A PSYCHOBIOGRAPHICAL STUDY OF THEODORE ROBERT BUNDY:
AN OBJECT RELATIONS APPROACH
MELISSA LANDSBERG
2019
A PSYCHOBIOGRAPHICAL STUDY OF THEODORE ROBERT BUNDY:
AN OBJECT RELATIONS APPROACH
Melissa Landsberg
Submitted in fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
MAGISTER ARTIUM IN PSYCHOLOGY (RESEARCH)
in the
Faculty of Health Sciences
at the
Nelson Mandela University
April 2019
Supervisor: Professor J.G. Howcroft
Co-supervisor: Doctor A. Sandison i
DECLARATION
Name: Melissa Landsberg
Student number: 212241656
Qualification: Magister Artium in Psychology (Research)
I hereby declare that the dissertation A Psychobiographical Study of Theodore Robert Bundy:
An Object Relations Approach for the degree Magister Artium in Psychology (Research) is my own work and that it has not previously been submitted for assessment or completion of any postgraduate qualification to another University or for another qualification.
14 March 2019 ______SIGNATURE DATE
(Melissa Landsberg)
In accordance with Rule G5.6.3
5.6.3 A treatise/dissertation/thesis must be accompanied by a written declaration on the part of the candidate to the effect that it is his/her own work and that it has not previously been submitted for assessment to another University or for another qualification. However, material from publications by the candidate may be embodied in a treatise/dissertation/thesis. ii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
“Praise the bridge that carried you over” (Colman, 2011, p. 4).
I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to the following people without whom the completion of this degree would not be possible:
- My Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who timelessly restored my faith, and delivered me with
hope when I felt despondent.
- My parents, Annette and Reinhardt, who provided me with much needed patience and
resources, so that I could follow my dreams.
- My sister, Natasha, who continuously reminded me that there is life beyond research. Thank
you for all the humour and reassurance you brought to my life on a daily basis.
- My significant other, Roánd. Thank you for showering me with more love than I could ever
ask for, and for being a soundboard when my frustration got the best of me. Your
unconditional support means the world to me.
- The dogs in my life, Flappie, Phoebe, Zoey, Coco, Diesel, Pogba, and Jayzee. Without your
daily companionship and comical antics, my life would be dull.
iii
- My supervisor, Professor Greg Howcroft. Your wisdom, experience, and success in the field of
Psychology have inspired me to work even harder. Thank you for your willingness to assist
and accommodate me whenever, and wherever necessary with my studies; I look up to you.
- My co-supervisor, Doctor Alida Sandison. Thank you for introducing me to the realm of
personality psychology and developmental psychopathology. Your expertise on the subject is
astounding. Without your invaluable guidance, I would never have acquired the knowledge I
have today.
iv
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Declaration ...... i
Acknowledgements ...... ii
Photograph of Theodore Robert Bundy ...... xviii
Abstract ...... xix
Chapter 1: Introduction
Chapter Preview ...... 1
General Orientation to the Research Study ...... 1
Research Context and Problem Statement ...... 2
Primary Aim and Objectives of the Research Study ...... 4
Researcher’s Personal Reflection ...... 5
Chapter Outline ...... 6
Conclusion ...... 7
Chapter 2: Psychobiography as Case Study Research
Chapter Preview ...... 8
Qualitative and Case Study Research ...... 8
Psychobiography and the Study of Individual Lives ...... 14
Historical Trends and Evolving Conceptions in the Development of Psychobiography...... 19
The establishment of South African psychobiography ...... 24
Psychobiography and Related Concepts ...... 31
Autobiography, biography, and psychobiography ...... 31
Pathography ...... 33
Narrative psychology ...... 34 v
Life history research ...... 36
Psychohistory, historical psychology, and historiography ...... 37
Psychological case studies ...... 38
Personality assessment and psychobiography ...... 40
Personality psychology and psychobiography ...... 42
Psychological profiling ...... 44
The Value of Psychobiography ...... 45
The uniqueness of an individual’s case ...... 45
The role of subjective behaviour ...... 47
The inclusion of socio-historic contexts ...... 47
Emerging processes, patterns, and themes ...... 48
Theory testing and development ...... 49
Skills development in professional fields ...... 50
Conclusion ...... 51
Chapter 3: The Life of Theodore Robert Bundy: A Biographical Overview
Chapter Preview ...... 53
The Significance of Social and Historical Contextualisation ...... 53
Post-War American Life: The Emerging Customs of the Late 1940s and 1950s ...... 55
America and Identity Formation ...... 57
Serial killers: A cultural manifestation ...... 58
Definition and context of serial murder ...... 58
Types of serial killers ...... 64
A Chronological Portrayal of Theodore Robert Bundy’s Lifespan ...... 65 vi
Infancy and illegitimacy ...... 65
Pre-adolescence: Junior high school ...... 75
Adolescence: Senior high school ...... 77
Early adulthood: Acquiring independence in a new environment ...... 81
Bundy buys a Bug ...... 82
Chinese ...... 83
Love at first sight ...... 83
Adulthood: A volatile period ...... 86
Political dealings ...... 88
A transitional period ...... 89
Elizabeth Kendall ...... 91
Psychology ...... 94
Law ...... 95
Romantic affiliations ...... 97
Victims ...... 98
Victim profiles ...... 99
Washington State victims ...... 104
Utah victims ...... 107
Colorado victims ...... 109
Florida victims ...... 110
The blame game ...... 113
The Bundy trials ...... 114
First arrest ...... 115 vii
Da Ronch trial ...... 116
First escape ...... 118
Second escape ...... 119
Convictions, appeals, and death row ...... 120
Psychiatric (and psychological) evaluations ...... 122
Death Row interviews ...... 125
Carol Ann Boone ...... 126
Final confessions ...... 128
Execution ...... 128
Conclusion ...... 129
Chapter 4: Theoretical Framework: Otto Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory
Chapter Preview ...... 131
A Contextual Synopsis of the Theory: A Psychoanalytic Perspective ...... 132
Systems Model ...... 134
Process of Internalisation ...... 141
Introjection ...... 142
Identification ...... 144
Ego identity ...... 145
Developmental Stages ...... 147
Stage 1 – Normal autism ...... 148
Stage 2 – Normal symbiosis ...... 149
Stage 3 – Differentiation of self from object relations ...... 149
Stage 4 – Integration of self-representations and object representations ...... 151 viii
The id ...... 153
The superego ...... 154
The ego ...... 157
Stage 5 – Consolidation of superego and ego integration ...... 157
Levels of Personality Development ...... 159
Optimal Development ...... 160
An integrated concept of the self and others ...... 160
A broad spectrum of affective experiences ...... 161
An internalised value system ...... 161
Satisfactory management of libidinal and aggressive impulses ...... 162
Pathology ...... 163
Splitting...... 165
Projective identification ...... 167
Omnipotence ...... 169
Primitive idealisation ...... 170
Omnipotent control ...... 172
Devaluation ...... 173
Denial ...... 174
Levels of severity in character pathology ...... 176
Neurotic personality organisation ...... 177
Borderline personality organisation ...... 179
Psychotic personality organisation ...... 181
Organisation of character pathology ...... 182 ix
Higher level character pathology ...... 183
Intermediate level character pathology ...... 184
Lower level character pathology ...... 184
Critique of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory ...... 185
Conclusion ...... 190
Chapter 5: Research Design and Methodology
Chapter Preview ...... 191
Primary Research Aim and Objectives ...... 191
Research Design...... 192
The Psychobiographical Subject ...... 196
Data Collection and Analysis...... 198
Data collection procedures ...... 198
Data processing and analysis ...... 199
Alexander’s model – Textual indicators of psychological saliency ...... 202
Miles and Huberman’s three-step approach to qualitative data analysis ...... 205
Data reduction ...... 206
Data display ...... 207
Conclusion drawing and verification ...... 207
Preliminary Methodological Considerations ...... 208
Researcher bias ...... 209
Strategies applied ...... 211
Inflated expectations ...... 212
Strategies applied ...... 213 x
Analysing an absent subject...... 213
Strategies applied ...... 215
Cross-cultural differences and issues of diversity ...... 215
Strategies applied ...... 217
Reductionism ...... 217
Strategies applied ...... 221
Infinite amount of biographical data ...... 222
Strategies applied ...... 223
Elitism and easy genre ...... 224
Strategies applied ...... 225
Trustworthiness of data ...... 226
Credibility ...... 228
Strategies applied ...... 229
Transferability ...... 230
Strategies applied ...... 231
Dependability ...... 231
Strategies applied ...... 232
Confirmability ...... 233
Strategies applied ...... 234
Authenticity ...... 234
Strategies applied ...... 235
Reflexivity...... 236
Strategies applied ...... 237 xi
Ethical Considerations ...... 237
Strategies applied ...... 239
Conclusion ...... 240
Chapter 6: Findings and Discussion
Chapter Preview ...... 241
Bundy and the Phenomenon of Serial Murder: A Systematic Correlation and Validation ...241
Conceptual Outline for the Presentation and Discussion of Findings: Bridging the Gap .....254
Cultivating Basic Object relations: Bundy’s Infancy and Early Childhood ...... 256
Developing Variability and Complexity in Object Relations ...... 278
Object Relations in Middle Childhood and Adolescence ...... 282
An early pattern of isolation, social inadequacy, and adjustment difficulties ...... 282
Academia: A psychological crutch ...... 289
Inferiority and the role of shame: The perception of rejection, deprivation, and failure292
A lurking threat: Emerging evidence of anger and aggression ...... 298
Materialism: An introductory window into entitlement, grandiosity, and envy...... 302
A fantasy prone personality: Escaping reality, finding sexuality ...... 306
Time to crime: Embracing juvenile delinquency ...... 311
Object Relations in Adulthood...... 313
Social chameleon syndrome: The art of deception and manipulation ...... 313
Patterns of interaction ...... 320
An American crime story ...... 329
A God-like complex of entitlement and grandiosity ...... 332
Flipping the script: The denial of responsibility, the absence of guilt and remorse ...... 339 xii
A triple threat: Possession, control and objectification ...... 345
Sexuality and violence: A ‘deadly’ combination ...... 347
Conclusion ...... 351
Chapter 7: Conclusion, Limitations, and Recommendations
Chapter Preview ...... 353
A Psychobiographical Recapitulation of the Primary Research Aim and Objectives ...... 353
Conclusory Remarks ...... 355
Limitations of the Study and Recommendations for Future Research ...... 356
The Value of the Study ...... 361
Conclusion ...... 362
References ...... 364
xiii
LIST OF APPENDICES
Appendix A: Diagnostic Criteria ...... 418
Appendix B: Reflexive Analysis - Researcher’s Journal Entries ...... 421
Appendix C: Record of Victims’ Injuries ...... 425
Appendix D: Primitive Defense Mechanisms...... 427
xiv
LIST OF FIGURES
Figure 1: Bundy with his mother as a young boy (n.d.) ...... 68
Figure 2: Bundy playing in the snow outside his family home (1950) ...... 70
Figure 3: Bundy posing for a photograph with his mother and stepsiblings (1965)...... 73
Figure 4: Bundy with his friends at Boy Scouts (1954)...... 77
Figure 5: Bundy pictured in his high school’s yearbook (1965) ...... 80
Figure 6: Bundy proudly posing with his Volkswagen Beetle (n.d.) ...... 82
Figure 7: Bundy and Stephanie Brooks (1973)...... 86
Figure 8: The many faces of Theodore Robert Bundy (n.d.) ...... 88
Figure 9: Bundy and his former fiancée, Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Kendall (1972) ...... 94
Figure 10: Photograph of the bite marks on Lisa Levy’s buttocks (1978) ...... 102
Figure 11: Photographs of some of Bundy’s known victims (n.d.) ...... 103
Figure 12: An evidence photograph of Denise Naslund’s skull (1974) ...... 107
Figure 13: The first composite sketch that police furnished of Bundy (1974) ...... 108
Figure 14: Items recovered from Bundy’s Volkswagen Beetle (1975) ...... 116
Figure 15: Bundy in a police line-up before the Da Ronch Trial (1975) ...... 117
Figure 16: Bundy in court (n.d.) ...... 121
Figure 17: Ted, Carole, and Rosa Bundy (n.d.) ...... 127
Figure 18: Spectators outside of Raiford Prison awaiting Bundy’s electrocution (1989) .....129
Figure 19: The Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers (1950) ...... 260
Figure 20: Bundy’s mother, Louise, and stepfather, Johnnie (n.d.)...... 277
Figure 21: Twelve-year-old Bundy in Hunt Junior High School’s yearbook (1958) ...... 291
Figure 22: Bundy as a senior in Woodrow Wilson High School (1963) ...... 297 xv
Figure 23: Bundy’s childhood home in Tacoma, Washington ...... 304
Figure 24: One of the ‘detective’ magazines that Bundy read as an adolescent...... 310
Figure 25: Bundy striking a pose while washing dishes after a birthday party (1975) ...... 317
Figure 26: Stephanie Brooks (n.d.) ...... 326
Figure 27: Carol Da Ronch testifying against Bundy in court (1976) ...... 334
Figure 28: Bundy during one of his numerous trials (n.d.) ...... 339
Figure 29: Bundy during his Death Row interview with Dr. James Dobson (1989) ...... 342
xvi
LIST OF DIAGRAMS
Diagram 4.1: Kernberg’s (1984) Depiction of the Elements Contained in Internalised Object
Relations Units ...... 138
Diagram 4.2: An Illustration of Kernberg’s Five Developmental Stages ...... 148
Diagram 4.3: Personality Disorders Depicted According to Their Mutual Relations and Degrees
of Severity ...... 177
Diagram 5.1: Miles and Huberman’s (1994) Interactive Model of Data Analysis ...... 206
Diagram 7.1: The Internal Self-system in Interaction with the External Object ...... 279
xvii
LIST OF TABLES
Table 1: South African Master’s and Doctorate Level Academic Psychobiographies ...... 29
Table 2: A Chronological List of Bundy’s Known and Suspected Victims ...... 112
Table 3: Eight “Big-Tent” Criteria for Excellent Qualitative Research ...... 195
Table 4: Alexander’s (1988) Nine Principles of Salience ...... 203
Table 5: The Applicability of Serial Murderer Characteristics to Ted Bundy ...... 246
Table 6: Prominent Representations in Bundy’s life: A Thematic Framework...... 280
xviii
PHOTOGRAPH OF THEODORE ROBERT BUNDY
Gay, J. (1977). Ted Bundy photograph. Licensed under CNN on thedailyworld.com
xix
ABSTRACT
The following research study aimed to explore and describe the life and personality development of Theodore Robert Bundy (1946-1989), a serial murderer who confessed to committing more than 30 homicides across different states of America between 1974 and 1978. By examining his distinctive set of cognitions and behaviours through a psychobiographical lens, Bundy’s use of primitive defense mechanisms and level of personality pathology could moreover be identified.
In doing so, insights into the psychological motivations behind his aberrant actions could be acquired. This was attained through the application of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations
Theory to Bundy’s lived experiences. Bundy was chosen as the research subject, based on his infamous reputation and interest value through employing a purposive sampling technique, and subsequently took the form of a qualitative, single case study. Data was collected through the triangulation of multiple primary and secondary sources available in the public domain. This data collection was furthermore processed and analysed through the use of Alexander’s (1988) textual indicators of psychological saliency, and the employment of Miles and Huberman’s (1994) three-step approach to qualitative data analysis (that is, data reduction, data display, and conclusion drawing and verification). The research findings confirmed Bundy’s pathological use of primitive defense mechanisms linked to Kernberg’s description of lower-level pathologies. It additionally emphasised the significance and utility of psychobiographical studies, and highlighted the value of Kernberg’s theory in understanding personality development.
Recommendations were then made for future research endeavors to guide individuals that are interested in conducting similar studies that fall within the same genre of study.
Key words: Ted Bundy, psychobiography, Otto Kernberg, object relations, personality pathology, defense mechanisms, borderline configurations, serial murder 1
CHAPTER ONE
INTRODUCTION
“Sometimes reality is too complex. Stories give it form” – Jean-Luc Godard
(as cited in Kerpen, 2016, p. 264).
Chapter Preview
This chapter introduces the research study to the reader and orientates them to the chapters that follow. It moreover provides a brief overview of the research context, and summarises the primary aim and objectives of the study. A section on the researcher’s personal passage regarding her study is also included. Lastly, a framework of the chapters within the study is depicted.
General Orientation to the Research Study
The current study explores and describes the life and personality development of Theodore
Robert Bundy – a serial murderer found guilty of killing at least 30 young women across different states of America between 1974 and 1978. In order to gain a holistic and well-defined understanding of his distinctive character makeup, cognitions, and atypical behaviours, the researcher employed a qualitative, single-case research design in the form of a psychobiography in her study. Cozby (2004) explained that a psychobiographical approach involves “a type of case study in which a researcher applies psychological theory to explain the life of an individual that usually has historical significance” (p. 107). The researcher used Otto Kernberg’s (1966)
Object Relations Theory in an attempt to conceptualise, analyse, and interpret Bundy’s unique personality formation and psychological progression throughout his life. Kernberg’s theoretical suppositions were subsequently applied to the biographical data collected on Bundy to create a detailed psychological narrative of his life. The life history materials that allowed for the 2 reconstruction and analysis of Bundy’s life predominantly encompassed published resources such as biographies. Additional materials included academic books orientated towards the psychological development of personality, journal articles, internet sources, and transcripts from court cases and interviews.
Research Context and Problem Statement
The rationale behind this study resonates strongly with Mr. Alfred Tsetsane’s interpretation of criminals who commit serious offenses such as rape and murder – and especially serial murder.
Mr. Tsetsane is the district commissioner for the South African Department of Correctional
Services in Limpopo, Mpumalanga, and North-West Region (Zibani, 2013).
When [I] saw the prisoner sitting in front of [me], [I] was reminded of the Afrikaans
proverb: “Stille waters, diepe grond, onder draai die duiwel rond” (Still waters, deep
grounds, the devil lurks beneath). This is the case with so many people; you see them in
front of you, but they alone know if there’s a devil lurking inside of them, and you alone
know if there’s one lurking in you (Van der Spuy, 2012, p. 6).
Seemingly ‘normal’ people have committed some of the most heinous and unthinkable crimes ever known to society. The idea that an ordinary-looking individual is capable of violently killing innocent people without a hint of remorse has progressively created a sense of terror amongst the public (Levin & Fox, 2008). This research study dealt with exactly that: a severely pathological individual, who, in public, had the ability to maintain the façade of an upstanding citizen (Harmening, 2014). Wright (2013) wrote that, “the figure of [Ted] Bundy is both horrifying and compelling precisely because his appearance and his day-to-day performance of normality are so completely at odds with the accounts of his monstrous behaviour” (p. 148). 3
Keppel and Birnes (2005) agreed with the aforementioned, and additionally stated that the serial killers’ undetectable nature has sparked an increased interest in understanding psychologically motivated crimes – specifically those executed by serial killers. Their complex and obscure personality structures have moreover led to a vast amount of research being done in an attempt to discover why these individuals feel the need to kill other human beings. However, no definitive answer has yet been identified (McClellan, 2006). Consequently, the researcher utilised psychobiographical methodology in her study to gain novel insights and knowledge relating to the psychological development of serial murderers (Elms, 1994).
Psychobiography is a superlative methodological approach for the analysis and expansion of theoretical constructs. It is also an ideal design for further development and testing of the appropriateness of psychological theories, particularly those associated with personality development and the subsequent interpretation of behaviour (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010;
McGivern, 2015). For the last decade, those employed in fields of psychology (for example, clinicians and academic researchers) have encouraged post-graduate students to embark on psychobiographical studies that are not only rich and descriptive in terms of theory, but are clinically applicable and ethically sounds (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010; Ponterotto, 2015
Ponterotto & Reynolds, 2017). This has facilitated immense growth in the field of academic psychobiography (Fouché 2015; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010; Ponterotto & Reynolds, 2017).
However, Fouché (2015) asserted that there is still a great need for an increase in academically institutionalised psychobiographies both nationally and internationally. He emphasised the importance of recognising the value that is attached to studying a person from their specific background. The various aspects which influence an individual’s psychological development, for example their inherent temperament, culture and social environment, are becoming increasingly 4 significant in understanding an individual as a whole, and plays an important role in uncovering why an individual chooses to act in a specific way. We cannot look at the serial killer population as a whole before we have explored its individual occupants first. It is as Jung (2014) stated,
“There is one simple rule that you should bear in mind: the psychopathology of the masses is rooted in the psychology of the individual” (p. 218).
The researcher hoped that by employing Kernberg’s theory of personality development to the life of Bundy, a greater degree of insight regarding the motivations and development of serial killers could be reached.
Primary Aim and Objectives of the Research Study
The primary aim of this study is to explore and describe Theodore Robert Bundy’s personality development across his lifespan in accordance with Otto Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory. It is hoped that this will lead to a relevant and useful psychobiography. It should, however, be noted that the purpose of the study is not to generalise the findings to a larger population, but rather to integrate and apply the research findings to major aspects of the theories used (Schultz,
2005b; Yin, 2013). Yin (2009) referred to this as “the process of analytical generalisation” (p.
15), which will be elaborated on in Chapter Six.
Consistent with the primary aim of the study, the researcher also intends to attain four secondary objectives. These are: (1) to clarify and test the theoretical propositions made by
Kernberg by applying his theory to Bundy’s life, (2) to explore antisocial, narcissistic, and borderline personality dynamics in a bid to discover how they relate to serial murder, (3) to acquire a keen insight into the motivation behind Bundy’s behaviour and why he felt the need to kill repeatedly, and (4) to identify certain patterns or themes that were prominent in Bundy’s life, 5 and consequently lead him to use primitive defense mechanism, and develop personality pathology.
Researcher’s Personal Reflection: A Unique Journey
The researcher developed a keen interest in human functioning and behaviour long before she started her undergraduate studies in Psychology. Her foregoing experience and exposure to the effects of mental illness in her family, and her keen interest in television programs depicting police investigations, served as the foundation for her curiosity concerning psychopathology.
This essentially stimulated her fascination with serial killers. Her first-hand experiences with mentally disordered individuals led her to believe that there was more to a person than static diagnostic labels. Every person has a unique background - a life story that shaped his or her particular mode of being. It is this exact notion that sparked the researcher’s desire to gain an understanding of the person as a whole – to examine the dynamic interplay between various factors that contribute towards personality development and its associated pathology.
The researcher’s interest in abnormal or atypical cases inspired her choice of research for her Master’s degree. Her aim was to acquire a more profound, multifaceted knowledge base surrounding the motivations and drives behind severe psychopathology and personality disorders. Thus, she chose to do a study concerning the life of one of the most infamous serial murderers in documented history namely, Theodore Robert Bundy. The research subject was chosen via a purposive sampling technique based on the researcher’s choice and judgement. She wanted to analyse an individual who prompted a wide range of emotions from the reader, as well as from herself. Bundy suited this criterion perfectly, as he was continuously portrayed as someone who was extremely intelligent, charming, handsome, and normal. Yet, he carried out some of the most violent crimes known to society. The researcher moreover chose Bundy as her 6 unit of analysis due to his interest value, complexity, and the wealth of information available on him in the public domain. She could thus reinterpret history, and simultaneously capture the essence of an individual in his own contextual background from a psychological perspective
(Munter, 1975).
