were opportunists. They were most willing to adopt those moral values that would enable them to achieve the success they wanted. Nazism was particularly well-adapted to such people since it had at its core the “Fuhrer Principle” which held simply that a follower had to follow the Fuhrer wherever he led.
Dimsdale acknowledges that his quest was inconclusive in his conclusion:
“I was of course disappointed, but then I started to reflect. Would any archives have answered my questions about malice? The Bible says pointedly “The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty” (Ps. 74: 80). The poet Pablo Neruda concludes more hopefully: “The earth is a bed / blooming for love, soiled in blood.” 8 Kelley found some darkness in every person. Gilbert found a unique darkness in some. They were both right.”
Nonetheless, don’t let that prevent you from reading this book. It provides a glimpse into the lives of the Nazi high command, some thoughts on the development of psychology, a sketch of international justice, and some philosophy on the dark issue of human evil. The book is well-written and easily accessible to those with an interest in any of these subjects.
A good modern look at the psychological data and observations taken of 5 Nazi leaders while they were on trial for war crimes after World War II. For anyone who has read Gilbert and Kelley's books on their work with the prisoners, there isn't much new data. But to examine it with the tools of modern-day psychiatry, or rather, the knowledge of modern-day psychiatry, is extremely interesting. The author doesn't draw any hard conclusions, which is good as he is dealing with historical data rather than data gathered first-hand, but his observations from a modern viewpoint are insightful and interesting. I would definitely read this book again, and I recommend it to anyone interested in learning what the internal lives of these prominent Nazis might have been like.
"A Fascinating Study" This was a fascinating journey into the minds of some the most despicable people the world has known. A look into their brains however, raises more questions than answers.
The only problem I had with this book is the absence of the question of sin. Psychopathology will never be able to explain it away. At some point all of these people acted against their consciences and continued to act that way for their own benefit.
In the latter chapters, the author delves into a modern diagnosis of each of these men given the psychological data collected at the trials. There is nothing to explain why the millions of people who have the same diagnoses have not committed the same offenses
No, the Nazi leadership was not clinically insane, they were EVIL, a concept that is now out of favor in our PC culture. The Nazis, Germans and most of Europe hated the Jews because that is all they knew, That was a much a default position as needing to eat or breathe.
Good info on the Nuremberg trials and of four high-ranking Nazis.
3-½ stars. At first I thought this book would answer a lot of my questions about why people perform evil deeds (in this title, are capable of malice.) But at the end, I'm not sure it did. The four Nazi leaders it tries to dissect are not in the end understood; we learn nothing about their pasts, though their behavior is diagnosed with the usual medical names, psychopathic, narcissistic, etc.
Two things were illuminating: the fact a change in the composition of the brain can lead to different behavior by the same individual. I also thought the reason the book posited, or reported on, why numerous people follow leaders even when they are evil (various experiments were conducted to shed light on this question) was potentially informative. (Because people are fearful of breaking from the pack.) But the central question of why these four Nazi leaders behaved the way they did was in my opinion left murky.
The premise of the book is fascinating, and when I explain the idea of this book to others they find it intriguing and want to read the book. However, I found the way Dimsdale presented the information and the focus he used to paint the information dryly and included a lot of irrelevant information.
Expected a somewhat deeper and wider ranging analysis. Considering that Yale was the publisher, found it a bit too middlebrow. Nonetheless, a fair enough intro to the topic; will be good to follow it with the book by one of the main protagonists, G. M. Gilbert's Nuremberg Diary, more of a main dish to which this one was like a somewhat bland appetizer. Found myself skimming most of it, pretty bland, indeed, lowbrow rather than middlebrow.
Spodziewałam się po tej książce więcej psychologii, psychiatrii i badań a mniej konfliktów między psychiatrami, tłumaczami, sędziami i adwokatami. Czułam niedosyt, mimo że merytorycznie jest bardzo ciekawa.
This was an excellent opportunity to state the insufficiency of science in ‘situations’ like this, extrapolating to more normal situations posing the question of irrationality of behaviour in general. It did not happen, what confirms the power of illusion.
4 stars because I learned a few new info, specifically, the effect of increase in oxytocin to a brain lacking a considerable amount of it. Interesting stuff.