During her exploration and interpretation of Bundy, the researcher often felt perplexed and disconcerted by the ambiguity of his personality characteristics and extreme nature of his deeds.
However, the researcher used this sense of uncertainty to enhance her understanding of Bundy’s thought processes, psychological structures, and behavioural repertoire.
Chapter Outline
This research study comprises of seven chapters. Chapter One serves as an introductory chapter that familiarises the reader with the content of the study. This includes brief sections detailing the research context, primary aim and objectives, and the researcher’s personal motives for undertaking this specific research topic. Chapters Two through Five are literature review chapters. Chapter Two involves a theoretical overview concerning psychobiographical case study research. This is followed by a historical overview of Theodore Robert Bundy’s life in the form of a biography in Chapter Three. This chapter moreover provides an abbreviated exploration into the phenomenon of serial murder.
Chapters Four explores and describes the theoretical model of Otto Kernberg. This chapter is orientated towards an in-depth discussion of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory with the aim of providing the reader with a broad understanding of Cluster B personality disorders and their standing within his specific theory. It additionally emphasises the use of primitive defense mechanisms in instances where personality pathology is evident in an individual’s behaviour. In Chapter Five, the researcher considers the research design and methodology 7 inherent to psychobiographical studies, and identifies the various implications associated with psychobiographical methodology. The researcher’s findings are portrayed in Chapter Six. This is achieved through the application and integration of Kernberg theoretical approach to Bundy’s life, and his unique personality construction. The final chapter, Chapter Seven, concludes the research by highlighting the value of the study, as well as the limitations inherent to the study. It additionally provides the reader with recommendations for future research in the field of psychology – particularly in the areas of psychobiography, personality development, and forensic and investigative psychology.
Conclusion
This chapter encapsulated the core elements to be discussed throughout the following chapters, and acquainted the reader to the specific context of the study at hand. It moreover provided an overview of the research aim and objectives, and reflected on the researcher’s personal passage in terms of the research that she will undertake. The next chapter, Chapter Two, considers the utility of the psychobiographical research approach, and subsequently provides a more theoretical orientation to the study.
8
CHAPTER TWO
PSYCHOBIOGRAPHY AS CASE STUDY RESEARCH
"We create ourselves out of the stories we tell about our lives, stories that impose
purpose and meaning on experiences that often seem random and discontinuous. As we
scrutinize our own past in the effort to explain ourselves to ourselves, we discover - or
invent - consistent motivations, characteristic patterns, fundamental values, and a sense
of self. Fashioned out of memories, our stories become our identities" (Faust, 2004, p.
220).
Chapter Preview
This chapter outlines the various dimensions of the psychobiographical research approach regarding its qualitative nature. Explicit definitions and descriptions of psychobiography will be explored to provide a comprehensive and meaningful understanding of the approach. A brief overview of the historical trends and evolving conceptions in the development of psychobiography will be given, whilst emphasising the state of psychobiography in South Africa.
Recommendations about the future use of psychobiography in South Africa will also be deliberated. The distinct, yet subtle, differences between psychobiography and other related concepts and terms will be carefully examined. Finally, the reader will be presented with the benefits and drawbacks of doing psychobiographical research.
Qualitative and Case Study Research
While traditionally, quantifiable scientific beliefs persisted undisputedly for a substantial period; researchers are now incorporating the human constituent in their pursuit of defining truth and knowledge (Burns, 2000). Number-based quantitative research that emerged from the positivist paradigm no longer single-handedly dominates the public understanding of what qualifies as 9 scientifically valid (Cheek, 2007). For years, the emphasis in empirical psychology has been placed solely on cognition and rationality in an attempt to reduce the influences of subjectivity and emotion in decision-making and behaviour (Gilbert, 2001). The academic and disciplinary resistances to qualitative research has however become redundant, since human judgment emerging from lived experiences now plays a profound role in every human thought and subsequent action (Burns, 2000; Denzin & Lincoln, 1994; Runyan, 1982). Qualitative methods of inquiry hold unique and substantial value for the exploration of social and psychological phenomena (Gilbert, 2001), and are an accepted modes of acquiring information in the social, behavioural, and health sciences (Creswell, 2007). Creswell (2007) added that “courses on qualitative research, invitations for qualitative projects, and the emergence of qualitative journals, all speak to [its] approval and disciplinary power…within the social and human sciences” (p. 2).
Given the interdisciplinary, transdisciplinary and sometimes counter-disciplinary nature of qualitative research, authors and professionals sometimes find it difficult to arrive at an all- inclusive, universal definition of what it entails. As a set of interpretive activities that does not value one of its methodological approaches over another, it is clear to see why it does not label any theory or paradigm as being exclusively its own (Denzin & Lincoln, 2008). Instead, it assumes a multi-paradigmatic, multi-method, and iterative position (Nelson, Treichler &
Grossberg, 1992). Nevertheless, Denzin and Lincoln (2008) offered a generic definition that highlights the principal ideas surrounding qualitative methodology:
Qualitative research is a situated activity that locates the observer in the world. It consists of
a set of interpretive, material practices that make the world visible. These practices
transform the world. They turn the world into a series of representations, including field 10
notes, interviews, conversations, photographs, recordings, and memos to the self. At this
level, qualitative research involves an interpretive, naturalistic approach to the world. This
means that qualitative researchers study things in their natural settings, attempting to make
sense of, or interpret, phenomena in terms of the meanings people bring to them (p. 4).
The above definition acknowledges the extensive role that subjectivity and the authenticity of human experience plays in qualitative research (Silverman, 2013). Qualitative methodology is also primarily concerned with the naturalistic setting from which certain events and actions transpire. This enables the researcher to gain the necessary access into the interactive processes and dynamics unique to the case under investigation (Miles & Huberman, 1994). As a result, the qualitative researcher is likely to become quite personally invested in the study and can be portrayed as having empathic understanding towards the subjects involved (Burns, 2000; Corbin
& Strauss, 2008). This is due to the intensive and lengthy interaction with a certain ‘field’ or life circumstance in which the research is conducted (Miles & Huberman, 1994).
Denzin and Lincoln (2008) stated that the word qualitative accentuates the qualities or characteristics that entities hold. Rather than scientifically examining or calculating phenomena in terms of quantity, frequency, intensity, or amount, qualitative studies highlight the processes and meanings attached to them. Thus, qualitative researchers focus on the “socially constructed nature of reality, the intimate relationship between the researcher and what is studied, and the situational constraints that shape inquiry” (Denzin& Lincoln, 2008, p. 14). Consequently, the proponents of qualitative studies emphasise the value-laden nature of inquisition that seeks to answer how social experience is generated and assigned personal significance.
Unlike quantitative research that appreciates precision (Weick, 2007), Willig (2013) and
Burns (2000) maintained that the qualitative approach to research is wholeheartedly concerned 11 with the abstract meaning, context and multiple perspectives and realities that individuals’ attach to their lives. Social researchers have the sole interest of discovering and unraveling how people comprehend their world, how they experience events, and how their behaviour is influenced by their internal perceptions of reality and external conditions. Therefore, it is interested in the deep emotional texture derived from personal circumstances rather than with the inflexible principle of causation that relies on dependent and independent variables. Using preconceived variables would only serve to either distort or entirely prevent the identification of respondents’ idiosyncratic ways of making sense of the phenomenon under study (Fouché & De Vos, 2005;
Willig, 2013).
Another distinguishing feature of qualitative research is its habit of unearthing rich, in- depth, and complex information from latent, underlying, or obscure issues surrounding the topic of exploration (Miles & Huberman, 1994). This means that the research speaks to the essence of people, objects, or situations that are found in the raw, unfiltered experiences that the researcher is subjected to in the field (Berg, 1989). These unprocessed experiences are then converted into words or extended text that provide thick descriptions defined as vivid narrative reports that are situated in the real context of subjects’ perceptions and accounts of a phenomenon (Geertz, 1973;
Miles & Huberman, 1994). Qualitative researchers emphasise this use of words as it facilitates the interpretation of data and assigns significance to what has been conveyed by respondents.
When structured into meaningful stories, the use of words is the best option to encapsulate and convey the complexities and finer nuances of human experience (Stake, 1995; Tutty, Rothery &
Grinnell, 1996). Qualitative data collection methods comprise of personal interviews, unobtrusive participant observation, narratives, focus groups, documents and study reports, 12 archival material, and documentaries in the form of film or voice recordings (Strauss & Corbin,
2008; Struwig & Stead, 2004).
With the emphasis being on peoples’ lived experiences, the qualitative paradigm is highly applicable for tracing the extensive array of meanings individuals give to events, processes, and structures attached to their lives (Miles & Huberman, 1994). Their “perceptions, assumptions, prejudgments, and presuppositions” (Van Manen, 1977, p. 214) connect their meanings to the social world around them and are embedded in their basic value –and belief systems (Babbie &
Mouton, 2001; Neuman, 2006). For this reason, the concepts of holism and context sensitivity cannot be separated from qualitative inquiry, as the researcher takes into account the psychological, social, cultural, historical, political, and economic contexts wherein individuals act and are affected by (Maxwell, 2013). In this way, researchers are able to determine the effects that influence the individuals under study in order to produce novel insights or an extended comprehension of the phenomenon in question (Chéze, 2009; Miles & Huberman,
1994). It moreover allows for the examination of motives, themes, distinctions, and ideas that emerge from the dialogues, personalities and behaviourisms of those being investigated
(Rudestam & Newton, 2001).
Significant to the qualitative domain is Allport’s (1937) “idiographic” and “nomothetic” approaches to understanding individuals (Eysenck, 1994, p. 72). The term idiographic originated from the Greek word idios that translates to ‘own’ or ‘private’, whereas the term nomothetic or nomos is Greek for the word ‘law’ (McLeod, 2007). While the nomothetic approach is typically reserved for quantitative studies that focus on specific, variable-centered, and generalisable traits, idiographic methodology underscores individuality and refrains from being law-bound (Cone,
1986; Hersen, 2003; McAdams, 2005). Henson (2003) stated that idiography is person-centered 13 and revolves around the unique characteristics that individuals possess and engender. As no two people are alike, the idiographic approach accommodates intense or in-depth studies of single cases such as in the instance of psychobiographical research (Hergenhahn & Olson, 2010).
Allport (1942) believed that the application of the idiographic perspective is the only way to truly comprehend and decipher the many layers inherent to individual(s) under study, making it ideal for psychobiographical research studies. This, however, does not mean that qualitative researchers are indifferent to the accuracy of their data. While nonprofessionals may see qualitative research as being an impressionistic, impromptu analysis based on a superficial view of individuals or settings, it actually encompasses a rigorous process of systematic procedures, though not necessarily as standardised (Taylor, Bogdan & DeVault, 2016). Furthermore, it is characterised as being inductive and emerging. This is because qualitative researchers progressively develop their theory and associated patterns and themes from the ground up through consolidating data into more abstract units of information that might shift or change over time (Creswell, 2007).
Lincoln and Guba (1985) asserted that qualitative researchers are predominantly concerned with what they call “the human as instrument” approach (p. 236). This implies that the researcher serves as the main tool in the research process where a specific problem or topic needs investigating (Parker, 1999). The researcher thus actively seeks to obtain a rich and thorough awareness and appreciation of a particular case by engaging with a subject’s realistic setting.
This is done with the aim of uncovering a reliable insider’s perspective of the social processes emerging (Babbie & Mouton, 2001; Parker, 1999; Tutty et al., 1996). Of great importance is the link between the researcher’s values, and the processes involved in the actual study. Researchers cannot claim to be wholly objective or value-free, as differing perceptions, opinions, and 14 judgments are embedded in our basic human nature (Struwig & Stead, 2004; Willig, 2001).
Research reflexivity is thus required to recognise the researcher’s involvement in the formation of meanings and interpretations during the research process (Stroud, 2004; Taylor, 1999).
As is the case in qualitative studies, case study research requires the researcher to collect and present detailed information about a specific case or unit of analysis, customarily including the accounts of the subject(s) themselves (Barbour, 2014). As a form of qualitative descriptive research, a case study describes and explores a bounded system (or case) in detail by intensely focusing on a single individual or very small participant pool (Barbour, 2014; Stake, 1995). This involves in-depth data collection using various sources of content-rich information that draws conclusions about the selected subject or participant only (Creswell, 1998). For this reason, the focus is not on generalising findings and making them universal, but on gaining a unique insight into an individual’s personality, thoughts, actions, and overall behavioural patterns (Huberman &
Miles, 2002). It also possesses the capacity to illuminate particularly unusual features or deviant behaviours that are not generally observable in conventional society (Barbour, 2014). For the purpose of this study, Theodore Robert Bundy is the sole focus and unit of analysis. To contextualise and explore his life history, a psychobiographical approach to case study research is used throughout the research study. As a form of qualitative research, a psychobiography is beneficial in gaining an understanding of Bundy’s behaviour and exploring the psychology attached to his personality development (Kőváry, 2011).
Psychobiography and the Study of Individual Lives
Allport (1961) recognised that the amalgamation of a person’s life events serves as a vital element in revealing the essence of an individual’s character. When speaking of human personality, one cannot deny that it is synonymous with the occurrence of evolving life 15 experiences. Unlike other organisms, human beings possess the ability to contemplate their personal encounters with life and are able to situate them in particular social contexts. This means that individuals are by nature biographically orientated (McAdams, 1996; Polkinghorne,
1998). By inadvertently constructing an identity through integrating their life experiences into an internalised self-narrative, humans give their lives significance (Polkinghorne, 1995). Elms
(1994) explained that as innate storytellers or narrators of one’s own life, individuals have the unique capacity to ruminate on the possibilities of the future and relay past events. This narrative aptitude manifests itself through various forms of communication including myths, legends, motion pictures, depictions of history, and biographies (Chéze, 2009; Elms, 1994; Sarbin, 1986).
Even in cultures where formal biography has remained in its infancy, detailed portrayals of life histories have spread via gossip, rumours, and personal confessions (Elms, 1994).
Research, especially in the field of psychology, has now turned to psychobiography as a method of social inquiry to capture the storied nature of human conduct. It has, however, not always been received as a desirable form of methodology in exploring human lives and corresponding behaviours (Stannard, 1980). In the past, critics have written entire books to denounce psychobiography, and often preferred the use of more innocuous labels concerning their work such as “…life history, narratology, or psychological biography” (Elms, 1994, p. 4).
Will’s (1992) definition of psychobiography is representative of this initial ambivalence:
In “psychobiography”, the large deeds of great individuals are “explained” with reference to
some hitherto unsuspected sexual inclination or incapacity, which in turn is “explained” by
some slight the individual suffered at a tender age – say, 7, when his mother took away a
lollipop (p. 70). 16
Initially, even personality psychologists abstained from including biography in their academic repertoire, as it was thought of as disregarding the formulation of universal, scientific truths (Barresi & Juckes, 1997; Rosenwald, 1988). Incorporating biographical elements into scientific spheres of psychology was seen as detracting from reliable, systematic evidence. It was also viewed as depreciating the use of theoretical models of personality developmental as bases for uncovering behaviour (Howe, 1997).Thus, social researchers chose to refrain from conducting studies that focused on individual lives, as the emphasis was not on developing general conceptual –and theoretical grounds for analysis (Jacobs, 2004; Rosenwald, 1988).
Consequently, in striving to produce generalisable scientific results, the social and historical contexts that support individual behaviour and uniqueness, went disregarded.
As an alternative, Simonton (2003) argued that the implementation of historical, social, and cultural backgrounds to individuals’ lives would yield far more information about distinct human behaviour – as evidenced by the use of the psychobiographical approach. The study of a person as a whole became prevalent (Schultz, 2005a). As a result, researchers started moving away from logico-deductive modes of reasoning towards a more inductive, holistic approach for acquiring in-depth information about human perception and action (Bruner, 1986). Renowned personality psychologists such as Alfred Adler (1870-1937) and Erik Erikson (1902-1980) agreed that the use of psychology to orientate biography is perhaps the most effective way in which to portray an individual’s lifetime (Chéze, 2009; McAdams, 1994). Murray (1938) accurately summed this up through his insistence that psychology must not only address its standard set of behavioural data, but the entire life history of an individual. According to Ponterotto (2014b), the potential of psychobiography (as a research tool) is immense, and “represents a specialty area and cornerstone of the psychology profession” (as cited in Fouché, 2015, p. 376). It has made major 17 contributions to international fields of personology and psychohistory, and has played a major role in the establishment and growth of psychological theories concerned with the development of personality over time. However, psychobiography as a method for uncovering lives is still underutilised and in many instances neglected (McAdams, 2006; Roberts, 2002).
The term psychobiography originated from the words biography and psychology (Fouché &
Van Niekerk, 2010). Over the years, researchers have provided various definitions to explain psychobiography, most of which accentuate the biographical portrayal of an individual’s life embedded in psychological theory (Schultz, 2001). Most social scientists agree that psychobiographies are a form of applied psychoanalysis that generates a psychological profile of a person under investigation. The goal is thus to produce a mental construct of the individual whilst exploring their personality traits, drives, motives, scripts, ideas, and actions to capture the essence of their life (Coltrera, 1981). By highlighting personal meaning, experience, and choice, psychological principles are applied to biographical writings in order to explain how external forces of life shape the perceptions individual’s hold of themselves and others (Yow, 1994).
Ultimately, Ponterotto (2015) defined psychobiography as “the intensive life-span study of an individual of historic significance in socio-cultural context using psychological and historiographic research methods and interpreted from established theories of psychology” (p.
279). This approach is particularly useful in studying individuals whom are perceived as outliers on a spectrum of personality development and thus, covers the longitudinal and cross-cultural study of both intellectually gifted and mentally ill persons (Fouché, Nel & Naidoo, 2015). It is for this reason that Ted Bundy was selected for this study, as his personality and subsequent pathological behaviour undoubtedly illustrates severe psychological dysfunction and deviates significantly from the norm. Likewise, the use of Kernberg’s theory on Object Relations 18 articulates perfectly with the above, as his ideas are particularly relevant to psychobiographers.
This is because they can help elucidate puzzling behaviour patterns and assist in the analysis of severe character disorders (Anderson, 2003).
Understandably then, as mentioned in the previous section, psychobiographies are qualitative in nature, as it is discovery-orientated and uses an emergent design anchored in the constructivist-interpretivist research paradigm (Ponterotto, 2014b). Psychobiographical studies involve a systematic, rich exploration of an extraordinary individual, taking into consideration their socio-historic and cultural background, political and economic stance, process of socialisation, and familial history (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010; Roberts, 2002). By reconstructing a detailed picture of an individual’s life history, researchers are able to gain an in- depth understanding and psychological perspective into a subject’s lived experiences and personality development (Runyan, 1982). The purpose of this is often to prove, disprove, or build on major aspects of a particular psychological theory (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). Rather than focusing on compartmentalised episodes or stages within a person’s development, psychobiographers prefer a more comprehensive and exhaustive angle when studying an individual’s life (Van Niekerk, 2007). For this reason, psychobiographies tend to be morphogenic, as they emphasize the subject as a whole rather than focusing on isolated elements that make individuals different (Runyan, 1984). Due to these specifications, subjects included in psychobiographical studies are often deceased, lived in different time-periods, and had lasting impacts on society – whether it be to represent the good, or the worst of human nature
(Anderson, 1981a). Likewise, these subjects are always identified by name unlike participants in quantitative studies who mostly enjoy anonymity (Fouché, 2015). 19
Any psychological evaluation of a deceased person includes a great deal of iterative research
(Nortjé & Fouché, 2013). Although psychobiographical studies may vary in format, the general aim remains to reconstruct and reinterpret an individual’s life through researching documents and materials – usually available in the public domain (De Vos, Strydom, Fouché, & Delport,
2011). In most, if not all cases, psychobiographers utilise biographical data mainly accumulated by other researchers such as biographers, historians, specialists in the field under study, and even journalists (Fouché, 2015). This allows the researcher to make sense of, and translate the subject’s life into an informative, yet compelling narrative, as data is collected from a large assortment of public data sets (Schultz, 2005a). It is, however, important to note that the focus of psychobiographical data collection should never solely rest on solving an established research problem or question. The researcher should rather be concerned with gathering information that is essentially interesting as well as historically –and psychologically relevant (Fouché, 2015).
Schultz (2005a) highlights the crux of this section through his analogy of poems:
People are like poems…And like poems, people may be interpreted in different ways, some
even contradictory. Poems and people are not so much explained as understood. We make
sense of them. We bring them to coherence (p. 6).
Historical Trends and Evolving Conceptions in the Development of Psychobiography
The interest value and production of psychobiographical material has fluctuated over the past century, yet novel insights suggest that the last two decades have witnessed a renewed surge of interest in psychobiography (Schultz, 2005a). However, in order to conceptualize or conjure up a vision of psychobiography going forward, it is first vital to understand the historical trends and development of psychobiography as an integrative specialty within the field of psychology
(Ponterotto, 2015). Due to the somewhat arbitrary process of establishing historical recollections 20 or periods in the history of an intellectual discipline (Ponterotto, 2015); the following discussion will only elaborate on major events that contributed to the birth and development of psychobiography.
The widely contested method of psychobiography is often dated to Sigmund Freud’s innovative psychological profile of the Italian genius, Leonardo da Vinci, in 1910 – ‘Leonardo da Vinci and a Memory of his Childhood´. This piece of work proved to be an early application of Freud’s theory of psychoanalysis and stimulated emerging psychoanalysts to generate psychological sketches on various historical figures (Elms, 1994; Ponterotto, 2015). The widespread popularity of Freud’s Leonardo marked the first true union between literary biography and psychology (Chéze, 2009; McAdams, 1994). During the course of publishing these initial writings, Freud coined the term ‘psychobiography’. He emphasised that prospective psychobiographers should abstain from pathologising or idealising their research subjects, should avoid constructing arguments based on isolated elements or cues, and should avoid conclusions founded on inadequate or insufficient data (Elms, 1988 as cited in Ponterotto, 2015).
Although Freud’s study of Da Vinci was well intended, he neglected the role of objectivity prescribed to psychoanalytical scientists at that point in time, which restricted the overall accuracy of his analysis. Freudian and psychobiography scholars often criticised Freud’s over- identification and self-projection relating to his analysis of Da Vinci (Ponterotto, 2015).
According to Elms (1988), Jones (1955), and Spector (1972), Freud projected his own unconscious struggles and psychological conflicts onto Da Vinci’s life that centered on issues pertaining to Freud’s own career and existential anxiety, his unresolved issues with his parents, and his homosexual inclinations. While the introduction of psychoanalytic theory offered the opportunity to demonstrate how juvenile desires and frustrations corresponded to drives in 21 adulthood and illustrated the supposed dynamics underlying creativity, it proved to be somewhat problematic in terms of psychobiographical criteria. Freud’s claim, which suggested that Da
Vinci’s drawings emanated purely from an infantile wish, appeared difficult to prove (McAdams,
1988, 2006).
Regardless of violating his own methodological cautions, Freud’s work still managed to redefine the aim of both psychology and biography as applied psychoanalysis. Psychoanalytic and other psychodynamic approaches persisted to anchor numerous psychobiographical studies that followed in the 20th century and continued to do so into the 21st century. The Freudian era contributed immensely to psychobiographical inquiry and highlighted the importance of aspects such as the value of in-depth theoretical knowledge, its application to deceased individuals, and bridging the intellectual disciplines of history, biography and psychology (Ponterotto, 2015).
Following Freud’s pioneering work on Da Vinci, psychoanalysts turned their attention to the psychology behind artist personalities’ in writing psychobiographies. Among them were M.
Graaf (about Wagner), Ernest Jones (about Shakespeare), Karl Abraham (about Amenhotep the
4th), Isidor Sadger (about Heinrich von Kleist), and P. Smith (about Luther) (Kőváry, 2011). The rise of artist-orientated psychobiography stimulated controversy and heated disputes from those opposed to artistry. They claimed that the authors managed existing literature like “some museum that is easy to access, using its exhibited objects to justify new hypotheses” (Schönau,
1998, p. 32). These suppositions were predominantly of a psychopathological and not psychobiographical origin as initially intended. Psychopathological perspectives dominated concepts of creativity in classic psychoanalysis; consequently, pathography became a key element of psychobiographical analyses in the first half of the 20th century (Kőváry, 2011). 22
Psychobiographical studies enjoyed popularity in Europe and North America from around
1910 through 1940 (Ponterotto, 2015). However, the production of psychobiographical research
(especially those concerning the lives and personalities of artists) declined rapidly between the time of World War II and the mid-60s. This regression was due to the increasing penchant towards positivist research in the field of psychology, where nomothetic, experimental, and quantitative approaches started taking precedence (Ponterotto, 2015; Runyan, 1988a). Large samples, generalisable results, and the deconstruction of the human as a whole into specific sets of measurable cognitions, attitudes, feelings, and behaviours, governed studies pertaining to personality development (Elms, 1994; Runyan, 2005). Nonetheless, during and after World War
II, a handful of researchers were still involved in psychobiography through advances in psychological and political profiling and the emerging field of personology (Ponterotto, 2015).
The end of the World Wars resulted in a renewed interest in psychobiography, causing a shift from nomothetic to idiographic research methods (Ponterotto, 2015). Gordon Allport and
Henry Murray were among the most significant contributors that focused on the intensive study of individual lives in the late 1960s. The psychosocial theorist, Erik Erikson, also played a vital role in promoting psychobiography at the time (Ponterotto, 2015). Together, these three scholars, along with other junior colleagues and their students, reinvigorated the study of the person and coined the term ‘personology’ as a specialty within the broader scope of personality psychology
(Cara, 2007; Ponterotto, 2015; Schultz, 2005b). Most notably, Erikson’s Young Man Luther: A
Study in Psychoanalysis (1958) and his analysis of Mahatma Gandhi - Gandhi’s Truth: On the
Origins of Militant Non-Violence (1969)–were viewed as leading examples of psychobiography’s gradual maturation process, subsequently forming rigorous guidelines for conducting psychobiographical research (McAdams, 1988). Allport and Murray also sought to 23 develop novel frameworks pertaining to psychobiographical research methods including personal document analysis, autobiographical accounts, and psychological assessment tools to investigate the lives of ‘average’, non-clinical persons (Ponterotto, 2015). The result of this was an expansion of psychobiographical theory that grew from traditional psychoanalysis to a more comprehensive selection of possible theories that could be used to interpret individual lives. The rationale for this was that human beings are too complex and multifaceted to be understood through the application of a single theoretical interpretation – especially when studying the life of an individual who lived within a different social, cultural, or historic context (Ponterotto,
2014a; Schultz, 2014).
Since the 1970s, an upsurge in the production of psychobiographies has been documented.
This proliferation accompanied the expanding institutionalisation of the field, as evidenced through the development of professional organisations, conferences, specialty journals, and post- graduate dissertations (Runyan, 1988a). This increase is attributed to various factors. These include (Kőváry, 2011; Ponterotto, 2014b; Roberts, 2002; Schultz, 2005a, 2005b): a) a growing interest in the life course; b) a disillusionment with static approaches to data collection; c) a restored interest in holistic research concerned with lived experiences; d) a greater acceptance of qualitative research methods; and e) positive feedback from both the research community and lay public relating to published
psychobiographies by psychologists in diverse domains.
In the last decade, many psychobiographers have advocated for the conceptualisation of psychobiography as a science of personality or as a fixed discipline to study lives (Howe, 1997;
McAdams, 2005). This is due to the expanding recognition that both psychology and biography 24 constitute necessary parts in the process of unraveling and fully comprehending the relationship between human experience and behaviour – albeit an ‘uneasy alliance’ (Elms, 1994; Runyan,
1988a). Researchers have started appealing for more meticulous and detailed research methodologies that can foster a more intentional and calculated application of scientifically supported theories to secure psychobiographical studies (Schultz, 2014). The idea is to transform psychobiography into a more vigorous science that would be entrenched in (1) the application of more empirically validated and testable theories of psychology; (2) the use of more rigorous historiographic research approaches accompanied by some quantitative methodologies; and (3) ethical vigilance relevant to the planning, executing, and reporting of psychobiographical studies
(Ponterotto, 2015). Even though the above is viable, Runyan (1982) and Schultz (2005a) stressed the insufficient number of psychobiographical studies being undertaken in longstanding academic settings, and noticed that finding formal academic training in psychobiography is a scarcity. In recent years, only a handful of scholars have truly stood out in terms of psychobiographical research. These include Irving Alexander’s book titled ‘Personology:
Method and Content in Personality Assessment and Psychobiography’ (1990), Alan Elms’ work called ‘Uncovering Lives: The Uneasy Alliance of Biography and Psychology’ (1994), and
‘Handbook of Psychobiography’ (2005) written by William Todd Schultz.
The establishment of South African psychobiography. Over the past decade, South
Africa has witnessed the metaphorical birth and growth of psychobiography as an established research genre and methodological approach that has spiked the interest of many academics and postgraduate students in the field of psychology (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). Since its academic inception, the significance of psychobiography - as a form of writing that captures the essence of lived lives - has attempted to build a more crystallised South African identity from the 25 mid-2000s onwards (Fouché, 2015). Most local psychobiographies have been completed as postgraduate research ventures in Master’s and Doctoral psychology degree programmes where academics have fostered the field of psychobiography into a full-fledged strategic research focus area within their faculties (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
In 1939, M.P.O Burgers was the first person to generate a psychologically inspired memoir about a noteworthy South African figure in his book called ‘Die mens Langenhoven’, which served as a rudimentary attempt towards psychoanalysing author Cornelis Jacobus Langenhoven
(Burgers, 1939; Van Niekerk, 2007). Following his initial success, Burgers conducted a similar study on the poet Louis Leipoldt (1960) that consequently stimulated Van der Merwe (1978) to take on a third study on the life of poet, Ingrid Jonker. It was not, however, until the publication of Chabani Manganyi’s (1991) psychobiographically inspired book ‘Treachery and Innocence:
Psychology and Racial Difference in South Africa’, that several academic psychobiographies started emerging in the South African branches of psychology (Van Niekerk, 2007). The majority of these studies have stemmed from the psychology department of Nelson Mandela
University in Port Elizabeth, which, due to the migration of staff members, prompted the same interest at Rhodes University in Grahamstown, the University of the Free State in Bloemfontein, and the University of Johannesburg (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
In August 2007, Fouché, Smit, Watson, and Van Niekerk, conducted a systematic survey on psychobiographies completed in South Africa from 1995 to 2004. The survey centered on revealing the general directions or ‘trends’ that various departments of psychology in South
African universities were moving towards concerning psychobiographical research (Fouché et al., 2007). The results indicated that Levinson’s (1978, 1990) Developmental Theory on men and women was the most popular theory used by South African academic psychobiographers to 26 investigate personality dynamics of chosen individuals. Maslow’s (1970) Motivational Theory;
Digman’s Five-factor Model (1990); Erik Erikson’s (1963, 1981) Psychosocial Theory; and
Jung’s (1950) Analytical Psychology Theory, have also held preference over many other theories in South African psychobiography. Recently, the Medical Sociological Theory of Salutogenesis by Antonovsky (1988), and the Conceptual Model of Holistic Wellness developed by Witmer and Sweeney (1992), has also become favoured choices to explore the lives of prominent South
African personalities (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
Interestingly, the survey indicated that despite the termination of the Apartheid regime and patriarchal system, all studies were conducted on white individuals with the exception of Gerard
Sekoto and Bantu Stephen Biko, who were of African ethnicity. No psychobiographical studies were performed on either coloured or Asian personalities. According to results assembled regarding the male-female ratio, the survey demonstrated a clear predilection for studying males in South Africa (Fouché et al., 2007). Additionally, the majority of South African psychobiographers chose to explore subjects involved in politics, followed by extraordinary personalities relevant to the fields of sport, the arts, religion, and medicine (Fouché et al., 2007).
Lastly, the survey demonstrated that at the time, most psychobiographical studies in South Africa were restricted to postgraduate work in the form of treatises, dissertations, and theses that were prerequisites for obtaining a degree. No recognised journal publications were available, and an insufficient amount of research papers were worthy of presentation at scientific congresses on the topic (Fouché et al., 2007; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
However, the latter part of the last decade has reflected a renewed enthusiasm among South
African academic psychobiographers and revealed a greater biographical diversity concerning gender and occupational fields of individuals under investigation (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). 27
Several articles have been published in the South African Journal of Psychology about psychobiographical research, including life history research, developmental history, life stories, and identity discourse analyses. This increased output of psychobiographies can partly be explained through the rise of six recent occurrences. These include: (1) the growing awareness of logistical and administrative benefits; (2) the migration of postgraduate supervisors between different departments of psychology; (3) the establishment of psychobiography as an area of concentration in academic environments; (4) the demand for theory-driven enquiry; (5) the recognition and appreciation of remarkable South African personalities; and (6) the positive psychology movement (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
Although much has been done to promote the value of psychobiography in South Africa, there are still a number of shortcomings and subsequent challenges that need to be addressed in order to move forward in academic circles. Among them are the need (Fouché & Van Niekerk,
2010):
to continuously engage with and expand postgraduate psychobiographical research studies -
not only in South African universities, but in Africa as a whole;
for additional research on significant female figures and African identities;
for the use of a greater diversity of, or the integration of, multiple psychological theories to
explore and interpret the lives of chosen subjects;
for supplementary exposure and promotion of academically institutionalised
psychobiography to the public and academic professionals (Fouché et al., 2007);
for the effective dissemination of findings, via congress presentations, accredited journal
article publications and books on psychobiography (Fouché et al., 2007); 28
to establish more pervasive, national and international ties with other academics and
departments engaged in the field by South African psychobiographers/researchers;
for more psychobiography publications on current South African celebrities to attract the
younger generation to research in the field, and;
for greater awareness related to best practices in psychobiography, and the enhancement of
ethical sensitivity in psychobiographical research undertakings in general (Ponterotto, 2010,
2013, 2014a).
From the aforementioned, it is not hard to conclude that psychobiographical research and supervision have remained dormant in many institutions in South Africa and that there has been a lack of formal coursework to prepare prospective researchers for this form of research. The latter is at fault for delaying its development (Muchena, Howcroft, & Stroud, 2015). In order to shape institutionalised academic psychobiography into a recognised field of research, more than passion for the genre will be required from supervisors, academic scholars, and postgraduate students (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). An active, social academic movement through the launch of psychobiographical studies as a part of the syllabus at graduate level in departments of psychology at South African universities is needed to ensure sensitisation amongst young graduates. This sets the foundation for novel conceptions and theoretical perspectives that can be used in future postgraduate research studies (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). To follow is a list
(depicted as Table 1) of South African master’s and doctorate level academic psychobiographies completed between 1939 and 2016. It should, however be noted that the list may be incomplete due to the fact that many master’s or doctoral students have not yet graduated after the completion of their psychobiographical studies. Thus, their research has not yet been recorded on 29 the Internet or in journal articles, and has not been made available to the public through South
African university sources.
TABLE 1: South African Master’s and Doctorate Level Academic Psychobiographies (1939 – 2018) Psychobiographical Subject Researcher Degree Year Cornelis Jacobus Langenhoven Burgers, M.P.O. M.A. 1939 Louis Leipoldt Burgers, M.P.O. D.Litt. 1960 Ingrid Jonker Van der Merwe, L.M. Ph.D. 1978 Gerard Sekoto Manganyi, C. M.A. 1996 Jan Christiaan Smuts Fouché, J.P. DPhil 1999 Helen Martins Bareira, L. M.A. 2001 Bantu Stephen Biko Kotton, D. M.A. 2002 Balthazar John Vorster Vorster, M.S. M.A. 2003 Wessel Johannes (Hansie) Cronjé Warmenhoven, A. M.A. 2004 Mother Teresa Stroud, L. DPhil 2004 Albert Schweitzer Edwards, M.J. M.A. 2004 Bruce Fordyce Morrison, N. M.A. 2004 Cornelis Jacobus Langenhoven Jacobs, A M.A. 2005 Wessel Johannes (Hansie) Cronjé Warmenhoven, A. Ph.D. 2006 Christiaan Neethling Barnard Van Niekerk, R. M.A. 2007 Karen Horney Green, S. M.A. 2007 Hendrik Verwoerd Claasen, M. M.A. 2007 Ray Charles Biggs, I. M.A. 2008 Melanie Klein Espinosa, M. M.A. 2008 Herman Mashaba McWalter, M. M.A. 2008 Isie Smuts Smuts, C. M.A. 2009 Helen Keller Van Genechten. D. M.A. 2009 Jeffrey Dahmer Chéze, E. M.A. 2009 Emily Hobhouse Welman, C M.A. 2009 Mahatma Gandhi Pillay, K. M.A. 2009 Kurt Cobain Pieterse, C. M.A. 2009 Ralph John Rabie Uys, H.M.G. M.A. 2010 Ernesto “Che” Guevara Kolesky, C. M.A. 2010 Frans Martin Claerhout Roets, M. M.A. 2010 Alan Paton Greeff, M. M.A. 2010 Paul Jackson Pollock Müller, T. M.A. 2010 Christiaan de Wet Henning, R. Ph.D. 2010 Bram Fischer Swart, D.K. M.A. 2010 Emeritus Desmond Mpilo Tutu Eliastam, L.M. M.Soc.Sci. 2010 Vincent van Gogh Muller, H. M.A. 2010 Brenda Fassie Gogo, O M.A. 2011 John Winston Lennon Kitching, P.H. M.A. 2012 Olive Schreiner Perry, M.J. Ph.D. 2012 Francis Bacon Kerr, N. M.A. 2012 30
Winston Churchill Moolman, B.A. M.A. 2012 Friedrich Nietzsche Booysen, D.D. M.A. 2012 John Wayne Gacy Pieterse, J. M.A. 2012 Josephine Baker Eckley, S. M.A. 2012 Ellen Kuzwayo Arozi, Z. M.A. 2013 John Wayne Gacy Coetsee, E. Ph.D. 2013 Helen Suzman Nel, C Ph.D. 2013 Dambudzo Marechera Muchena, K.C. M.A. 2013 William Wilberforce Daubermann, B.P. M.A. 2013 Rev James Warren “Jim” Jones Baldwin, G.A. M.A. 2013 John Henry Newman Mitchell, G.P. M.A. 2013 Martin Luther King Junior Twaku, U. M.A. 2013 Martin Luther King Junior Kemp. S. M.A. 2013 Steven Paul Jobs Moore, N. M.A. 2013 Glenda Watson-Kahlenberg Connelly, R.E. Ph.D. 2013 Steve Jobs Ndoro, T. MBA 2013 Michael Jackson Ruiters, J. M.A. 2013 Antwone Fisher Wannenburg, N. M.A. 2013 Christiaan Neethling Barnard Lekhelebana, V M.A. 2014 Pope John Paul II Navsaria, K. Ph.D. 2014 Helen Martins Mitchell, D.L. M.A. 2014 Richard Trenton Chase Nel, H. M.A. 2014 Martin Luther King Junior Pietersen, S. M.A. 2014 Roald Dahl Holz, T. Ph.D. 2014 Walt Disney King, B Ph.D. 2014 Angela Merkel Mayer, C. Ph.D. 201? Elisabeth Kübler-Ross Venter, E. Ph.D. 201? Steve Biko Bazana, S. Ph.D. 2014 Richard Branson Preston, A.L. Ph.D. 201? Mewalana Jalaluddin Rumi Julies, Z. Ph.D. 201? Michael Jackson Ruiters, J.J. M.A. 2014 Beyers Naudé Burnell, B. Ph.D. 2014 Vuyiswa Mckonie Baatjies, V.P. M.A. 2015 Bashar al-Assad Kerrin, C.K. M.A. 2015 Margaret Hilda Thatcher Marx, M. M.A. 2015 Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill Human, S. M.A. 2015 Charlize Theron Prenter, T. M.A. 2016 Marie Curie Roets, E. M.A. 2016 Steve Jobs Du Plessis, R. M.A. 2016 Sybrand Gerhardus Pretorius Harwood, C.S. MCom 2016 Ian Kevin Curtis Kitching, P.H. Ph.D. 2017 Milton Hyalnd Erickson Ramasamy, K Ph.D. 2017 Robert Nesta “Bob” Marley Willis, L.S. M.A. 2017 Beyers Naudé Fourie, R. Ph.D. 2018 Note: Adapted from “Academic psychobiography in South Africa: Past, present and future” by J.P. Fouché and R. van Niekerk, 2010, South African Journal of Psychology, 40(4), pp. 497-499; 31
“The life of Oliver Schreiner: A psychobiography” by M. Perry, 2012, Unpublished doctoral dissertation, p. 130; “The life of Beyers Naudé: A psychobiographical study” by B. Burnell, 2013, Unpublished doctoral dissertation, p. 28; and the National Research Foundation (NRF): National ETD portal of South African theses and dissertations, Retrieved from http://www.netd.ac.za/?query=psychobiographyandaction=search Psychobiography and Related Concepts
In many instances, the word ‘psychobiography’ is understood as being synonymous with other closely related terms such as biography, pathography, or life narrative. In actuality, subtle, yet distinctive differences exist between them. In order to allow for clarity and a richer understanding of psychobiography as a form of ‘life-writing’ (Stroud, 2004), a brief description of other related concepts and/or research areas follow below.
Autobiography, biography, and psychobiography. The term ‘autobiography’ describes any form of documentation (such as a book) or formulation of a person’s life story that is composed by that same individual (Bertaux, 1981; Bromley, 1986). It is the recreation of a person’s intimate life experiences converted into written format, and usually falls into the literary genre. Customarily, autobiographies are written in the first person, unlike biographies or psychobiographies, which depend on external resources and an outsider’s perspective
(Berghegger, 2009). Autobiographical works are by nature more subjective and biased. Even in cases where the author refers to objective records or facts, the inability – or unwillingness – of the author to recall memories or events accurately, may result in misleading or erroneous information. This is because an autobiography offers the author the opportunity to ‘recreate’ history or past events (Berghegger, 2009). Nevertheless, the characteristics of an autobiography often coincide with that of a biography in that both draw from various sources of information to aid in the construction of the literary piece. These include the use of letters, diaries, journals and photos. (Bertaux, 1981; Bromley, 1986; Roberts, 2002). 32
As mentioned above, the features of a biography differ from that of an autobiography. This is mainly because biographies offer in-depth portrayals of individuals’ lived experiences that are written from an outsider’s perspective (that is, not by the actual subject under investigation)
(Chéze, 2009; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2005a). Fouché (1999) asserted that biographers usually possess limited to no psychological training and merely write from an informal literary stance.
Moreover, there are no clear indications as to whether the subject under study would cooperate, and there is no validation as to whether the biography would be scientifically exhaustive and precise, or not (Fouché, 1999).
A psychobiography on the other hand, is the integration of biography and psychology
(Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010). This means that a psychological theory is applied to a biography in order to gain an in-depth understanding and psychological perspective into a person’s lived experiences (Runyan, 1982). Generally, the subject is also deceased or ‘long-dead’, as the individual’s entire lifespan is taken into account in a holistic manner (Schultz, 2005a). While both fields complement one another in terms of having an interest in life narratives and a reliance on biographical data, the fundamental difference between the two lies in the degree to which a psychological theory is applied to the interpretation of the data (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
Biographers tend to depend on a form of subjectivity and intuition that emphasises the individuality of their subjects as opposed to their commonalities; whereas psychology moves towards a more traditional, systematic application of conceptual models to explain their subject’s personality development and behaviour (Howe, 1997; Van Niekerk, 2007). Nonetheless, both fields seem to have attained an established alliance that involves reciprocal benefits of bettering one another (Fouché, 2015). 33
Pathography. Pathography is what Schultz (2005a) called “psychobiography by diagnosis”
(p. 10) and defined it as a method whereby the complex whole of a personality is reduced to static, psychopathological categories and fixed lists of symptoms. Unlike psychobiographies, pathographical studies fail to succeed in interpreting and integrating a range of events, thoughts and behaviours; it merely assigns a clinical-diagnostic label to an individual based on a set of diagnostic criteria, indicating the nature of an illness (whether it be physical or psychological)
(Elms, 1994; Schultz, 2005b). In oversimplifying a life or pigeonholing behaviours, a subtraction of the humanistic element occurs – an element regarded as being of high importance in psychobiography. Good quality psychobiographies attend to as much information about a person as possible when analysing or uncovering lived lives (Schultz, 2005b).
According to Schioldann (2003), pathography evolved out of a scientific and medical curiosity as researchers and professionals from selected psychology, medical and psychiatric fields analysed individuals’ personality development through focusing on aspects such as biological heredity, physical pathology, psychopathology, and historical biography. The aim was to medicalise and pathologise neurotic and other related drives and predispositions hidden in the lives of individuals, who possessed an extraordinary talent, were influential or famous, or who displayed interesting or disturbing behaviour unknown to conventional society. For example, finding selfish motives and compulsions at the root of apparently well-intentioned individuals known for their altruistic actions such as Mother Teresa (Kőváry, 2011; McAdams, 2006).
Over the years, pathography has received much criticism regarding issues such as an excessive reliance on singular cues to interpret intricate and detailed sets of behaviours, and researchers’ over-identification with their research subjects – becoming more of a self-analysis than anything else (Kőváry, 2011). Modern-day psychobiography has overcome these concerns 34 by moving away from psychopathological centered approaches towards a more narrative and exploratory approach that promotes human experience and psychological understanding. Schultz
(2005a) highlighted this by stating that “we don’t get a good sense of the fluid dynamics of a life, its strengths and weaknesses, its infinite subtlety and grace, from one-sided pathographic
‘disease’ sniffing” (p. 16). However, this does not mean that psychobiography seeks to ignore pathology in its entirety. Rather, it acknowledges its function as a component that forms part of the larger picture (Kőváry, 2011; McAdams, 1988). The best insights are instead, acquired through linking a nexus of supporting facts and sets of evidence drawn from biographical and other records (Wiltshire, 2000).