While discussing an interesting matter, the insights are fairly simple. If you’ve read other books on this matter I believe that you won’t learn a lot from it.
Fascinating topic, poor presentation. The author is egotistical, rambling, poorly edited, and repetitive. He's also largely incoherent. There are better books out there on this topic.
I found the background to the approach of the Nuremberg trials insightful. I appreciated the analysis presented of the four Nazi war criminals' psyches and learning about the different causes of malice. I had no idea how much of that analysis is a result of Rorschach Tests of the inmates. I was expecting a more objective scientific discussion of human behavior. The question the book poses and endeavors to answer is about the nature of malice and what or where it comes from. The answer, like most things in life, is that it is complicated.
Anatomy of Malice is a summary of some psychological perspectives on Nazi perpetrators. Much of the book is spent discussing the doomed partnership between two psychologists who worked with defendants of the Nuremberg Trials. Douglass Kelley believed these Nazi perpetrators were not monsters but men shaped by their environment. Gustav Gilbert believed they were psychopathic monsters. The book focuses on four criminals: Robert Ley, Hermann Göring, Julius Streicher, and Rudolf Hess, but instead of looking at their deeds under the Nazis, it mostly details their time in prison and the psychological evaluations of Kelley and Gilbert.
I didn't like Anatomy of Malice at all. First of all, the author has no argument of his own. He just summarizes certain arguments put forth by others about the psychology of Nazis. That has been done, and done better, in many other books. Anatomy of Malice covers a variety of topics - psychological experiments about perpetrators and bystanders, research into psychopaths, "bad brain" theories - in a rambling and highly simplified manner. Often, these discussions seem barely relevant to the book’s purported premise. For example, the author specifically notes at the beginning that he feels high level perpetrators like those he covers are understudied in the literature. But he spends a great deal of time (in a short book) discussing the impulsive tendencies of psychopaths. First, it is unclear if Dimsdale believes some or all of his main subjects were actually psychopaths. Second, he never addresses what I see as a major flaw: does it really make sense to discuss impulsivity in the context of desk murderers? The Holocaust and other crimes committed by the Nazis were not impulsive at all. At the highest levels they were the result of much deliberation and planning.
And for a book that promises the “anatomy of malice,” we never get a good idea of what Dimsdale means by “malice.” He downplays Antisemitism as a motive for some of his subjects, so where does the malice come in? Is it supposed to be a synonym for “evil?”
A key question might be: who is this book for? Clearly it is meant for someone with no background in psychology or medicine, given that well-known experiments are summarized. But then why doesn’t Dimsdale explain some of the medical terminology he uses?
The book ends when Dimsdale notes that Kelley and Gilbert went to Nuremberg looking for different things and “they were both right.” What?!
Hannah Arendt, a witness to the trial of Adolph Eichmann in Jerusalem in 1961, discussed what she called "the banality of evil," i.e., the actions of Adolph Eichmann, a bureaucrat presiding over various aspects of the vast machinery responsible for 11 million deaths of Jews, Slavs, Gypsies, Christians during Hitler's Third Reich, whom she described as little more than a small cog in that gigantic machine. But she mentioned nothing about his vitriolic hatred of Jews, and didn't bring a professional psychiatrist's or clinical psychologist's expertise in her analysis of Eichmann or evil in general. Nor did she really bring out the true horror of what the Nazis did to their victims, including honest German citizens who themselves were horrified at what their government was doing, and said so.
In actuality, evil always has a core of the truly alien for those of us who have not embraced it. As author Joel Dimsdale himself says in Anatomy of Malice: The Enigma of the Nazi War Criminals, the analysis of the German war criminals at Nuremberg by psychologists and psychiatrists at the time if the Nuremberg trials was highly controversial and, ultimately, unsatisfying. What could have made so many people commit such devastating crimes against humanity in the thankfully short, 12-year term of Das Tausend-Jahre Reich? To date, that questions still has not been satisfactorily answered, and may never be. Evil has always been with us, wily as the metaphorical fox, and will be until we are no longer human or have become extinct.
A brilliant analysis of that seminal moment in modern history by psychiatrist Joel Dimsdale, this book is must reading for anyone interested in learning why modern history has gone as it has, and wants to understand something of the reality and presence in evil in human affairs.