Narrative psychology. Murray (2003) described a narrative as “an organised interpretation of a sequence of events [which] involves attributing agency to the characters in the narrative and inferring causal links between the events…to define ourselves, to clarify the continuity in our lives and to convey this to others” (p.113-116). Thus, it is interested in the manner in which individuals organise and bring order to their experiences through their choice of words to assign meaning and significance to an event or circumstance. This is relayed in the form of a personal life story that has the ability to encapsulate and convey the multiple layers of human experience and individual interpretation (Stake, 1995; Tutty et al., 1996). Thus, it can be seen as a form of research that acknowledges the value and role of language in expressing subjective accounts of events (Willig, 2013).
Although narratives form part of psychobiography in the sense that both are involved with analysing subjective experiences, key differences exist between the two. Whereas psychobiographies usually concentrate on a single individual and their unique experiences throughout their entire life (that is, from birth to death), Bruner (1990) indicated that narratives 35 usually materialise when people lack a sense of organisation and coherence and when life feels disrupted, unorganised or confusing. Accordingly, when a discrepancy arises between people’s experiences of ideal or real, or when there are conflicts between the self and society, people are often inclined to tell narratives. These include trying times such as illness or bereavement where they attempt to make sense of, or derive meaning from an event, keeping chaos at bay (Rimmon-
Kenan, 2002 as cited in Willig, 2013). From this, it can be concluded that narrative researchers focus on particular experiences.
Many researchers consider narratives as playing an integral role in the construction and maintenance of self-identity. People possess the ability to choose what stories to reveal and what stories to mask or alter. In doing so, they are active in building their own identities that may present a sense of localised coherence and stability, and a predetermined picture of themselves to others (Murray, 2003). In most instances, psychobiographies involve deceased individuals, making it almost impossible for the subjects to give first-hand accounts of their experiences, except for in those cases where autobiographical material is available (Schultz, 2005b). It is therefore up to the researcher to make interpretations about a subject based on available
(secondary) data using one or more psychological theories or perspectives, as questions cannot be asked directly to the subject under investigation.
In addition to facilitating a deep, meaningful conversation regarding an individual’s life experiences, narratives also automatically imply an audience that will not only listen to their story, but be influenced by it. As a result, a strong need for community and support in one’s identity can be met by opening up oneself to others and allowing them to become part of the overall life story (Belenky, Clinchy, Goldberger & Tarule, 1986). This process has the potential of fostering further understanding and growth (Belenky et al., 1986). Even though 36 psychobiography embraces a form of narrative by including biographical elements, it holds much less therapeutic value than narrative psychology in that it employs a more scientific application and integration of psychological theory to uncover why individuals act in a certain way
(McAdams, Josselson & Lieblich, 2001).
Lastly, McAdam et al. (2001) asserted that psychobiography differs from narrative psychology as it incorporates multiple methodological perspectives and renders innovative and novel theoretical insights. Furthermore, it is not compulsory for psychobiographical studies to incorporate a narrative based theory in order to make sense of lives (Schultz, 2005b). Most psychobiographers are also structuralists that prefer to discuss something real and approach the subject as “tangibly knowable, not as a text function” (Schultz, 2005a, p. 17).
Life history research. Life history research can be construed as “…a scientific reconstruction and interpretation, based on the best evidence available, of major formative, critical and culminative episodes in a person’s life” (Bromley, 1986, p. 8). Life histories allow researchers to study a person’s individual experiences within a broader context (that is, past major external/uncontrollable circumstances at specific points in time) (Bromley, 1986). Runyan
(1982) asserted that life history research is useful since it provides information of distinctive social experiences through gaining a comprehensive understanding of individuals’ current thoughts, attitudes and behaviours based on previous decisions made at different times and places. This information is acquired through the use of semi –or unstructured interviews with the subject(s) in question.
By gathering verbal or written testimonies from a small group of people who share certain similarities (for example, ethnic lineage, lifestyle preference, or occupation), common patterns can be identified to assist in gaining an understanding of the group and its dynamics (Bertaux, 37
1981; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2005b; Watson, 1976). Thus, its aim stands somewhat in opposition to that of psychobiography as life history research seeks to recognise and decipher similarities amongst individuals, rather than focusing on the exclusivity and idiosyncrasies of a single life (Bromley, 1986; McAdams, 1994; Rosenwald, 1988). As life histories concentrate on homogenous aspects that exist between people, it is also more capable of reaching generalisable conclusions or results than psychobiographical studies. Nonetheless, life histories still hold value for psychobiography, as a subject’s subjective historical account is of great significance to uncover causal aspects of behaviour and personality formation (Rosenwald, 1988).
Psychohistory, historical psychology, and historiography. Runyan (1982, 1988b) postulated that a substantial amount of uncertainty exists surrounding the definition and scope of psychohistory due to underlying, and unresolved tensions that transpired between the disciplines of history and psychology. The ambiguity of the relationship has resulted in cooperation and recognition of mutual interest, while simultaneously exuding qualities of suspicion, misunderstanding, and passive hostility (Runyan, 1988). While history involves the study of human deeds related to past events and circumstances, psychology is concerned with aspects of human behaviour, perception, and interpretation of experience (Louw & Edwards, 1994;
Simonton, 1994). Together, they coincide in the form of psychohistory (that is, the application of psychology to history) in the same way that psychobiography serves as an amalgam for psychology and biography. Overall, Runyan, (1988b) and Schultz, (2005a) conceptualised psychohistory as the application of known psychological theory to analyse and interpret historical occurrences within its political, social, and cultural framework. Psychohistory thus differs from psychobiography as it places more emphasis on historical events and their impact on people than on personality development and consequent behaviours. 38
Even though the term ‘historical psychology’ sounds synonymous to psychohistory, it really encompasses quite the opposite. Whereas psychohistory places emphasis on the impacts of historical events, historical psychology refers to the actual history or development of the field of psychology and its accompanying psychological theories and phenomena (Runyan, 1988b, 2003, as cited in Chéze, 2009). In this instance, psychobiography operationalises these developed theories and concepts in order to interpret the life and behaviour of a certain individual.
Lastly, historiography or historical research refers to a systematic and objective research process that is chiefly past orientated, and seeks to elucidate questions of current interest by studying existing documentation or material related to past events (Simonton, 1994; Berg, 1995).
Thus, material such as government documents, public records, newspaper editorials, confidential reports, photos, films, and artefacts are explored in an effort to accumulate past information with the aim of reconstructing it into meaningful historical explanations linked to current occurrences
(Berg, 1995). Through the above explanations, the divergence between psychobiography and history-related concepts is clear. Although psychobiography engages with the element of history to gain a more rounded and exhaustive picture of a subject’s life, it is limited to that specific individual’s memories, perceptions, emotions, thoughts, behaviours, and personality development over their lifespan, not to general historic knowledge.
Psychological case studies. In many instances, the use of case study methodology remains a debatable technique to data collection. However, when in-depth, holistic explanations related to social behaviour over time are required, case study methodology takes a popular stance, especially in social –and behavioural science studies such as psychology (Zainal, 2007). Through reports of past studies, case study research grants one the opportunity to explore, describe, and understand a complex issue or topic such as poverty or drug addiction (Johnson, 2006) by 39 answering why or how in response to a specific question (Yin, 2009). According to Stake (1995) and Zainal (2007), case studies facilitate researchers in meticulously examining previously obtained or existing data from within a certain framework comprehensively. Generally, the case study approach encompasses a small geographical region or a narrow participant pool that frequently includes the subjective accounts of the subjects themselves. Likewise, it is the preferred method in situations where relevant behaviours cannot be controlled or manipulated
(Zainal, 2007). Although critics perceive a small number of cases (or a single case) as offering no grounds for establishing a sense of reliability and generalisability, and often feel that the intense exposure to cases can result in biased findings, social researchers embrace this form of uncertainty (Yin, 2009; Zainal, 2007). This especially applies to instances where single-case research studies are involved, as the researcher’s goal is to explore and describe an isolated case rather than to uncover a generalisable truth.
The quintessence of a psychological case study thus lies in its ability to investigate an existing or ongoing phenomenon or situation by executing an elaborate background investigation
(or contextual analysis) of events and its immediate relationships (Zainal, 2007). Therefore, the case study research method can ultimately be defined as “an empirical inquiry that investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real-life context; when the boundaries between phenomenon and context are not clearly evident; and in which multiple sources of evidence are used” (Yin, 1984, p. 23). In addition, Patton and Appelbaum (2003) suggested “…that the ultimate goal of the case study is to uncover patterns, determine meanings, construct conclusions and build theory” (p. 67). Whilst the underlying philosophy of psychological case study research and psychobiography correspond, they are dissimilar. The primary difference between the two lies in the fact that psychobiography is interested in the person’s whole life story from beginning 40 to end, while psychological case studies focus on particular emotional episodes or specific, noteworthy events in the subject’s life (Bromley, 1986). However, it must be mentioned that although differences exist, case descriptions still play an integral role in the psychobiographical process, as it may serve as a valuable method of data collection in investigating a case in its entirety.
Personality assessment and psychobiography. Krug (2013) stated that if personality refers to the entirety of influences that delineate what a person does in a particular situation, then personality testing and assessment is the process of quantifying those influences. Personality assessment is an objective form of applied psychological measure that falls under the discipline of psychometrics. It seeks to understand the psychology of an individual, whether it be from a clinical, counseling, health, occupational, forensic or educational perspective (Coaley, 2009).
Moreover, it is designed to describe, predict, explain, diagnose, and/or make decisions about a particular individual based on their personality characteristics (Coaley, 2009). Thus, the focus of a personality assessment is on the process of compiling information about a certain person and subsequently using it to make inferences about the person’s attributes, or to predict their future behaviour (Krug, 2013).
Assessments involve accumulating and comparing information about a person from a range of sources such as interviews, personal records, observation, test results, and statements from family members, friends, or professionals (Hubley & Zumbo, 2013). In psychology, tests and measures are leading assessment techniques and may be thought of as “… standardised procedures for sampling behaviour” (Hubley & Zumbo, 2013, p. 3). Words such as scale, instrument, questionnaire, and tool are used interchangeably with the words ‘test’ or ‘measure’.
Notably then, the aim of assessment is a far cry from that of psychobiographical studies, as the 41 focus is on the theory and techniques associated with both the measurement of constructs (for example, neuroticism), and the development, interpretation, and evaluation of test results
(Hubley & Zumbo, 2013). Examples of major personality assessments include the Minnesota
Multiphasic Personality Inventory-2, NEO Personality Inventory-3, Millon Clinical Multiaxial
Inventory – III, and the 16 Personality Factor Questionnaire respectively (Krug, 2013).
From the above, one can conclude that personality assessments are merely measurement procedures or tools used to evaluate individuals whom are still progressing through life (Fouché,
1999). It concentrates on a person’s present thoughts, feelings and behaviours, and analyses specific constructs such as personality traits, values, motivations, emotional intelligence, or cognitions to draw certain conclusions about a person’s character (depending on what assessment is used) (Caprara & Cervone, 2000, 2004). Psychobiographies, however, are not interested in evaluating lives in progress, as the complete history of a person’s lived life is needed in order to construct a successful research study. Subjects included in psychobiographical studies are analysed according to their subjective experiences and behaviours, which differentiates it from personality assessments that mostly adhere to objective, quantitative specifications that rely on percentages to obtain results. Thus, standardised personality assessments (and psychometric tests in general) have little utility in providing motives for why things occurred in a person’s life
(Alexander, 1990). Although psychobiographical research and personality assessment both require ample descriptions of certain personalities that are embedded in time and context, they vary in that a deceased subject eliminates the value of predictive outcomes and rather emphasises the significance of understanding the multiple layers and successive actions of an individual
(Alexander, 1990). 42
Lastly, Kőváry (2011) stated that many personality assessments focus on clinical aspects of personality formation (that is, diagnoses), whereas recent trends in psychobiography lean towards avoiding any form of pathography. Due to ethical and juristic reasons, several details are often withheld in the distribution of assessment results, which limits the exploration and understanding of psychological facets rooted in the subject’s life history. For example, results surrounding the subject’s private life and characteristic flaws can cause a great deal of embarrassment, and making them available to the public can cause even more unnecessary psychological stress in the subject’s personal and professional life (Kőváry, 2011). In psychobiographical research, the inconvenience of informed consent and confidentiality are avoided, as it usually deals with deceased individuals and publically available data. Thus, psychobiography enables researchers to track human development via methods that supersede fixed, generalisable personality assessments or other clinical case study research (Fouché & Van
Niekerk, 2005a).
Personality psychology and psychobiography. As a coherent sub-discipline of psychology
(Craik, Hogan & Wolfe, 1993), personality psychology or personology refers to the scientific study of an individual’s psychological makeup – that is, what makes a person who they are
(McAdams, 2009; Meyer, Moore & Viljoen, 2008). It is concerned with distinctive and unique differences in characteristic patterns or styles of human thinking, feeling, and behaving
(American Psychological Association [APA], 2000). Personality psychology focuses on two broad areas of inquiry namely, understanding individual differences in certain personality features such as sociability, irritability or conscientiousness, and understanding how the various elements of a person’s personality merge together to form a whole (APA, 2000; Meyer et al., 43
2008). Overall, Pervin (1996) offered a simplistic, yet well-rounded definition of what personology entails:
Personality psychology is the study of the complex organisation of cognitions, affects, and
behaviours that gives direction and pattern (coherence) to the person’s life. Like the body,
personality consists of both structures and processes and reflects both nature (genes) and
nurture (experience). In addition, personology examines the effects of the past, including
memories of the past, as well as constructions of the present and future (p. 414).
Thus, it can be concluded that personality psychology is involved with investigating psychological traits and mechanisms within an individual that are structured and fairly enduring, and that influence patterns of interaction, and means of adaption to intrapsychic, physical, and social environments (Larsen & Buss, 2005). Based on an individual’s current and specific personality traits, professionals are also able to assess future behaviour, adding the component of prediction. Yet, the most comprehensive constituents of personology originate from personality theories, as it is “…the outcome of a purposeful, sustained effort to develop a logically consistent conceptual system for describing, explaining and/or predicting human behaviour” (Meyer et al.,
2008, p. 5).
Psychobiographical studies and personality psychology have a lot in common, as both strive to obtain a complete understanding of a person under study using psychological theory and principles. Many concepts of modern personality psychology are parallel to contemporary psychobiographical research (McAdams & Pals, 2007). In addition, both are interested in aspects that involve the individual’s life history and their continuous personality development that led to certain behaviours (Alexander, 1990). There are, however, slight differences between them. As mentioned previously, psychobiography studies a single individual over their entire and 44 completed lifespan. Therefore, it accommodates an isolated, yet comprehensive understanding of a specific person under investigation. On the contrary, personology can deal with deceased as well as living individuals and is able to generalise the application of personality theory to almost any person. In the case of living subjects, prediction of future behaviour is possible. Prediction of future action is, however, not an option when working with deceased personalities in psychobiographies. It can also be said that psychobiography is a more concentrated area of research that falls within the broader spectrum of the personality psychology discipline
(Alexander, 1990). Prediction of a person’s behaviour according to their personality traits are primarily related to psychological profiling, which will be discussed in the next section.
Psychological profiling. Psychological profiling is an investigative technique or tool aimed at identifying a detailed description of an individual’s major personality characteristics and behavioural patterns in order to make a reasonable prediction as to what he/she may do, or act like in the future (Brussels, 1968; Federal Bureau of Investigation [FBI], 1986; Kocsis, Irwin,
Hayes, & Nunn, 2000). By studying a person’s mannerisms or recurrent actions, one can deduce what kind of person the individual might be. Thus, profiling is a process of reversal (Brussels,
1968). As an approach to problem solving, both physical (for example, cigarettes left at a crime scene) and intangible, abstract evidence (that is, based on theory or hypotheses) are gathered during psychological profiling to formulate a comprehensive understanding of a subject (Canter,
Alison, Alison, & Wentink, 2004).
How an individual perceives themselves, others and the external word, surfaces through their choice of behaviour. Behavioural manifestations are thus a response to underlying psychological motivations and affective changes that have originated from influential events or relationships (Christopher, Bickhard, & Lambeth, 2001; Holmes & Holmes, 2002). Therefore, by 45 grasping these underlying psychological impulses and motives, researchers or professional profilers are able to obtain greater insight into the reasons behind a subject’s behaviours, and are subsequently able to make certain predictions about impending behaviour (Holmes & Holmes,
2002). Jerrold (2006) postulated that although psychobiographical research studies do elicit some conjecture regarding the individual under study in terms of their personality, the chosen context
(or theoretical perspective) would ultimately influence the response of researchers. Furthermore, in psychobiographies, the subject, their personality characteristics, and chosen behaviours are already evident, unlike in psychological profiles where the individual’s demographic information is still indefinite. It is also a likely premise that psychological profilers work with individuals’ whom are thought to still be alive, whereas psychobiographical studies mostly operate under the assumption that their subjects are deceased.
The Value of Psychobiography
Considering the growth in both the national and international recognition of psychobiography, it is unsurprising that numerous academics have promoted its worth within the field of psychology
(e.g. Anderson, 1981; Carlson, 1988; Elms, 1994; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2005, 2010, 2015;
McAdams, 2005; Ponterotto, 2013, 2014a, 2014b; Runyan, 1982, 1984, 1988, 2005; Schultz,
2005b). The following section highlights the advantages of conducting a psychobiography as part of a qualitative case study research design.
The uniqueness of an individual’s case. As previously discussed, the ongoing struggle for scientific respectability has caused many psychologists and academic researchers to avoid any notion directed at studying a single, specific case. In several instances, researchers equated individual variation to statistical error, relentlessly pursuing the generalisable instead (Elms
(1994). Alternatively, Elms (1994) suggested that one should celebrate detail, diversity, and 46 contingency rather than blindly denouncing the undeniable value of studying a unique incident.
Allport (1937, as cited in Elms, 1994) recognised that personality researchers could uncover ways to “capture the processes that create a subject’s individuality, while remaining a serious scientist who abides by all the unartistic ‘hindrances’ involved in responsible treatment of data”
(p. 16).
The real value of psychobiography lies in its ability to generate an understanding of the inevitably complex, creative and contradictory nature of a single human being. It requires one to investigate the deeper underlying motives, scripts, unconscious ideas, and personal psychological conflicts that drive an individual to certain actions (Schultz, 2005b). In discovering why someone did what they did, or how they became the person that they are (or were), researchers are able to determine how individuals find meaning in their lives. This multilayered exploration allows for a more intimate understanding of the individual being studied and creates a mental construct of the person embedded in their unique contexts and experiences that have consequently shaped them into person that they have become (Schultz, 2005b).
Psychobiographies necessitate the interpretation of an individual from various angles, as real life situations are unpredictable and cannot be controlled or manipulated as in laboratory settings.
Rather, psychobiographical studies acknowledge the importance of investigating a life in its entirety, exploring an individual’s life holistically, and over their complete lifespan. By providing a detailed, in-depth overview of a person’s life whilst incorporating the numerous contexts and situations an individual finds themselves in, one is able to gain a great deal of insight (Elms, 1994). Thus, by studying the uniqueness of an individual case, researchers can come to know just how a person functions and comes to be who they are (Schultz, 2005b). 47
The role of subjective reality. In psychobiographical studies, the researcher aims to view an individual’s behaviour as a product of how they subjectively interpret their world (Bogdan &
Taylor, 1975). Psychobiography thus exposes the researcher to the in-depth accounts of a subject’s internal experiences of external events, and the cognitions and emotions that go with them (Babbie & Mouton, 2001). Corey (2005) emphasised that how an individual interprets reality, and what meanings they attach to certain occurrences, is of far more value than scientifically equated objective facts, as no human perceives a situation in an identical manner.
Thus, in order to gain a detailed understanding of an individual, one must attempt to see the world through their eyes (Schultz, 2005b). Researchers are able to do this by using and comparing an array of documentation and data sources to reconstruct the subjective reality of an individual’s life (Elms, 1994). By studying an individual from their worldview, the researcher is also able to cultivate a certain amount of sympathy or empathy with the subject. This emotional awareness forms the foundation upon which the researcher can construct a captivating and insightful narration of the individual’s life (Runyan, 1982; Schultz, 2005b). Additionally,
Goodson and Sikes (2001) asserted that other people’s perceptions of the subject might even be challenged or repudiated if the individual’s life story is conveyed accurately and successfully through the study.
The inclusion of socio-historic contexts. Besides emphasising the significance of studying a single, isolated case and the corresponding subjective meanings an individual gives to their life, psychobiographies are also beneficial in that they analyse subjects within their own set of unique socio-historic contexts and environments (Patton, 2002). This includes the person’s psychological, social, cultural, historical, political, economic, and familial contexts that have either directly or indirectly influenced their personality development, thought processes, attitude 48 towards the self and others, and view of life itself (McAdams, 1994; Polkinghorne, 1988;
Runyan, 1988a). By using this approach, a more holistic and detailed portrayal of the individual
(in this case Theodore Bundy) is possible. This facilitates a greater understanding of the individual, as emphasis is placed on the broader contextualised background and microenvironments within which he (Bundy) interacted and existed. Through incorporating the above-mentioned in one’s study, it becomes easier to notice emerging as well as recurrent behavioural patterns, processes, and themes that have played a central role in a subject’s life.
Emerging processes, patterns, and, themes. Psychobiographies are advantageous in that they have the ability to shed light on a subject’s behavioural processes and developmental patterns (Runyan, 1982). As psychobiographies are predominantly conducted on completed lives, researchers are able to retrospectively trace patterns of human development and identify themes that were unique to the individual’s life (Carlson, 1998). In return, this enables researchers to determine behavioural triggers that led the subject to act in certain (habitual) ways
(Gronn, 1993). Fouché and Van Niekerk (2005a) and Runyan (1984) agreed that the above facilitates in the recording of different dimensions and processes in personality functioning and assists in clarifying previously inexplicable information to form connections that were vague during the onset of the study.
The longitudinal nature of psychobiography serves to create a more comprehensive and cohesive representation of the subject under investigation (Alexander, 1990). This allows for the discovery of new and emerging patterns and themes, as well as for the confirmation of existing ones (Schultz, 2005b). Additionally, consistencies and inconsistencies between data sources, omissions in the literature, and key information may also manifest throughout the course of the 49 research study (De Vos et al., 2011). Ultimately, the value lies in the researcher’s ability “…to capture the processes that create a subject’s individuality” (Elms, 1994, p. 16).
Theory testing and development. Theories instigate and drive the development of research.
In doing a psychobiographical study, the researcher is not only able to provisionally substantiate or refute a theory, but can actively expand on, or improve existing theories (Schultz, 2005b).
This means that theory testing and development is primarily concerned with whether a certain theory, or at least a hypothesis, provides a plausible explanation of a phenomenon under investigation. Additionally, the process of theory testing and/or development can also serve as a precursor for formulating a new theory (McLeod, 1994). Schultz (2005a) argued that psychobiography is psychology’s toughest challenge as it “…brings various findings to bear on single lives, discovering what works and what does not” (p. 4). Thus, a single case is able to propel further investigation and may serve as a basis for future extrapolations (Schultz, 2005a).
Elms (1994) stated that psychobiography is a useful approach to theory testing as it promotes the testing of “…the statistically significant against the personally significant” (Elms,
1994, p. 12). He explained that lives do not take place in controlled laboratory settings. Even though the statistical analysis of data may generate results on isolated variables (such as intelligence) of people in general, one cannot study personality as a whole, experimentally. To understand a person’s personality formation and behavioural choices requires interpretation, not variable manipulation (Carlson, 1971). Thus, research is significant when it is pertinent to a life, and not solely when it has passed a statistically validated test (Elms, 1994).
Schultz (2005b) added that psychobiographical research assists in the formulation of novel insights and the identification of patterns and themes based on an individual’s unique life story, that, in time, may lead to formal propositions or hypotheses that can be tested against other 50 individuals or larger groups of people (if desired). Yin (1994) corroborated the above statement by maintaining that studying deceased individuals, as in the case of psychobiography, aids researchers in tracing human development, consequently acting as a framework for generalisation. This is done through analytical generalisation that is employed to compare research findings of a study to an existing theory that was developed to examine, test, and develop it further, rather than to apply a statistical judgment to a population (Babbie & Mouton,
2001; Yin, 1994). Thus, the knowledge gained from psychobiographical research may assist in illuminating conceptual complexities that prompt theory refinement (Schultz, 2005b). It is hoped that applying psychological theories to the life of Theodore Bundy will contribute to the body of knowledge, specifically in areas focused on personality development and Object Relations theory, which the researcher aims to highlight throughout the study. Moreover, the study holds value for professionals in the health and social sciences, as it assists in skills development training (Creswell, 1994; Kőváry, 2011; Ponterotto, 2015).
Skills development in professional fields. Practicing psychologists and counselors deal with a range of individuals that present with unique problems, life stories, and experiences on a daily basis. Thus, these professionals are not only confined to theoretical principles, but are actively involved in the application of them to real, complex lives (Elms, 1994). For this reason, the in-depth study of an individual’s life is of great value, as it provides the researcher (or clinician) with further knowledge of theoretical paradigms and a newly found frame of reference to better understand and help clients during consultations or psychotherapy sessions (Kőváry,
2011; Ponterotto, 2015).
Kőváry (2011) argued that research practice using psychobiography could also function as a supplementary aid in training future psychologists. In many instances, their training consists 51 mostly of theory-based modules and on learning how to conduct quantitative research and assessments. In developing practical competencies, this focus needs to shift. Psychology students need to acquire thorough and in-depth knowledge of not only the psychological functioning of others, but also need to gain a firm understanding of themselves (that is, self-awareness) in order to apply it successfully in practice. Kőváry (2011) stated that “this knowledge can only be created by in-depth, integrative personal work that is not based on statistic evaluation of correlated personality traits, but on the understanding of individual lives by case studies and exploration of life stories” (p. 767). To remedy this issue, teaching and applying contemporary psychobiographic approaches should be established as part of the core curriculum in undergraduate and postgraduate psychology departments. This could be highly beneficial in educating students on understanding the meaning of individual lives, and appreciating the use of self-reflection (Kőváry, 2011).
Despite the many advantages mentioned above, several drawbacks linked to psychobiographical research present themselves as methodological criticisms that require careful consideration to ensure that the quality pertaining to the research is maintained (McAdams,
1994; Roberts, 2002; Stroud, 2004). These will be discussed in detail in Chapter Six.
Conclusion
This chapter grounded the present study in the context of psychobiographical research and described how it formed part of the broader field of qualitative inquiry. It examined and explained the contextual foundation and related theoretical underpinnings in detail by providing definitions and descriptions of psychobiography, as well as other concepts associated with the study of lives. Psychobiography and its current position within South African universities was also highlighted. To conclude this chapter, the researcher emphasised the advantages and value 52 that psychobiographical studies have to offer to the realm of research. In the next chapter, the researcher will present a case history of Theodore Robert Bundy (who will be referred to as
Bundy for the remainder of the study) to portray the most significant aspects of his life.
53
CHAPTER 3
THE LIFE OF THEODORE ROBERT BUNDY: A BIOGRAPHICAL OVERVIEW
“The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n”
(Milton, 1851, book. 1, p. 30).
Chapter Preview
This chapter presents a historical overview of the life of Theodore Robert Bundy, also known as
The Lady Killer or The Campus Killer. His life history is chronicled from the time of his birth in
1946 to his death in 1989. The researcher ensured that the descriptions provided on Bundy’s life are exclusively embedded within the unique social and historical contexts of the time. A section on serial murder is also included.
The Significance of Social and Historical Contextualisation
Oftentimes, behavioural scientists and nonprofessionals alike instantly relegate the phenomenon of serial murder to the realm of sin and evil. Indeed, Bundy’s acts of brutal sexual assault, torture, murder, mutilation, necrophilia, and cannibalism have stripped his character of anything that resembles humanity, and have eternally degraded him to the status of a ‘monster’ that lived amongst men (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Raine & Sanmartín, 2001). While most may label those who kill repeatedly as monstrous or animalistic, one cannot deny the human component of such perpetrators – especially in the context of academic research (Skrapec, 2001). Therefore, in order to achieve a complete and meaningful understanding of such a notorious individual as
Bundy, it is important for the researcher to afford the psychobiographical subject due respect, and to practice reflexivity at all times (discussed in Chapter 6). Skrapec (2001a) stated that once researchers accept subjects – but not necessarily their actions – as human beings, a window of 54 opportunity opens that permits the researcher to gain in-depth knowledge into the subject’s personality development, motives, thought processes, behavioural repertoire, perceptions of the self and others, and the external environment in which it was all fostered. For this reason, the researcher was attentive to Pistorius’s (2002) description of serial murderers throughout the study of Bundy: “Serial killers are not monsters; they are human beings with tortured souls. The tragedy of serial homicide is its dichotomy – serial killers kill because they suffer, and by killing cause immense suffering” (p. 5).
Ultimately, one has to look beyond the ‘what’ to discover the ‘why’ and ‘how’. This means that in instances where a researcher is dealing with a subject that has committed heinous crimes, she should place the subject’s behaviour within a broader context to establish why they acted as they did, and how outside influences played a role in forming their perception of the external world (Elms, 1994; McAdams, 1994, 1996, 2006; Schultz, 2005a). To realise the aforementioned, it is vital for the researcher to take into account the subject’s socio-historical context. Caprara and Cervone (2000) and Santrock (2001) stated that a unique life narrative could only be created once the researcher considers the cultural, economic, political, and religious climate in which the subject lived, and what psychological impact the latter had on him.
Likewise, the researcher should also explore the subject’s familial environment and subsequent interpersonal relationships, as it plays a substantial role in personality –and identity formation.
For these reasons, it is necessary for the researcher to provide a detailed, multidimensional depiction of Bundy’s life in the form of a biographical overview that is both chronologically correct and contextually embedded.
55
Post-War American Life: The Emerging Customs of the Late 1940s and 1950s
The Second World War ended in 1945, approximately a year before Bundy was born. Rippo
(2007) reported that the years after the termination of World War II were characterised by feelings of prosperity, excitement, and jubilation. Those who served in the military and armed forces were met with celebratory parades and were regarded as unflinching American heroes
(Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009). The cessation of the War also led to an exceptionally large number of couples who thought it an ideal time to start (or extend) their families, since the American economy was progressively recovering, and developing at a rapid pace (Cayton, Gorn &
Williams, 1993). Individuals that were born during this period are often referred to as Baby
Boomers due to the tremendous increase in overall birthrates that “…effectively created the most heavily populated generation in American history” (American cultural background, para.1, n.d.).
However, the mass influx of male soldiers into the workforce thwarted any prospects that females had to grow or establish themselves in social, political, or economic settings
(Eisenmann, 2006).
According to Cayton et al. (1993), the general culture of the late 1940s and 1950s embodied a socially conservative nature that emphasised rigid, traditional gender roles. While the men returned from war and adapted to the role of hard-working breadwinners, the women were expected to remain at home to perform domestic tasks such as cooking, cleaning, and child rearing. Eisenmann (2006) stated that post-war American life required women to adhere to domiciliary margins, as it was their “patriotic duty” (p. 12) to fend and protect the nation’s
“…democratic familial values against the threat of communism” (p. 237). On the rare occasions that women did manage to work, it was more likely to be due to financial hardship and need than to pursuing a career goal or finding emancipation from social, political, or economic constraints 56
(Cayton et al., 1993). Owing to the clearly defined and fixed moral tenets of the time, it was also exceedingly shameful to birth a child out of wedlock (Sullivan, 2009). Illegitimacy was taboo, and women who did unfortunately succumb to risqué sexual practices and became pregnant, were ostracised from their family homes, placed in institutions catering for unwed mothers, and criticised harshly by community members (Rippo, 2007). Women were publically branded as promiscuous when their sexual activities became known. Ironically, society allowed men to brag about their sexual profligacies and afforded them the reputation of being ‘alpha males’ or ‘studs’
(Rule, 2009).
Additionally, the upsurge in economic success and novel technological developments (for example, television sets) in the 1950s were largely beneficial to the country and produced one of the most extensive volumes of material wealth ever known to America (Cayton et al., 1993).
America formed a consumer culture, which prompted its society to spend money indiscriminately and to indulge their worldly impulses and desires on a whim. Millions of
Americans bought new homes in upper-class suburban areas, started purchasing expensive cars and fancy appliances, and reveled in eating in lavish restaurants and owning the latest fashion items (Cayton, et al., 1993). At the time, the exaggerated consumerist behaviour present in
America also fostered a distinguished sense of conformity. Anything or anyone that attempted to transgress the norms unconsciously stipulated by their society was met with unreserved suspicion and/or judgment. As a relatively homogenous group, the majority of Americans seemed to possess a ‘like-mindedness’ in their belief and value systems, and even exhibited similar haircuts and clothing styles (Cayton et al., 1993).
57
America and Identity Formation
During the late 1950s and 1960s (when Bundy entered adolescence and young adulthood),
American culture attempted to form a new identity that was somewhat in opposition to their previously applied notion of conformity. According to Erikson (1963) American culture converted to a more individualistic and private existence where parents afforded their children the dual status of being independent, yet orthodox and reliable. Lee (2001) explained that childhood had become rather complex in that children “…were still cocooned within the family home, but were simultaneously opened to a world of consumer choice in which they were important players in their own right” (p. 76). Childhood ambiguity and complexity, especially during adolescence, became highly prevalent (Lee, 2001). Erikson (1968) highlighted this sense of confusion by stating that the identity formation of the American adolescent served as a
“…tentative combination of dynamic polarities” where great uncertainty existed in choosing whether to be “…migratory or sedentary, individualistic or standardised, competitive or cooperative, pious or free-thinking, and responsible or cynical” (p. 259).
The rapid changes in terms of both local and international immigration, urbanisation, industrialisation, class stratification, and race and gender liberation caused additional emotional tension among American citizens, which ultimately left their traditional sense of identity feeling threatened (Erikson, 1968, as cited in McGivern, 2015). As a result, some Americans became resolute and unwilling to change their established American ways, while others attempted to adjust accordingly to the active changes of society by teaching their children the value of tolerance and equality. Unfortunately, adolescents were situated in the middle of these opposing identities. While they later learned that an attitude of acceptance and consideration was needed to ensure a successful future for them, it also blurred their original sense of what was perceived as 58
‘right’ and ‘wrong’. Moreover, it created uncertainty in terms of what they thought of themselves and what their opinions of others were (Erickson, 1968). Consequently, many adolescents moved towards a less demanding, delinquent form of behaviour in order to ascertain some (or any) form of identity. Wilson (2004) corroborated the above through stipulating that “the 1960s saw the emergence of the next level: the crime of self-esteem, the criminal whose basic craving was to be somebody” (p. 637).
Serial killers: A cultural manifestation. Wilson and Seaman (2007) maintained that the phenomenon of serial murder – and homicidal tendencies in general – started to surface more prominently after the period of the Second World War. In accordance, Knight (2006) stated that the occurrence of serial murder emerged during a time of historical upheaval where America was in the process of crystallising an alternative cultural framework (as discussed in the previous section). Thus, Haggerty (2009) and Wilson (2004) suggested that the escalation of crimes involving violence and aggression (particularly serial murder) was partly attributable to the shift in social and cultural conditions.
Definition and context of serial murder. An outline of the basic definitional aspects of serial murder and character traits of serial killers is necessary for the reader to gain a more complete understanding of the individual under study. Over the last 50 years, professionals in law enforcement, psychology, and research have struggled to generate a definition of serial homicide that has the ability to classify and differentiate serial murderers from other types of killers without error (Federal Bureau of Investigation [FBI], 2008; Ferguson, White, Cherry,
Lorenz & Bhimani, 2003). Consequently, the research literature pertaining to the definition of serial homicide lacks consensus and homogeneity (Keeney & Heide, 1994). Ferguson et al.
(2003) argued that it is an exceedingly difficult task to produce an all-encompassing description 59 of serial murder as “the critical components of serial murder exist not in broad, clearly identifiable behaviours, but rather in the mind and motives of the perpetrator himself or herself”
(p. 292). Furthermore, the FBI (2008) stated that while most of these definitions include similar premises, they vary in the number of murders or victims involved, the motivational typology attached to the killings, and the temporal dimensions of the murders. According to Simons
(2001), Special Agent Robert K Ressler originally proposed the use of the word ‘serial killer’ in the 1970s while working for the FBI in the United States of America to describe the grisly murders committed by Ted Bundy (Pistorius, 2002; Wiest, 2011). Although difficult to define,
Pistorius (2002) indicated that authors’ definitions pertaining to serial homicide have started to evolve, and have progressed from one-dimensional, simplistic descriptions to more comprehensive and complex explanations.
Cormier, Angliker, Boyer, and Mersereau (1972) initially tried to clarify this sort of violent crime by labeling it as ‘multicide’ and defined it as “…a number of murders committed by one perpetrator and spread over a significant period of time…where the motivation was primarily pathological” (p. 335). Subsequently, Cameron and Frazer (1987, as cited in Pistorius, 2005) included a sexual element to the concept of serial homicide by arguing that serial killers (usually men) murder their “sexual objects” – be it other men, children, or women – by combining the act of murder with “…sexual assault, rape, torture, and mutilation” (p. 73). Considering previous efforts, Ressler and Shachtman (1993) attempted to refine the meaning of serial murder even further, and produced one of the most comprehensive definitions to date: “a serial killer [is] a person or persons who kill more than three victims, during more than three events, at three or more locations, with an emotional cooling-off period in between [each murder]…premeditated 60 planning and fantasy are also present” (p. 6). The researcher, however, thought Pistorius’s (2005) definition to be the most accurate, and inclusive account of serial murder:
A serial killer is a person (or persons) who murder several victims, usually strangers, at
different times and not necessarily at the same location, with a cooling-off period in
between. The motive is intrinsic; an irresistible compulsion, fueled by fantasy which may
lead to torture and/or sexual abuse, mutilation and necrophilia (p. 75).
The inclusion of cognitive and behavioural aspects such as cooling-off periods and fantasy generation and repetition (as mentioned in the last two definitions) are fundamental to understanding, and differentiating serial killers from any other form of murderer (Douglas,
Burgess, Burgess, & Ressler, 1992). Wilson, Yardley, and Lynes (2015) stated that cooling-off periods occur when serial killers detach or separate themselves from the physical activities that lead them to commit murder. This period is generally characterised by a form of re-integration into normal societal activities where their offending behaviours become dormant for days, weeks, months, or even years (Wilson et al., 2015). Fox and Levin (2005) furthermore described these passive breaks between murders as “…having long time lapses between homicides, during which time [the killer] maintains a more or less ordinary life, going to work and spending time with family and friends” (p. 17). Besides a cooling-off period, the role of (sexual) fantasy is also one of the most prominent and discriminating factors in the identification of a serial murderer
(Bartels & Parsons, 2011). Fantasy can be described as an “elaborate set of cognitions (thoughts) characterised by preoccupation (or rehearsal), anchored in emotions, and originating in daydreams” (Prentky, Burgess & Carter, 1989, p. 887). According to Schlesinger (2004), the fantasies of serial killers are usually associated with images of sexual arousal or stimulation, and are of an erotic nature. Thus, it can be said that fantasy acts as an internal drive or force for 61 repetitive behaviours such as sexual violence, and ultimately murder (Prentky et al., 1989).
Bartels and Parsons (2011) concurred with the above by maintaining that serial killers “are obsessed by their fantasies of murder and are driven to repeat their crimes until these fantasies are perfectly acted out” (p. 268). However, it must be emphasised that the physical act of murder only takes place once their cognitive activities (that is, rich, abstract fantasy-life) translates to reality (Prentky et al., 1989). MacCulloch, Snowden, Wood, and Mills (1983) explained this process in detail:
Once the restraints inhibiting the acting out of the fantasy are no longer present, the
individual is likely to engage in a series of progressively more accurate ‘trial runs’ in an
attempt to enact the fantasy as it is imagined. Since the trial runs can never precisely match
the fantasy, the need to restage the fantasy with a new victim is established. The more the
fantasy is rehearsed the more power it acquires and the stronger the association between the
fantasy content and sexual arousal. The repeated pairing of…fantasised cues with orgasm
results in their acquiring sexually arousing properties (p. 22).
In accordance with the above, Prentky et al. (1989) commented that serial killers moreover demonstrated a higher incidence of paraphilia such as exhibitionism (exposing the genitals) or voyeurism (spying on unsuspecting persons during private activities such as undressing)
(American Psychiatric Association [APA], 2013). Bundy, for example, participated in voyeuristic activities before his fantasies manifested into real-life murder. The presence of paraphilic behaviour in serial murderers implies that they have an elevated preference for fantasy. Thus, activities’ relating to peeping or indecent bodily exposure not only stimulate internal fantasies, but also grants the serial killer with the incentive and/or motive to act out their fantasy (Prentky et al., 1989). 62
Lastly, authors such as Douglas and Olshaker (1997), Geberth (1996), Hickey (1997),
Holmes and Holmes (1998), Keppel and Birnes (2003), Krafft-Ebing (1886), Miller (2000), and
Ressler and Shachtman (1993) noted several characteristics that apply to most (but not all) serial killers. These include:
a dysfunctional family life with the presence of abuse and/or neglect;
a father that is either literally or symbolically absent, and exhibits controlling and/or
authoritative behaviours during their formative years;
a mother that is either rejecting and punitive, or smothering, controlling and/or infantilising1;
a negative affect, outbursts of uncontrollable rage, incomprehensible, random mood swings,
and an unappeasable sex drive;
an early presentation of criminal activity such as petty theft, arson, or grand theft auto during
adolescence that usually escalates into violence towards others;
instrumental drug and/or alcohol abuse;
a vivid (usually violent or aggressive) fantasy or imaginary world;
a manipulative demeanor and/or the propensity for deceptiveness/deceitfulness;
a history of cruelty towards animals;
the ability to come across as ‘normal’ and sociable in front of others;
a general lack of conscience and emotional attachment; and
the inability to take responsibility for their actions.
1 To treat someone in such a way as to deny him or their maturity in age and/or experience – an externally imposed form of regression where the ‘other’ is reduced to an earlier or lower developmental stage. A parental figure or caretaker generally commits this act. 63
Regarding their victims, Krafft-Ebing (1886) moreover noted that most (but not all) serial killers:
objectify, humiliate, and/or degrade their victims;
take souvenirs or trophies from their victims;
seldom harm or murder their partners (for example, girlfriends of wives)
experience sexual and psychological enjoyment or satisfaction from the infliction of torture or
pain on others;
generally possess a signature that they leave behind at a crime scene (that is, an invariable
‘personal touch’ that has no direct association to the execution of the murder itself, but fulfills
a psychological need, for example, a serial murderer that forces his victims to wear red
stilettos before murdering them);
always include an idiosyncratic modus operandi (or, mode of operation) when committing a
murder (that is, a changeable technique or routine that facilitates the killer (practically) to
commit a murder, for example, using a knife during the crime, restraining the victim with
cable ties, using gloves to avoid fingerprint detection, or only attempting to murder during the
early hours of the morning while it is still dark outside);
tend to return to their crime scenes and/or locations of body disposal;
intensify the degree of violence they impose on their victims over time.
In terms of diagnosis, serial killers do not form part of a specific classification of disorders listed in the Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). However, they do possess pathological personality traits or diagnostic features that may indicate the presence of one or more personality disorders (usually Cluster B), paraphilic disorders, schizophrenia spectrum disorders, psychotic disorders, dissociative disorders, mood disorders, and/or 64 substance-related or addictive disorders (APA, 2013; Gebreth, 1996; Hickey, 1997; Miller,
2000). It should, however, be noted that serial killers who manifest psychotic symptoms are extremely rare (Hickey, 1997). Otherwise known as psychopaths, serial killers are said to mostly exhibit features specific to antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and narcissistic personality disorder (Gebreth, 1996; Hare, 1993; Money, 1990; Schlesinger, 1998).
The official diagnostic criteria for these can be found in Appendix A.
Types of serial killers. In addition to defining serial killers, many authors and forensic professionals have attempted to sort them into different categories based on the way in which they commit a murder. However, the most widely cited classification of serial murder is Ressler,
Burgess, and Douglas’s (1992) organised/disorganised dichotomy model (Canter et al., 2004).
According to Ressler et al. (1992), all serial killers, irrespective of sex, method, or motive are likely to fall into one of these two categories. Organised serial killers generally have an average to high intelligence quotient, are socially competent, function normally in terms of sexual activities, prefer stable, educated labour, and have the ability to control their mood and emotional reactions successfully during the execution of a crime. The term ‘organised’ also indicates a higher order of cognitive thinking (that is, logic and critical thinking). This allows the offender to execute a thoroughly planned murder without leaving any evidence behind (Canter et al., 2004;
Pistorius, 2002; Ressler, Burgess, Douglas, Hartman, & D’ Agostino, 1986). In contrast, disorganised serial killers usually exhibit below-average intelligence or cognitive abilities, have underdeveloped or inadequate social skills, are sexually immature and/or dysfunctional, have a poor employment history, and are reactive and impulsive whilst committing a crime (Canter et al., 2004; Douglas et al., 1992; Pistorius, 2002; Ressler et al., 1992). In terms of the crime scene, the disorganised serial murderer’s is unplanned, disordered, and chaotic. Evidence such as 65 semen, fingerprints, blood, and hair are often left behind. The victim’s body and/or weapon are also commonly displayed in open view (Canter et al., 2004). Although the above two categories seem to be fixed, Ressler and Shachtman (1993) do, however, warn that in some cases, serial killers could also display characteristics of both.
Despite the above-mentioned, the phenomenon of serial murder remains somewhat of a mystery – highly complex and difficult to comprehend fully (Hickley, 1997). Knight (2006) summarised the latter statement as follows:
All of these theories go in some way to contribute to the conceptualisation of serial killers’
behaviours, but in isolation, they maintain a focus on a certain aspect while necessarily
ignoring other aspects. It is for this reason that there is a consensus that what makes a serial
killer is a combination of many complex and interrelated neurological, social, physiological,
environmental, and psychological factors (p. 22).
A Chronological Portrayal of Theodore Robert Bundy’s Lifespan
Infancy and illegitimacy. Theodore Robert Cowell was born on 24 November 1946 in
Burlington, Vermont in the United States of America to 22-year-old Eleanor Louise Cowell
(better known as Louise) (Sullivan, 2009). Being young and unmarried, Louise entered the
Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers in her seventh month of pregnancy to avoid the stigma attached to birthing a child out of wedlock. On the sly, many of the locals referred to the maternity home as “Lizzie Lund’s Home for Naughty Ladies” (Rule, 2013, p. 9). The norms of the 1940s regarded out-of-wedlock pregnancies as disgraceful and taboo, and normally brought shame upon the family name. Abortion was not an option either, as it was against the law
(Dobbert, 2009). According to testimony from Dr. Dorothy Otnow Lewis, a defense psychiatrist and professor at the New York Medical Centre who evaluated Bundy in 1987, Louise left Bundy 66 at the Elizabeth Lund Home “for three months” (Vronsky, 2004, p. 103) while she decided whether she should give him up for adoption (Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009). Even so, Louise reportedly chose to give her son the name ‘Theodore’ as it meant “gift of God” (Wilson, 2004, p.
531) and dotingly referred to him as ‘Teddy’ (Rule, 2009). A few months after his birth, Bundy and Louise moved back to her parent’s home in a working class neighborhood in Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania (Dawson, 2015; Dobbert, 2009). In terms of health, Sullivan (2009), and Michaud and Aynesworth (2000) outlined that Bundy was a normal baby boy who manifested no physical abnormalities or apparent developmental delays.
Embarrassed by their daughter’s insubordinate behaviour, Louise’s parents initially raised
Bundy as their own child, and led him to believe that Louise was, in fact, his older sister
(Dobbert, 2009; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2009). This story was supposedly fashioned to protect Bundy and his biological mother from social reprisal and criticism that civilians often directed at single mothers of the time (Rippo, 2007). To exacerbate matters, the
Cowell’s were thought to be deeply religious Methodists. Thus, having a child who fell pregnant before marriage was not only shocking or scandalous to both them and the community, but was thought of as sinful (Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009; Vronsky, 2004).
In terms of Bundy’s biological father, his identity remains unknown to this day. Rule (2009), however, stated that an Air Force veteran named William Lloyd Marshall is listed on Bundy’s birth certificate as his father, along with the word illegitimate stamped below his name.
Conversely, Louise conveyed that she had a brief romance with a sailor named Jack Worthington whom she claims might have been Bundy’s father (Rule, 2009; Rippo, 2007). Many authors and researchers (for example, Dawson, 2015; Dobbert, 2009; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000;
Newton, 2006; Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009; & Wilson, 2004) have also speculated whether Bundy 67 may have been a product of an incestuous relationship between his mother and grandfather,
Samuel. However, these inferences have never been validated or confirmed.
Apart from being misled about his familial relationships, Bundy observed and endured many domestic disputes that manifested in the Cowell household (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000).
Despite the fact that Bundy’s grandfather was a Deacon at their church, the idea of living a morally righteous life seemed to escape Samuel at home (Rippo, 2007). Family members described him as “an extremely frightening individual” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 330) who could instantaneously become physically violent and aggressive at the slightest of provocations. A good example of his uncontrollable fits of rage dates back to when he reportedly pushed his daughter, Julia, down a flight of stairs for waking up at 9:00 A.M. in the morning, which according to him, was too late (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2009). The family moreover portrayed Samuel as an abusive man who took pleasure in kicking the dog and cruelly spinning the cats by their tails. They also depicted him as a blatant racist, and stated that he regularly engaged with hardcore pornographic material (Newton, 2006; Rule, 2009). Strangely,
Bundy recalled his grandfather as a “mythic figure [that] he adored, identified with, respected, and looked up to as a little boy…and clung to in times of trouble” (Michaud & Aynesworth,
2000, p. 18; Rule, 2001, p. 8). To make matters worse, Bundy’s grandmother, Eleanor, was hospitalised on several occasions due to severe mental health problems. According to interviews, she suffered from depressive psychosis, experienced intense panic attacks, and had a long history of agoraphobia (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000).
Childhood and Family Dynamics. Aside from the unstable and unfavourable environment prompted by his grandparents, Bundy seemed to have a good relationship with his mother, and stated that he ascribed his excellent verbal skills and ability to think on his feet to her. He 68 furthermore told Michaud and Aynesworth (2000) that his mother was an incredibly intelligent and popular woman during high school, and that she excelled in academic-related activities. Yet, he felt that she masked her intellect and that she never fully lived up to her potential.
Unfortunately, Louise was also an intensely private and emotionally distant person. During the taped interviews with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000), Bundy reported that his mother
“certainly had a lot of character, but [by no means] projected it” (p. 19). He furthermore mentioned that she “was not a socializing-type person” that partook in gossip with friends or small talk with the neighbours (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 18). Bundy articulated the above account as follows:
My mother and I…didn’t talk a lot about personal matters. Certainly never about sex or
anything like that. I don’t resent it, but I don’t know why this is. There’s something in her
background that prevents her from opening up…There’s this log-jam of feeling in her that
she doesn’t open up and explain (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 18-19).
Figure 1: Bundy with his mother as a young boy (n.d.). 69
During their stay in Philadelphia, Bundy’s aunt Julia reported that she occasionally witnessed him behaving in strange and troubling manners (Sullivan, 2009). She recounted that when Bundy was approximately three years old, she awoke in the early hours of the morning to find him slipping kitchen knives under her duvet cover and arranging them around her body. She recalled this incident saying, “He just stood there and grinned” (Newton, 2006, p. 30). Upon telling her parents what happened, she claimed that “nobody did anything” and that she was seemingly the only one who thought Bundy’s behaviour to be bizarre (Vronsky, 2004, 107). It was also during this particular time that Bundy and his cousin Bruce would sneak into his grandfather’s greenhouse to view his large collection of pornographic magazines. It is, however, unknown to what degree the pornography was sexually violent and explicit (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 1999; Rule, 2009). Nelson (1994) moreover asserted that even as a young child he would have periods where he would transform into a very different person – from normal, to unusual. In his own words, he explained, “Ted had had episodes where he would seem to turn into another, unrecognizable, person. A great-aunt who had witnessed one such episode suddenly, inexplicably, found herself afraid of her favorite nephew as they waited together at a dusk-darkened train station” (Newton, 1994, p. 154).
In an attempt to escape from their adverse circumstances, Bundy (four-years-old at the time), and Louise moved to Tacoma, Washington to live with her uncle, Jack Cowell. Jack was an accomplished pianist, composer, and music professor at the University of Puget Sound
(Sullivan, 2009). The move away from his ‘parents’, and especially from his treasured ‘father’
Sam, caused Bundy a great deal of distress and grief. However, he found support and comfort in his great uncle Jack, and viewed him as a role model - someone after whom he could pattern his life upon. Jack was “a refined gentleman…who exuded a great sense of accomplishment and 70
[had] an aura of extreme wealth”, and Bundy made it no secret that he wanted to be exactly like him (Rippo, 2007, p. 49). During this time, Bundy also referred to Louis as both his mother, and his sister – but only to his friends (Rippo, 2007).
Figure 2: Bundy playing in the snow outside his family home (1950).
In an odd turn off events, Louis decided to change Bundy’s surname from Cowell to Nelson.
Louis later admitted that, “...she didn’t want her young son subjected to ridicule because he shared the same last name as his great-uncle and his mother” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 48). She felt that
Theodore Robert Nelson was a conventional, commonplace surname that would not attract any unnecessary attention, and as a result, would give Bundy adequate anonymity when needed. Rule
(2013) mentioned that Louise “never wanted him to hear the word bastard” (p. 9). Furthermore,
Bundy claimed that although his time living with his uncle was not a nightmare, life was not as 71 terrific as it was for him in Philadelphia. The confusion initiated by his separation from his parents made him feel as if he was living a constant lie (Rippo, 2007; Sullivan, 2009).
After a while, Louise seemed to find her feet, and located a job as a secretary at the Council of Churches office. It is here where she met John Culpepper Bundy (better known as Johnnie) - a
Navy cook who worked at the Veterans Administration Hospital near Tacoma (Dobbert, 2009).
Kendall (1981) indicated that Bundy exhibited noticeable feelings of frustration and anger when his ‘sister’ married Johnnie on May 19, 1951, as he reportedly forcefully “stuck his hand into the wedding cake” at their wedding reception (p. 24). Before he turned five, Johnnie adopted young
Bundy as his own, officially changing his surname for the second time to Theodore Robert
Bundy. This would remain his surname for the rest of his life (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000).
The newly formed family lived a nomadic life until they finally settled down and bought a house on Skyline Drive, Narrows Bridge, Tacoma, when Bundy was approximately seven years old
(Rule, 2009; Sullivan, 2009). Once his mother got married, Bundy’s life changed drastically, as he went from being an only child, to the eldest of four stepsiblings. Linda was the first to be born of their marital union in 1952, followed closely by Glenn (1954) and Sandra (1956), and later,
Richard (1961) (Sullivan, 2009). Years later, Bundy would admit that although he loved and cared for everyone in his family, he shared a special connection with his mother and Richard.
Being 15 years Richard’s senior, Bundy reported that he felt an almost paternal connection to his youngest brother (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). In an interview scheduled a day before his execution, Bundy described his family saying:
I grew up in a wonderful home with two dedicated and loving parents, as one of five
brothers and sisters. We, as children, were the focus of my parents’ lives. We regularly
attended church. My parents did not smoke or gamble. There was no physical abuse or 72
fighting in the home. I am not saying it was Leave it to Beaver, but it was a fine, solid
Christian home (Bundy, television interview, January 23, 1989).
Although Bundy’s explanation of his family sounded like the ideal family situation, he failed to mention his adamant rejection of his newly established connection to Johnnie Bundy.
Even though he assumed his stepfather’s surname, he never ceased to identify himself as a
Cowell (Rule, 2013). Despite his stepfather’s best attempts to integrate him into the newly formed family, Bundy rebuffed such efforts from every angle; he would rather spend time alone, than spend time with Johnnie (Dobbert, 2009). As an adult, Bundy revealed that this “early habit of isolation no doubt contributed to his later inability to integrate himself socially” (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2000, p. 22). Johnnie’s presence in his life made Bundy feel uneasy and upset.
Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) conveyed that Bundy saw his stepfather as an interloper – an intruder that wanted to steal his mother away from him. Furthermore, he supposedly viewed
Johnnie as intellectually slow and feeble-minded man. This was partially due to his Southern drawl when speaking (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
According to Terry Storwick, Bundy’s closest childhood friend, Bundy and Johnnie would frequently become involved in intense verbal altercations. Bundy’s verbal assaults often led
Johnnie to grow physical with him. However, in Storwick’s opinion, “Johnnie wasn’t an unreasonable man…his temper was a reaction to Ted’s animosity towards him” (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 1999, p. 63). Apparently, Johnnie oversaw the role of disciplinarian in the home and believed in using corporal punishment to control his children. Louise would often have to act as the intermediary between Bundy and Johnnie to refrain them from taking their arguments too far. Bundy stated that he would regularly provoke Johnnie by turning Louise against him 73
(Sullivan, 2009). When Michaud and Aynesworth (2000) asked Bundy whether his mother or father had a greater influence on him as a child, Bundy responded:
There is no question that I was more influenced by my mom than by my dad. Because, my
dad injected himself even less into the psychological [and] intellectual development of his
children. Mom sort of ran the roost in many respects, although he was acknowledged as the
head of the family” (p. 19-20).
Figure 3: Bundy (on the right) posing for a photograph with his mother and stepsiblings (1965).
Mrs. Oyster, Bundy’s first-grade teacher, was the first person to witness his behavior outside of his home environment. Louise asserted that her ‘Teddy’ adored Mrs. Oyster who described him as an intelligent boy, who was at ease in front of his classmates, and had the ability to express himself verbally well beyond his years (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Unfortunately, a substitute teacher, Miss Gerri, replaced Mrs. Oyster when she left for maternity leave. Her absence reportedly unnerved Bundy to such an extent that he became quiet, shy, and 74 uncomfortable in class. It was also around this time that he started to stutter when he became anxious, and exhibited compulsive behaviours such as nail biting and nose picking (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 1999). Bundy seemed to loathe Miss Gerri, and described her as “a doctrinaire
Catholic…with the shape and menacing attitude of a cannon ball about ready to explode”
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 58). As a Protestant, Bundy felt that she discriminated against him, and actively recounted how she broke a ruler over his hand after he hit another child in the nose during a playground brawl. Schechter (2003) recalled that, “despite [his] intelligence and superior grades, [Bundy’s] recurrent temper tantrums were violent enough to worry teachers” (p.
161). Storwick and Warren Dodge – another of Bundy’s close friends – corroborated Schechter’s statement by revealing that they witnessed Bundy’s temper flare up on a number of occasions during school, and outside settings such as at Boy Scouts (Rule, 2013). Storwick described
Bundy’s fits of rage as follows:
It was real easy to see when Ted got mad. His eyes turned just about black. I suppose that
sounds like something out of a cheap novel, but you could see it. He had blue eyes that were
kind of flecked with darker colours. When he got hot, they seemed to get less blue with
darker colours. It didn’t have to be a physical affront, either. Someone would say something,
and you could just see it in his face. The dark flecks seemed to expand (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 1999, p. 55).
Storwick and Warren moreover recalled several instances at Boy Scouts where Bundy’s short fuse overwhelmed his ability to remain poised. For example, Bundy propelled a ceramic plate at another scout’s face for hacking at a small tree with an axe. On a different occasion, he also struck a fellow scout, John Moon, over the head with a weighty branch after a meaningless, run- of-the-mill argument (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). Storwick recounted the event as “a very 75 deliberate attack on another person. The way John described it, he was attacked from behind”
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 60).
Pre-adolescence: Junior high school. Despite his obscure nature, Bundy was well received by most at Hunt Junior High School. He presented with above-average academic skills, showed talent on the track field, and was an active member in Boy Scouts as well as in the Methodist
Youth Fellowship of his community congregation (Dobbert, 2009). However, Egger (2003) claimed that teachers found it very difficult to discipline Bundy effectively. They stated that
“when things went wrong, he would blame an authority figure or the system…he felt that he was beyond reproach” (p. 143). In terms of sport, Bundy conveyed that he always felt too small, and that he did not have the desirable weight or physique to participate in such extracurricular activities. In actuality, this was not true, but he never seemed to push himself either (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). During his interview with Michaud and Aynesworth in 1980, Bundy recalled that his stepfather had no interest in coming to the football games that he did happen to play. Moreover, his mother would not support him, as it cost too much money. He summarised his experience as “never having that parental stamp of approval” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 22). He went on to explain that when he failed to make the school’s basketball and baseball teams, he felt terribly traumatised. In his own words, he stated that, “I just didn’t know what to do. I thought it was something personal. I always thought I should do better. It was a source of some agony” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 22-23).
McClellan (2006), Rule (2013), and Sullivan (2009) reported that there were also many rumours attached to Bundy’s pre-adolescent years. During school, Bundy allegedly refused to shower in the presence of the other boys, and was teased and bullied mercilessly because of it
(McClellan, 2006; Rule, 2013). He apparently also masturbated in the broom closet of his 76 classroom on several occasions. During such incidences, some of Bundy’s classmates would throw open the closet door and drench him in ice-cold water, after which they would tease him relentlessly (Sullivan, 2009). When asked about these occurrences, Bundy vehemently denied any of it ever happening.
At home, Bundy encountered a severe sense of deprivation. Bundy stated he felt “ashamed of his family’s lower class status” (Rippo, 2007, p. 50) and experienced humiliation whenever someone would see him in his father’s dilapidated Rambler automobile (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rippo, 2007). Likewise, Bundy made it very apparent that he hated the house and neighbourhood that his family lived in. He declared that he was embarrassed to bring friends over because he had to sleep in the basement where the renovations were never completed
(Kendall, 1981; Rippo, 2007). Louise reportedly confirmed Bundy’s attitude towards their working class livelihood by stating that “Teddy was deeply materialistic…he wanted possessions” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 59). Ironically, Bundy’s school friends asserted that he acted as if he was more mature and superior than the rest of his class. Buss (2005) encapsulated his behaviour by stating that, “[Bundy] now found himself in the very position and situation that appalled him, while obsessed with avoiding and covering up” (p. 222).
During this time, Bundy also became increasingly isolated and often found solace in his bedroom listening to late night radio talk shows. He later indicated to Dobbert (2009) that he found listening to others’ conversation comforting, and that after a while, it became pleasurable and sexually arousing to him. Apparently, sex was on Bundy’s mind from a young age, as he called his fourth-grade teacher a “voluptuous disciplinarian” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 50) and rummaged through the neigbourhood’s trash bins in search of pictures of naked women and detective magazines (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rippo, 2007). 77
Figure 4: Bundy (right) and Storwick (left) at Boy Scouts (1954). Another friend, Doug Holt, is pictured in the center. Adolescence: Senior high school. By the time Bundy was a senior at Woodrow Wilson
High School in 1960, he felt stunted in terms of his social and emotional development (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2000). He expressed that he found it increasingly difficult to make new friends, and struggled to adapt to the normal changes usually encountered during adolescence (Sullivan,
2009). He moreover stated that he constantly felt left behind and out of place amongst his friends, as they “…moved into broader spheres of life and he didn’t” (Michaud & Aynesworth,
2000, p. 23). During Bundy’s interview with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000), he briefly explained this conflicting phase in his life:
It was not so much that there were significant events (in my boyhood), but the lack of things
that took place that was significant. The omission of important developments. I felt that I
had developed intellectually, but not socially. In junior high, everything was fine…I had no
problem learning the appropriate social behaviors…But I got to high school and I didn’t
make any progress…at some point my emotional growth just stopped…I felt lost (p. 23). 78
In terms of interpersonal relationships, McClellan (2006) and Rule (2013) reported that
Bundy kept his social circles small, and did not entertain the idea of building any intimate or close relationships. Those that attended school with him characterised Bundy as athletic, good- looking, well mannered, and academic, yet introverted. Although girls found his piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and relatively athletic frame attractive, Bundy maintained that he could not tell when a girl was interested in him, and that he never saw himself as physically appealing
(McClellan, 2006; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). To compensate for his lack of social skills,
Bundy reportedly pretended to be a serious scholar that regarded himself as ‘above’ attending frivolous teenage parties and drinking alcohol. He articulated his insecurities to Michaud and
Aynesworth (2000):
To some degree, [it] was my way of defending myself against something I didn’t want to
admit I desired to be a part of…I used [those excuses] to compensate for my outright fear of
socialization…it was a way to protect myself because I couldn’t achieve those kinds of
social goals that I wanted (p. 24).
Due to the above-mentioned, Bundy reasoned that he thrived in formal situations such as the classroom, as his performance was measurable, and the rules were strict and transparent - unlike in social settings. Here, he could flaunt his intellectual abilities without having to mimic appropriate social practices (Schechter, 2003). Berry-Dee (2003), an investigative criminologist, explained Bundy’s success in class by stating that those who display early signs of anti-social personality disorder often show “…improved behaviour in structured settings” (p. 40).
For the most part, Bundy’s domiciliary circumstances remained unchanged from his earlier years. While Louis and Johnnie were both hard-working individuals, Bundy became progressively more ashamed and self-conscious of their lower class status, and thought of his 79 parents as being “very frugal” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 21). Storwick claimed that
Bundy also felt incredibly envious towards any of his peers who displayed financial wealth
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rippo, 2007). To rectify his monetary constraints, Bundy started to deliver newspapers in his neighbourhood, and earned additional money mowing lawns with three other boys (Sullivan, 2009). Not feeling exceptionally satisfied with performing manual labour, Bundy resorted to petty theft as an alternative method of material gain. Bundy and a group of friends also constructed a ‘forgery ring’ where they would counterfeit their own tickets to go ski on the slopes without charge over the weekends (Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009).
By the age of 15, Bundy was an adept shoplifter and a fervent Peeping Tom. Rippo (2007) indicated that although Bundy was faring very well at school, he frequently snuck out of his home after dark to masturbate while watching women undress. Bundy later revealed that his late- night escapades aggravated his sexual fantasies, and led him to seek literature that “discussed violent sexual activity and death” (Dobbert, 2009, p. 107). As a teenager, police officers arrested
Bundy on more than two occasions for larceny and grand theft auto. However, the details of these crimes are still unclear, as juvenile caseworkers are, by law, sanctioned to destroy the criminal records of minors once they turn 18 (Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). Ironically, Bundy intended to pursue a career in law enforcement once he graduated from high school (Rippo,
2007). It was also during this time that Ann Marie Burr, an eight-year-old girl, vanished inexplicably from Bundy’s neighbourhood. Although he adamantly denied any knowledge or responsibility for her abduction, the FBI still considers Bundy as a prime suspect in Ann’s disappearance. Interestingly, Ann Rule, one of Bundy’s former friends, and author of the book
‘The Stranger Beside Me’ “…revealed that she once received an email from a women ‘hinting 80 that Ted, a ninth grader, had taken her…a young teenager to see where he had hidden’ [a girl’s] body’” (Rule, 2001, 547).
Figure 5: Bundy pictured in his high school’s yearbook – Class of 1965.
Many authors also regarded Bundy’s adolescent years as the period when he first learned of his illegitimacy. Although conflicting accounts exist regarding how and when Bundy discovered that his sister was, in fact, his mother, Storwick recalled that they were in high school when
Bundy first mentioned his illegitimacy to him (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). When Bundy revealed that Johnnie was not his biological father, he apparently seemed bitter and deeply hurt.
Storwick went on to tell Michaud and Aynesworth (1999) that, “this [matter] was important to
[Bundy]…When I tried to make light of the situation, he said, ‘Well, it’s not you that’s a bastard’” (p. 63). After discovering the truth about his illegitimacy, Bundy’s attitude towards
Johnnie changed for the worse, and their relationship disintegrated even further. Bundy displayed 81 his defiance towards his stepfather through suddenly refusing to call him ‘Dad’ after doing so for years. After a while, ‘Dad’ became ‘Father’, and finally, ‘John’ (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
Early adulthood: Acquiring independence in a new environment. In 1965, Bundy graduated from high school and enrolled at the University of Puget Sound (UPS). However, he initially failed to declare a major (Sullivan, 2009). With five children to support, Louise and
Johnnie could not afford to put Bundy through university as well. Thus, during his first year of studies, Bundy continued to live with his parents while trying to earn additional money to pay for his tuition fees. He did this by bouncing from one menial, dead-end job to the next, working as a shop assistant, shoe clerk, restaurant bus boy, and sales representative in a department store, respectively (Dawson, 2015; Rule, 2009). Dawson (2015) reported that Bundy’s employers described him as unreliable, since he failed to show up for his shifts on numerous occasions, and never gave notice before quitting either; he just left. In her interview with Michaud and
Aynesworth (1999), Louise conveyed that although Bundy succeeded academically in his freshman year, “he never got into the social life of the school at all. He’d come home, sleep, study, sleep, and go back to school” (p. 61). Likewise, Bundy recounted that he felt isolated and lonely at UPS, and did not make any new friends. Furthermore, he rejected the idea of joining a fraternity house, as the other students seemed wealthy and self-assured. This exacerbated
Bundy’s feelings of financial inadequacy and low self-image (Dawson, 2015). Bundy detailed this period in his life to Michaud and Aynesworth (1999):
My social life was a big zero. I spent a great deal of time with myself. It was a lonely year
for me, and it was worse because I didn’t have my old neighborhood buddies around. I
didn’t feel socially adept enough. I didn’t feel I knew how to function with those people. I
felt terribly uncomfortable…I didn’t know what made things tick. I didn’t know what made 82
people attractive to one another. I didn’t know what underlay social interactions (p. 61 &
66).
Bundy buys a Bug. The purchase of a second-hand 1958 model Volkswagen (VW) Beetle reportedly gave Bundy a new sense of independence and freedom in his otherwise ‘socially inhibited’ life. He later expressed his fondness of VW’s when he bought a second Beetle – a light brown/tan 1968 model – which gave him the option to escape the social stressors of college with his border collie, Lassie, whenever he felt the need arise (McGivern, 2015; Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). VW Beetles clearly became Bundy’s vehicle of choice. Wilson (2005) asserted that in the 1960s and 1970s, VW Beetles were symbolic of the Hippie Movement, and represented peace and love. Ironically, Bundy’s Beetle became a mechanism of destruction, as he would use his ‘Bug’ to lure and kidnap young, female students. His VW later also implicated him in his own crimes (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
Figure 6: Bundy proudly posing with his Volkswagen Beetle (n.d.). 83
Chinese. While attending a lecture at UPS discussing international affairs and the Orient,
Bundy developed an instantaneous passion for the Chinese language (Dobbert, 2009). Bundy regarded Mandarin as a window of opportunity where he could stand out above the rest of his peers - a chance for others to take notice of him. Sullivan (2009) reported that Bundy’s brief encounter with Chinese linguistics created a desire in him to “…one day work for the State
Department in an academic position, such as in trade on Mainland China…he wanted to gain a position of authority to improve the relationship between the United States and China” (p. 53-
54). As a result, he applied as a transfer student to the University of Washington (UW) in the fall of 1967 to become involved in a program that offered studies focusing on Chinese history and language (Sullivan, 2009). Bundy told Michaud and Aynesworth (1999) that he viewed the
Chinese language as “exotic, glamorous, a bright cloak in which to wrap himself” (p. 67).
Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) speculated that it was during this particular phase in Bundy’s life, that he started to fabricate a mask; a public persona that convinced those around him that he was charming, intelligent, witty, and attractive. It was as if he developed an aura of assertiveness and self-confidence overnight. It was also in this period that Bundy met and developed an intimate relationship with fellow student Stephanie Brooks (pseudonym) – the so-called girl of his dreams (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
Love at first sight. As best he knew how, Bundy felt the need to bond and build a ‘normal’ relationship with a female after his relocation to the University of Washington (Sullivan, 2009).
He later told a psychologist that he “had a longing for a beautiful coed [but] didn’t have the skill or social acumen to cope with it” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 52). However, when Bundy met Brooks, it was love at first sight; she was everything he ever wanted in a woman. Brooks came from an affluent Californian family, and was beautiful, smart, and sophisticated. She was a driven young 84 woman who knew exactly what she wanted out of life (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Bundy felt particularly pleased when he and Brooks became a couple. He was especially proud of the fact that he now had a girlfriend “who’d been raised in an atmosphere where money and prestige were taken for granted” (Rule, 2001, p. 13). His friends were equally intrigued that Bundy was dating someone of such high stature, and recalled that “he showed her off like a possession”
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012, p. 68). Louise confirmed that Brooks was a friendly, pleasant girl, but stated that she felt uneasy about how intensely serious Ted was about her. In his prison interviews with Dr. Paul Dawson (2015), Bundy spoke of how desperate he was to impress
Brooks. He stated that he would often exaggerate his accomplishments, and would lie to make himself seem more successful than he actually was.
In the summer of 1967, Bundy transferred to Stanford University in an attempt to demonstrate his commitment to Brooks. Here, he would continue to study Chinese, whilst being closer to her in her home town of San Francisco. However, Bundy struggled to adapt emotionally to the move away from home, and subsequently started to flounder academically (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; & Sullivan, 2009). With Bundy’s immaturity and academic failure now exposed, Brooks terminated their relationship after her graduation in 1968. She reasoned that although his boyish charm initially appealed to her, his lack of overall maturity, drive, and motivation for a prosperous future, eventually led her to end the relationship (Dawson, 2015;
Rule, 2013). She also had a “niggling suspicion” that Bundy used people to get what he wanted
(Rippo, 2007, p. 53). Bundy shared this experience with Dawson (2015):
[Brooks] pointed out that I was immature, had no future, and was not husband material for
her. She dumped me, broke my heart and I was obsessed, or haunted by her for years…I was 85
very depressed over Stephanie rejecting me. It just confirmed all those old tapes, those old
echoes in my mind that I didn’t fit in. I was less than and not part of the in-crowd… (p. 128).
Bundy’s brother, Glenn, corroborated Bundy’s reaction after his split from Brooks by stating that, “[Stephanie] screwed him up for a while. He came home and seemed pretty upset and moody. I’d never seen him like that before. He was always in charge of his emotions” (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 1999, p. 69). Devastated and shocked by their break-up, Bundy returned to the
University of Washington and withdrew from the Chinese program altogether. Instead, he decided to pursue a career in architecture, and enrolled for a course in urban planning. He apparently chose this field of study because Brooks once mentioned to him that she admired
Albert Finney’s role as an architect in the 1967 film Two for the Road (Michaud & Aynesworth,
2012). He moreover landed a job parking cars at a local yacht club to fund his studies (Sullivan,
2009). It was here, at the yacht club, that Bundy experienced his first sexual encounter.
According to Michaud and Aynesworth (2012), Bundy had sex for the first time with a 60-year- old widow named Beatrice Sloan, who worked at the club’s bar. Apparently, he was completely passive during the act wherein the woman assumed the dominant role. Unfortunately, Bundy failed to attend any of his scheduled architecture lectures, and did not write any of his examinations either. He finally dropped out of college completely in early 1968 (Tanay, 2013).
Mentally, Bundy started to unravel. He needed to alleviate the emotional tension that was causing him to experience an internal meltdown. He decided to get away from Washington for a while, and travelled to Denver, Philadelphia, and Arkansas to visit with family members
(McClellan, 2006; Sullivan, 2009).
Ted did not understand what had happened to him, why the mask he had been using had
failed him. This first tentative foray into the sophisticated world had ended in disaster. It 86
would usher in another period of isolation in which he would brood on his situation, keeping
to himself until a better, more workable mask could be fashioned (Michaud & Aynesworth,
1999, p. 69).
Figure 7: Bundy and Stephanie Brooks (1973). Brooks’ eyes are covered to protect her identity.
Adulthood: A volatile period. In an attempt to reestablish his life, Bundy returned to Seattle in April of 1968 after a three-month ‘therapeutic getaway’ (Sullivan, 2009). On his return to
Washington State, Bundy once again found a low-grade day job at a local Safeway store, while also working as a kitchen helper at the Olympia Hotel by night. However, his employment at the hotel was short-lived, as allegations started to surface that Bundy was stealing. Although personnel never officially fired or laid charges against him, Bundy quit after only a month (Sullivan, 2009).
Shortly after his resignation, Bundy started to involve himself in criminal activities such as burglary and theft. He befriended a thief and drug user called Richard, who supposedly aided him in developing his criminal skills, especially in the realm of shoplifting. According to Michaud and 87
Aynesworth (2012), Bundy did not necessarily steal with the intention of obtaining extra money – he hardly ever sold any of his ‘acquisitions’. Instead, they reported that Bundy’s thieving behaviour was motivated by his need to accumulate possessions, and purely for the thrill of it. The reasoning behind Bundy’s motives for stealing would later echo in his interviews when he spoke about why he killed. Before embarking on his shoplifting escapades, Bundy would often drink alcohol and smoke cannabis to relax his inhibitions. He stated that it calmed him down in times of distress, and sedated any sense of anxiety or nervousness that he experienced before committing an illegal act (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2013). In his own words, Bundy explained his use of, specifically, alcohol: “Every time I wanted to get something just to pump myself up a little,
I’d drink a few beers, ‘cause I felt I wouldn’t have any inhibitions… [Before stealing] I wasn’t nervous – and that’s important” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 38).
Bundy soon realised that he had become quite the skilled larcenist, and that he remained largely undetected. He moreover learned that he could alter his physical appearance easily, since he lacked defining facial features – he did not even have to use a disguise (see Figure 1). He could simply grow a mustache or beard, comb his hair differently, or gain or lose weight, and his appearance would change dramatically. During his murder trials, a judge even commented that
Bundy had “the face of a changeling...a chameleon” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 73). He saw his anonymity as a primary trait for evading capture. Unfortunately, he would also use this quality of anonymity to commit much more heinous crimes in the future (Rule, 2013). As luck would have it, Bundy unexpectedly crossed paths with an old high school acquaintance that offered him the opportunity to get involved in politics. Bundy did not think twice about it, and immediately accepted the proposal (Sullivan, 2009).
88
Figure 8: The many faces of Theodore Robert Bundy.
Political dealings. During the summer of 1968, Bundy started working for Art Fletcher, a city council member pursuing the Republican nomination for lieutenant governor of Washington
State (Sullivan, 2009). He embraced the opportunity to volunteer for Fletcher’s campaign, as he saw politics as a possible avenue for him to gain a higher social status and financial success – something he had always desired. From a young age, Bundy exhibited a keen interest in politics, and had worked as a volunteer during a local political race during his final year of high school
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). In his interview with Michaud and Aynesworth (2012), he recalled the pleasure that he derived from the political field, as it gave his otherwise isolated life, meaning:
Politics gave me the opportunity to be close to people. To be socially involved with
them…as a consequence of working with them. You get very close. You drink each night – 89
and people sleep with each other. It’s a sort of built in social life. Which I never had…The
reason I loved politics was because here was something that allowed me to use my talents
and assertiveness. You were accepted...So politics was perfect (p. 25 & 65).
Bundy additionally became active in state and national politics including the presidential campaign of Nelson Rockefeller (Dobbert, 2009). His excellent communication skills and articulate and polished demeanor earned him great respect among his fellow coworkers. With unflinching diligence (which was unusual considering his employment history), Bundy progressed from being a volunteer political activist to working on a professional level for the
Washington State Republican Party (Dobbert, 2009). From an outsiders’ perspective, it seemed as if Bundy had a bright future ahead of him. Yet, it was also throughout this period that Bundy developed an unhealthy taste for sadistic forms of pornography – especially when it comprised of the forceful and violent sexual domination of a female by a male (Dobbert, 2009; Sullivan,
2009). According to Sullivan (2009), his voyeuristic nighttime activities had also escalated at this time, and served as a catalyst for his ensuing murders.
A transitional period. The years 1969 through to 1974 proved to be prosperous years for
Bundy (Dawson, 2015). By the age of 22, he had matured into a sophisticated young man with a promising future ahead of him – the type of man that Brooks had sought upon ending her relationship with Bundy the year before. Nothing in Bundy’s behaviour seemed defective or troublesome. In fact, Bundy’s charismatic and charming nature made him exceedingly likeable amongst his fellow campaigners and even more popular in the political arena (Dawson, 2015;
Rule, 2013). Bundy seemed to turn his life around. Over the next four years, he graduated with a degree in Psychology, entered into law school, held a steady, long-term relationship, and filled important positions in various politically orientated professions (Dawson, 2015). Moreover, the 90
Seattle Police Department considered Bundy a local hero for apprehending a thief and saving a three-year-old boy from drowning in Green Lake (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009).
It was also during the course of his ‘reinvented life’ that Bundy decided that he needed to establish and come to terms with the truth surrounding his parentage (biologically speaking).
After traveling to Vermont and searching through boxes full of his parent’s documents, Bundy’s birth certificate finally confirmed his suspicions. Louise was, in fact, his mother, and his
‘parents’ were actually his grandparents (Rule, 2013). He explained to Michaud and Aynesworth
(2012) that the discovery regarding the identities of his family members was not painful. He stated that his mom loved him enough to birth him, and care for him, and that that was sufficient for him. Instead, he saw it as an opportunity to decide whom he wanted to be in life, although he never revealed what that decision was. Bundy’s former fiancée, Elizabeth Kendall (pseudonym) however, was skeptical of Bundy’s version of events, since she reported the discovery somewhat differently (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). According to Kendall, his mother’s dishonesty infuriated Bundy; he felt that she caused him immense humiliation (Michaud & Aynesworth,
1999). Bundy would later admit, in somewhat veiled terms, that it was after this shocking revelation that he began to act out his fantasies of violent sex and murder (Sullivan, 2009).
Rule (2009) described Bundy’s life as being a dichotomy; he played the role of a hero, but was also the villain. She explained that, “Ted Bundy took lives, [but] he also saved lives” (p. 28).
According to Dawson (2015), Bundy wore a socially acceptable mask between 1969 and 1974.
When asked whether he tried to ‘reinvent’ himself during this particular period in time, Bundy answered that, “[he’d] substituted a false bravado – a fake it ‘til you make it approach” (Dawson,
2015, p. 128). While Bundy appeared to be successful, confident, and stable to those around 91 him, Keppel and Birnes (2005) mentioned that some people reportedly found Bundy’s abnormally intense use of eye contact and extended stare a bit strange.
Elizabeth Kendall. In the late summer of 1969, Bundy returned to Seattle, and settled down in a boarding room in Ernst and Frieda Rogers’ house in the University District. The Rogers’s home was one of several rooming houses where single students could find inexpensive accommodation close to the university. Here, he met and dated Kendall, the daughter of a prominent Utah doctor, and a secretary at the University of Washington, for approximately six years (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012, Rule, 2009). Kendall and her three-year-old daughter,
Liane, had recently relocated to Seattle after she finalised her divorce from her former husband, a convicted felon. Rule (2009) described Kendall as, “a diminutive woman with long brown hair – not pretty, but with a winsomeness that made her seem years younger than she was…she was very small, very vulnerable” (p. 28). In Kendall’s (1981) book, ‘The Phantom Prince: My life with Ted Bundy’, she conveyed that she and Bundy had met in a college bar called the
‘Sandpiper Tavern’ on 30 September 1969. She wrote that she knew that Bundy “was a cut above the rest of the crowd” (p. 10) before they had even had a chance to dance. She believed that he was her “prince” (Kendall, 1981, p. 12). Soon after, Bundy and Kendall officially entered into a relationship that would endure many obstacles in the years to come.
While Bundy and Kendall seemed like the perfect couple, Bundy’s dishonesty and unfaithfulness reportedly exacerbated Kendall’s jealous streak, and made her feel very insecure in their relationship (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). However, Kendall chose to overlook their issues because she thought of Bundy as a tender and loving man who had the ability to succeed in life, and took the role of a father figure seriously (Kendall, 1981). Although they had planned to get married on several occasions, Bundy did not want to commit, as it would apparently 92 deprive him from his freedom of choice. During one of their many explosive arguments, Bundy even ripped up the marriage license before they had the opportunity to sign the document
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Sullivan, 2009). Kendall added fuel to the fire when she fell pregnant with Bundy’s child in 1972, and terminated the pregnancy without his knowledge.
While he later claimed to have supported her decision, Kendall maintained that Bundy was livid when he found out (Kendall, 1981). Over the years, their relationship seemed to become increasingly bizarre. Kendall later told detectives that Bundy’s sexual drive had diminished to almost nothing by 1974, but that he blamed it on pressure at work. He also repeatedly comforted her suspicions by emphasising that he was not involved with any other woman but her (Rule,
2013). She moreover stated that in the year before Ted had ‘lost’ his sex drive (that is, 1973); his sexual interests had suddenly changed. Kendall explained to Rule (2009):
He got this book, this Joy of Sex book…He read about anal intercourse, and he insisted on
trying it [with me]. I didn’t like it, but went along with him. Then there was something in
that book about bondage. He went right to the drawer where I kept my nylons. Sometimes,
after I was asleep at night, I’d wake up and find him under the covers…looking at my
[naked] body with a flashlight (p. 190).
Kendall furthermore recalled that she allowed Bundy to tie her to the four bedposts with her nylon stockings before having sex. She described it as a distasteful experience, but agreed to carry out Bundy’s sexual fantasies on two more occasions. However, during the third occasion, she reported that Bundy started to choke her, and she had panicked. She indicated that she refused to consent to such behaviour ever again, but that Bundy was unhappy with her decision
(Rule, 2009). 93
Beside Bundy’s abrupt change in sexual behaviour, Kendall pointed out that Ted constantly lied to her while they were together. She was also aware that he frequently stole things (Rule,
2013). Before Bundy was arrested, Kendall reportedly found some unusual items in his car.
These included a meat cleaver, oriental knife, ski mask, crutches, and a pair of pantyhose with cutouts for eyes. When she asked Bundy about them, he responded belligerently, and told her that “if [she] ever told anyone about it, [he’d] break [her] fucking neck” (Kendall, 1981, p. 65).
As an afterthought, Bundy told her that the crutches were for his proprietor (Rule, 2009). On one particular event, Kendall saw plaster of Paris in his boarding room. When she confronted him about it, he admitted to stealing it from a medical supply center that he was currently working at.
She additionally found a paper bag full of women’s clothes and underwear in his room, but never questioned him about it out of fear that he would verbally assault her, and accuse her of prying in his personal affairs (Rule, 2009). Sullivan (2009) succinctly summarised that, “it would not be a normal relationship. [Bundy] would not only secretly date other women at various times, but he would also be transforming into the efficient killer we have all come to know” (p. 58).
Figure 9: Bundy and his former fiancée, Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Kendall (1972). 94
One such ‘mistress’ was Claire Frost, a slightly built, dark-haired woman who temporarily
(and unknowingly) caused a rift between Bundy and Kendall during the summer of 1972 (Rule,
2013). In an interview following Bundy’s first arrest, Frost conveyed to detectives that “[Bundy] didn’t feel that he fit in with my…my ‘class’. I guess that’s the only way to describe it. He wouldn’t come to my parent’s home because he said he just didn’t fit in” (Rule, 2013, p. 202).
She moreover substantiated Kendall’s accounts of Bundy’s sudden bizarre sexual interests and rapidly changing demeanor through the following statement to detective Kathleen McChesney:
We went on a picnic in April on the Humptulips River, and I had quite a lot of wine. I was
dizzy, and he kept dunking my head under [the water]. He was trying to untie the top of my
bikini. He couldn’t manage it, and he suddenly pulled my bikini bottom off and had
intercourse with me. He didn’t say anything, and he had his forearm pressed under my chin
so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I kept telling him I couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t let up the
pressure until he was finished. There was no affection at all. Afterward, it was as if it never
happened. He drove me home, and he was nice again…I just couldn’t understand the way he
kept changing. One minute he was nice, and the next he acted like he hated me (Rule, 2013,
p. 202-204).
Psychology. In June of 1970, Bundy re-enrolled at the University of Washington as a psychology major (Dawson, 2015; Rule, 2009). While completing his studies, he volunteered at
Seattle’s Crisis Clinic where he worked as a counsellor operating their suicide hotline. Ironically, many of Bundy’s co-workers reported that he saved several lives during his late night shifts, and came across as someone who shared a deep, empathic connection with his callers (Dawson,
2015). 95
During his time at the crisis clinic, Bundy befriended a fellow volunteer named Ann Rule.
Rule wrote an all-inclusive book documenting her personal encounters with Bundy called ‘The
Stranger beside Me’, which she released after his stay of execution. Bundy reportedly read the book while he resided at Florida State Prison (FSP), but only commented that Rule’s portrayal of him was inaccurate, and that she could not possibly understand the mind of a serial killer as well as he could (Rule, 2009). However, Rule recalled that she was very fond of Bundy and that he always made her feel safe and protected when they worked the late-night shift together. She also expressed that Bundy showed her a great amount of support and kindness during challenging periods in her life (Rule, 2009). In 1972, Bundy graduated his degree in psychology ‘with distinction’, and began working as a counsellor at a psychiatric outpatient clinic at Harborview
Hospital (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Tanay, 2013). Regrettably, Bundy did not receive the same praise at Harborview as he did at the crisis clinic. A staff member working alongside
Bundy argued that he was “not capable of being emotionally responsive to the needs of his clients and patients” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 64). It was also rumoured that he had been involved in a brief sexual relationship with one of his co-workers (Sullivan, 2009).
Law. Albeit for his love of Psychology, Bundy ventured back into the realms of politics shortly after he graduated from Washington University. Bundy joined a reelection campaign where he served as Governor Dan Evans’ right-hand and self-professed ‘spy’. He would supposedly record the opposition’s conversations and report them to Evans. Michaud and
Aynesworth (1999) recounted that Bundy was so engrossed by his role as a spy that he took up acting classes to learn how to apply costume makeup, and to acquire skills in the art of using disguises. Kendall (1981) stated that he even bought a fake mustache that he would sometimes wear around the house. Once the reelection was over, Bundy secured a position at the Seattle 96
Crime Prevention Advisory Commission (CPAC) where he acted as assistant director, and facilitated the police in launching a pilot study on rape prevention (McClellan, 2006). In contrast to his forthcoming murderous behaviour, Sullivan (2009) asserted that, “Bundy had a particular interest in how attacks were committed, the ratio of arrests to convictions, and how the numerous police and sheriff’s departments worked together to solve violent crimes” (p. 68-69).
By 1973, Bundy again felt the need to improve himself, and subsequently submitted an application to gain entrance into the University of Utah’s law program (Sullivan, 2009). Despite obtaining below-average scores on his Law School Aptitude Test, Bundy gained admission based on recommendation letters written by several of his psychology professors (Dawson,
2015). One of his recommendation letters read as follows:
Mr. Bundy is undoubtedly one of the top undergraduate students in our department. Indeed,
I would place him in the top 1% of undergraduate students…[he] has become intensely
interested in studying psychological variables, which influence jury decisions…It is clear
that other students use him as a standard to emulate…His personal characteristics are all of
the highest standards. [He] is a mature young man who is very responsible and emotionally
stable (but, not emotionally flat as many students appear – he does get excited or upset
appropriately in various situations)…I am at a loss to delineate any real weaknesses he
has” (Dawson, 2015, p. 39).
His personal admissions application was even more surprising than that of his college professor’s. In the final paragraph of his motivational letter Bundy wrote, “I apply to law school because this institution will give me the tools to become a more effective actor in the social role
I have defined myself” (Rule, 2009, p. 39). He even had the audacity to include a paragraph stating that he was an orphan that had been surrendered to several foster homes during his 97 childhood to gain sympathy from, and manipulate professors into accepting his application
(Rule, 2009). No one could have guessed that Bundy’s success was the product of a well thought out façade – a public persona that efficiently masked his fractured personality and experience of internal chaos. By the spring of 1974, he had managed to kill several young women without leaving a shred of evidence behind (Dawson, 2015).
Romantic affiliations. Apart from his solid occupational foundation and popularity as a law student, Bundy also suddenly appeared to be every woman’s dream man (Dawson, 2015). Being in a longstanding relationship with Kendall did not seem to hinder him from indulging in a number of affairs with co-workers and random women that he picked up at bars. Bundy had also reemerged in the life of Stephanie Brooks, and he later admitted that they had occasionally kept in contact since the dissolution of their relationship back in 1967 (Rule, 2009). Bundy’s demonstration of employability appealed to Brooks, as she perceived his success in law and politics to be undeniable proof of his ever-growing maturity – a characteristic that she considered previously nonexistent in Bundy (Dobbert, 2009).
Despite the fact that Bundy was still living with Kendall in Washington, he asked for
Brooks’ hand in marriage after a very short, yet intense, courtship. Rule (2013) reported that
Brooks had apparently said ‘yes’ without a moment’s hesitation. However, two weeks after her acceptance of his marital proposal, Bundy abruptly broke off his relationship with Brooks in a similar fashion to her earlier rejection of him – achieving his long-awaited retribution. According to Dobbert (2009), Bundy left Brooks in San Francisco after the 1974 New Year, and returned to
Seattle without the slightest intention of ever contacting her again. Bundy explained his sudden act of revenge on Brooks to Dawson (2015): 98
“Well it’s true, I blew-off Stephanie – that bitch had it coming. She was the love of my life
and she tossed me in the garbage. It was like she ripped my guts out. I was so goddamn
depressed after she dumped me. Turnabout is fair play…I got engaged to that bitch to turn
around and get revenge for her dumping me…As I told you, that sex-addict, porno-stoked
malignant self, turned me out into a new brutal level. [Thereafter] I couldn’t resist the killing
obsession…” (p. 130-131 & 267).
Interestingly, all Bundy’s victims possessed similar physical features to Brooks, and had long, dark hair parted in the middle (Rule, 2013). Even though he refused to see the similarities between Brooks and his victims, detectives were convinced that there was a link. Kendall also shared this resemblance. She corroborated the police’s suspicions by recalling that “whenever I talked about cutting [my hair], he got very upset. He really likes long hair. The girls that he dated besides me had hair just like mine” (Rule, 2009, p. 190-191).
Victims. Between 1974 and 1978, Bundy abducted, assaulted, raped, murdered, and dismembered over 30 women across different states of America. Although Bundy ultimately confessed to 30 murders approximately a week before his scheduled execution, many law enforcement professionals involved in his case suspect that his actual murder count was closer to
100 victims - or even more (Dobbert, 2009). Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) moreover maintained that the identities of many of Bundy’s victims would probably be unknown forever.
Before the victim profiles can be discussed, it is important to note that Bundy did not view his victims as living beings. Rather, he objectified them through the process of depersonalisation as a means to separate or detach himself from the ‘human’ aspect of his victims. This way, he could feel no remorse for the pain he inflicted on them; their thoughts and feelings became insignificant (Sierra, 2009).The theme of objectification clearly manifested itself in Bundy’s 99 explanation to Dawson (2015) about how he could murder so many innocent young women without feeling the slightest sense of sorrow or regret: “the girls I killed were just symbols, images, and objects. I was looking for an idealised, abstract woman – avoiding any personal connection. Reasonable facsimiles of women as a class in the mythological sense” (p. 210). He further noted that he could not even remember half of the females he murdered, since “a guy does not keep track when he is having fun” (Dawson, 2015, p. 320). Bundy could not understand why there was such major concern surrounding the disappearances of a ‘few’ women. In his perception, the world was overpopulated anyway, and could do with a little less people. He emphasised his belief by asking one of the court appointed psychiatrists: “What’s one less bimbo among billions of people anyway?” (Dawson, 2015, p. 236). He ended off his conversation with
Dawson (2015) by apologising for the fact that his sex needs took precedence over some woman’s life, and arrogantly added that, “that’s the way the cookie crumbles” (p. 353).
Victim profiles. Apart from the fact that all his identified victims had long, dark hair that parted in the middle, McClellan (2006) stated that Bundy’s victims also shared various other similarities. All of his victims were young, middle-class, Caucasian females between the ages of
16-26 years. However, two of his victims deviated from his pattern of choice namely, Kimberly
Diane Leach, who was twelve, and Ann Marie Burr (suspected to be Bundy’s first ‘trial’ victim), who was eight-years-old. Regarding his victims’ education and lifestyle choices, Bundy was predominantly drawn to university students or graduates, who, generally, did not partake in high- risk behaviours. Only two of his victims reportedly hitchhiked – an activity considered dangerous since it involves climbing into a stranger’s car. While most of Bundy’s victims participated in controlled, social drinking behaviour at restaurants, bars, or fraternity gatherings, none of them were involved in activities such as excessive alcohol consumption or drug abuse 100
(McClellan, 2006; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2013). Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) moreover conveyed that Bundy did not personally know any of his victims. Strangely, the women that he did happen to date, marry, or live with, never came to any harm.
In terms of Bundy’s ‘killing strategy’, his modus operandi often varied according to his mood and degree of intoxication, and to the opportunities that presented themselves in his environment (for example, women walking alone in secluded areas on campus) (Dawson, 2015).
On a few occasions, he surreptitiously snuck into his victims’ residence at night, and bludgeoned them to death as they slept. However, on other occasions, he employed a far more elaborate plan to abduct and subsequently murder his victims (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). During his more convoluted attempts, Bundy used his superficial charm and flattery to gain young women’s trust.
His attractive features and suave demeanor in combination with his ruse of fake casts, crutches, and/or arm slings, allowed him to gain sympathy from his unsuspecting victims. By pretending to be injured, Bundy distracted them from the ensuing danger and lured them to his VW Beetle.
Here, he overpowered, handcuffed, and assaulted them with a crowbar before transporting them to more secluded or isolated areas. During one instance, he even impersonated a police officer to ensure that his victim followed him to his vehicle. Bundy detailed that his “maneuvers and tricks worked best with a susceptible, more defenseless woman who [he] could manipulate into a defenseless position”, and added that lying is a prerequisite for anyone who wanted to abduct women (Dawson, 2015, p. 204). He furthermore explained his choice of victim to Dawson
(2015):
I picked the young ladies…if I sensed a kind of vulnerability, susceptibility, and
receptiveness. [I aimed for those who] were open to helping me – gullible enough to fall for
my ruses, cons, tricks, such as the arm-in-the-sling, undercover cop, injured guy who needed 101
a bit of help. I brought out the mother in some of them – and I don’t mean my mother. I
wasn’t hung-up on any guilt feeling, so the whole killing spree just snowballed (p. 211).
After he abducted his victims, Bundy typically bludgeoned, sexually assaulted, and strangled them in a quiet area. He expressed that the more petrified his victims became, the more it aroused him sexually (Dawson, 2015). Bundy furthermore stated that after his victim regained consciousness, he found it highly amusing to pretend that someone else attacked them, and that he was “a Good Samaritan taking them to the hospital” (Dawson, 2015, p. 217). Thereafter, he finally strangled them with rope or stockings during which he raped them until they died. Bundy detailed his experience of murder to Dawson (2015):
You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body…you’re looking into their eyes. A person in
that situation is God! You then possess them and they shall forever be a part of you. And the
grounds where you kill them or leave them become sacred to you, and you will always be
drawn back to them (p. 229).
On some occasions, Bundy admitted that he even used some of his victims to animate his sex fantasies. He reportedly made them dress in certain outfits, and forced them to pose in ways that recreated the pornographic images that appealed to him in magazines or movies (Dawson,
2015). Post-mortem reports indicated that he moreover bit his victims on the breasts or buttocks
(McClellan, 2006). In many cases, their genitalia also showed evidence of severe physical trauma. Pathologists working on Bundy’s case explained that some of the women’s genitalia had been slashed with a sharp object such as a knife and that there were clear signs of forceful penetration by inanimate objects. These objects included a splintered wooden bedpost and an aerosol can (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2009). Rule (2009) characterised the latter as actions of “symbolic rape” (p. 57). 102
Figure 10: Photograph of the bite marks on Lisa Levy’s buttocks (1978). Experts in forensic dentistry successfully matched Bundy’s unique dental features to the tooth impressions left in Levy’s skin. Once his victims were dead, Bundy disposed of their bodies at remote dumpsites. Depending on his location, he either concealed their corpses behind hard-to-find bushes or shrubs, buried them in shallow graves, or threw them into flowing river gorges (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
According to Dawson (2015), Michaud and Aynesworth (2012), and Rule (2013), Bundy often revisited his secondary crime scenes to perform sexual acts with the corpses until the process of decomposition drove him away. Bundy asserted that he had his own “garbage disposal method at the dumping grounds where he left his kills – a whole bunch of beasties who would, in effect, destroy every last shred of the victim” (Dawson, 2015, p. 86). Here, Bundy was referring to wild animals, rodents, and insects that ate away at the victims’ dead bodies. This, in combination with the natural elements, made the physical identification of many of his victims extremely difficult
(Keppel & Birnes, 2005; McClellan, 2006). In some instances, Bundy also beheaded his victims 103 with a hacksaw. He told Dawson (2015) that he carried the decapitated heads around with him for days and have oral sex with them. Additionally, he took some of the bodies home with him, took pictures of them, and groomed them by applying make-up on their faces. Bundy willingly admitted that he found the cyanotic hue (that is, a blue/purple discolouration) of his vicitms’ fingernails and lips intriguing (Sullivan, 2009). However, one of Bundy’s most disturbing confessions was that he engaged in cannibalism. He told Dawson (2015) the following concerning his cannibalistic acts:
I did eat some flesh of some of the women – the ones who I dismembered and brought their
heads home. Sometimes I’d have several girls heads stored at my place. I’d cook and eat
their flesh. It was part of my sex-fantasy obsession (p. 365).
When investigators finally asked Bundy how he could take someone’s life in such a cruel, sadistic manner, he avoided any form of accountability. He reasoned that women who were walking alone were asking to be murdered. Furthermore, he argued that if a girl is stupid enough to get into a strangers car, “she deserves everything she gets” (Dawson, 2015, p. 374).
Figure 11: Photographs of some of Bundy’s known victims. 104
Washington State victims. Bundy’s first documented attack on a woman occurred on January
4, 1974 in Seattle, Washington. Bundy entered Joni Lenz’s (pseudonym) basement apartment and bludgeoned her with a blunt instrument while she was asleep in her bed. He then sexually assaulted her with a speculum (a device generally used for pelvic examinations on women) to such an extent that it left her with severe internal injuries. Lenz remained in a coma for ten days.
Although she survived the attack, Bundy left her with irreversible brain injuries (Dawson, 2015).
Lynda Ann Healy, a psychology major at the University of Washington, was Bundy’s next victim. Bundy attacked and kidnapped Healy from her basement bedroom while she was asleep on January 31, 1974. Co-workers reported Healy missing the following morning when she failed to show up at the radio station where she worked as a part-time ski announcer (Dawson, 2015;
Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Following Healy’s disappearance, Bundy traveled to Olympia,
Washington in search for another victim. On March 12, 1974, an Evergreen State College student, Donna Gail Manson, went missing after she left her campus dorm room to attend a jazz concert. Bundy had managed to seduce and abduct her without leaving any witnesses or evidence. Detectives never found Manson’s body (Dawson, 2015).
Approximately a month later, Bundy made his way to Ellensburg, Washington. Soon after his arrival, Susan Rancourt went missing. Rancourt’s friends indicated that she planned on meeting up with them to watch a German movie after her dorm advisors’ meeting on campus, but she never arrived. According to eyewitnesses, Rancourt was last seen after she reportedly helped a man with a cast on his arm, carry books to his Volkswagen Beetle on May 6, 1974
(Dawson, 2015). Two weeks later, Bundy drove 260 miles to Corvallis, Oregon in Washington
State where he abducted Roberta Kathleen ‘Kathy’ Parks on May 6, 1974. Parks vanished after she left her dorm room at Oregon State University to get coffee with friends at the campus 105
Student Union Building. Bundy later admitted that he used the same ruse on Parks that he did on
Rancourt (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). He moreover told Dawson (2015) the following about Parks:
I’m afraid Parks was a particularly juicy, luscious, and succulent piece of ass. Normally, I
would have disposed of damaged goods at a remote dumpsite like the lower slopes of a
mountain in Oregon. I risked police detection and drove her from Oregon to Washington. I
wanted more time to ravish, fornicate, and abuse her body. Rape. Necrophilia. The whole
nine yards I’m embarrassed to admit (p. 163).
Bundy returned to his original ‘hunting grounds’ in Seattle in June, 1974. However, instead of lurking around on campuses, he now changed his focus to local college hangout spots situated on the outskirts of university terrains to pick up young women. Brenda Ball, a graduate of
Highline Community College, was one such woman. Eyewitness accounts last place Ball in the parking lot of Flame Tavern at around two o’clock in the morning where she had been attempting to obtain a lift home from anyone who was willing to take her. Her roommate only reported her missing 17 days later. She explained that she was not initially concerned about
Ball’s welfare, as everyone knew her to be free-spirited and independent. The following year, investigators found the skeletal remains of Healy, Parks, and Ball on Taylor Mountain. Due to weather conditions and various wild animals, forensic teams could only locate their jawbones and parts of their fractured skulls (Dawson, 2015; Keppel & Birnes, 2005; Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012).
Bundy’s next known victim was Georgann Hawkins, a sorority student at the University of
Washington. She was last seen socialising on Greek Row on the night of June 11, 1974. While on death row, Bundy confessed that he had feigned a broken leg to persuade Hawkins to help 106 him carry a briefcase to his car. He explained that his ploy involved dropping his briefcase repeatedly (because he had to use crutches) until someone – preferably a young girl – would take pity on him. Once at his car, he stated that he hit Hawkins over the head with a crowbar until she was unconscious, loaded her into his car, and drove her to a forested area before he raped, and strangled her with a piece of rope. Bundy added that he then had sex with her corpse, and severed her head with a hacksaw (Dawson, 2015; Keppel & Birnes, 2005). On July 14, 1974,
Bundy ventured to Lake Sammamish State Park where he abducted two women a mere four hours apart in broad daylight. Witnesses claimed that a man in white tennis gear approach various women at the lake, asking them to help him load his sail boat onto his car’s roof at his parent’s nearby home. He apparently introduced himself as ‘Ted’. Unfortunately, Janice Ott and
Denise Naslund fell for Bundy’s superficial charm and attractive features, and consequently, died at the hands of Bundy. On September 7, 1974, two hunters uncovered the remnants of Ott and
Naslund in the Issaquah hills – less than ten miles from the park off Interstate 90. They additionally found bones belonging to a third, unidentified victim (Dawson, 2015; Keppel &
Birnes, 2005; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
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Figure 12: An evidence photograph of Denise Naslund’s skull found in the Issaquah hills (King County Archives, 7 September, 1974). Utah victims. In August 1974, Bundy relocated to Salt Lake City to attend classes at Utah’s
Law School. Thus, no murders were committed until October 1974. As Salt Lake City is situated
850 miles from Seattle, police initially failed to connect the Washington State murders to the
Utah murders. Bundy’s first Utah victim was Nancy Wilcox, a high school student from
Holladay (located just south of Salt Lake City). Eyewitness testimonies suggested that Wilcox was last seen hitchhiking on the night of October 2, 1974, after she had an argument with her parents. She reportedly climbed into a light brown/cream Volkswagen Beetle with a young man.
Wilcox was missing ever since, and her body has never been found (Dawson, 2015). The daughter of Midvale’s police chief was next on Bundy’s radar. Melissa Smith disappeared on
October 18, 1974 when she decided to hitchhike home from a teenage haunt nearby. Smith’s body was discovered ten days later. Forensic pathologists revealed that her body showed clear signs of strangulation, sodomisation, and rape. Bundy’s killing spree escalated as he murdered a third victim in that same month (that is, in October 1974). 108
On October 31, 1974, Laura Aimee vanished from a Halloween party in Orem, Utah.
According to Aimee’s friends, they last saw her when she left the party to go buy a pack of cigarettes at a store in the neighborhood. Police investigators found her naked body the following day dumped next to a river in the Wasatch Mountains (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth,
2012). During this period, police slowly started to consider the possibility of linking the
Washington State victims to the Utah victims, and publicised their first composite sketch of the man who called himself ‘Ted’ at Lake Sammamish.
Figure 13: The first composite sketch that police furnished of Bundy (1974).
On November 8, 1974, Carol Da Ronch survived Bundy’s attack, and would subsequently serve as a valuable witness when she testified in his ‘aggravated kidnapping’ trial in 1976.
According to Da Ronch, Bundy approached her in Fashion Place Mall in Murray, Utah. She reported that he impersonated a police officer, and went by the name of ‘Officer Roseland’. Da
Ronch furthermore recalled that ‘Officer Roseland’ claimed that a thief had broken into her car, and that she had to accompany him to police headquarters so she could sign an official complaint. Upon their arrival at the ‘police office’, which was actually the back of a closed-down 109 laundromat, Da Ronch became suspicious, and attempted to climb out of Bundy’s Beetle. He then struck her on the head with a blunt object and tried to handcuff her wrists. Luckily, Bundy had inadvertently placed both handcuffs on her same hand, enabling Da Ronch to jump out of the car and escape (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013).
Due to Da Ronch’s escape, Bundy became desperate to satiate his sexual urges. That same evening, he drove 20 miles to the town of Bountiful, Utah, and abducted Debra Kent, a student at
Viewmont High School. Kent left to fetch her younger brother at a skate park during the intermission of a school play, but never returned to the concert hall. Although her body was never found, police later discovered a small key in Kent’s school’s parking lot that fitted the handcuffs used to restrain Da Ronch (Miles & Huberman, 2012).
Colorado victims. In an attempt to avoid further police detection, Bundy proceeded to
Colorado (400 miles southeast of Utah) to seek out new victims. Caryn Campbell, a nurse on vacation with her boyfriend and his two children at Wildwood Inn in Snowmass Village,
Colorado, vanished on January 12, 1975. According to her boyfriend, Campbell went to their upstairs hotel room to fetch a magazine, but never returned to the lobby’s fireplace where they were initially conversing. Campbell’s body was located a month later near a dirt road within a few miles range from the Wildwood Inn. The forensic pathologists responsible for examining her body disclosed that Campbell appeared to have died due to blunt force trauma to the head. She had apparently been bludgeoned by a blunt instrument such as a crowbar. Evidence also suggested that Bundy had slashed her body with a sharp knife before raping, and murdering her
(Dawson, 2015). Bundy told Dawson (2015) that he “stripped [Campbell’s] clothes off, raped her, and when she gained consciousness, [he] played with her. She pled and beseeched [him] to let her go free. [He] couldn’t help but laugh at her” (p. 170). 110
Bundy subsequently journeyed to Vail, Colorado, where he lured Julie Cunningham, a ski instructor, to his car on March 15, 1975. Bundy later confessed that he pretended to struggle through the snow on his crutches, and asked Cunningham if she would help him carry his ski boots to his car. When they reached his car, Bundy allegedly hit her over the head with a crowbar, handcuffed her, and drove her to a secluded area near Rifle, Colorado. He then strangled and raped her, and returned to her body a week later to gratify his needs once again
(Dawson, 2015). Approximately a month later on April 6, 1975, Denise Oliverson went missing in Grand Junction, Colorado whilst riding her bicycle to her parent’s house. Police later found her bicycle and shoes under a viaduct near a railroad bridge. Bundy later told Dawson (2015) that he severed her head, and incinerated it in Kendall’s fireplace to get rid of the evidence.
Bundy’s last Colorado victim was 12-year-old Lynette Culvar from Pocatello, Idaho. Culvar was last seen at Alameda Junior School on the morning of May 6, 1975. Bundy sexually assaulted her in his hotel room before drowning her in the bathtub. He then dumped her body in the Snake
River just north of Pocatello (Dawson, 2015; Keppel & Birnes, 2005; Michaud & Aynesworth,
2012).
Florida victims. On December 30, 1977, he went on to attack six known victims in Florida.
Of the six individuals, he unfortunately managed to kill two of the women and a young girl within a month (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). In the early morning of January 14, 1978, Bundy snuck into the Chi Omega Sorority House on
Florida State Campus, and savagely attacked four female students with a chunk of wood while they were asleep. He bludgeoned Lisa Levy over the head, and subsequently raped and strangled her to death. Bundy moreover bit her on her buttocks, and nearly ripped her nipple off.
Pathologists involved with the Chi Omega murders stated that Bundy sexually assaulted Levy 111 with an aerosol spray bottle (presumed to be hairspray) (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). The second young woman murdered by Bundy was Margaret Bowman. Bowman was killed in a similar fashion to Levy, but had been strangled with a pair of pantyhose. Police officers on the scene described the attack as frenzied, and detailed that both women’s skulls were fractured to such a degree that their brains were exposed (Dawson, 2015). Karen Chandler and Kathy Kleiner
Deshields were lucky enough to survive the ordeal. The Chi Omega attacks were apparently not enough to satiate Bundy’s pent-up sexual urges, as he fled the crime scene only to break into another young woman’s apartment less than a mile from the Chi Omega House. Once he entered the apartment, Bundy assaulted Cheryl Thomas by violently hitting her over the head several times. However, he was interrupted, as Thomas’s neighbouring tenants called the police after hearing loud, thumping and moaning sounds. Thomas survived the attack, but Bundy left her with some permanent cognitive disabilities (Dawson, 2015). A detailed record of the injuries incurred by Bundy’s Florida victims can be located in Appendix C.
Bundy abducted his final victim on February 9, 1978 in Lake City, Florida. Kimberly Leach was last seen leaving her junior school with a stranger in a white van. Bundy had supposedly stolen the van from a nearby university campus. After a statewide search for Leach, police found her decomposed body in Suwannee County, Florida two months later. Table 2 provides a chronological list of Bundy’s known and suspected victims. Important to note, is that Bundy’s
1977 and 1978 murders occurred during his second escape from prison.
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TABLE 2: A Chronological List of Bundy’s Known and Suspected Victims Identified Victims Suspected Victims Date Name Age Date Name Age Prior to 1974 August 31, 1961 Ann Marie Burr 8 June 23, 1966 Lonnie Trumbull 20 May 30, 1969 Susan Davis 19 May 30, 1969 Elizabeth Perry 19 July 19, 1971 Rita Curran 24 June 29, 1973 Rita Lorraine Jolly 17 August 20, 1973 Vickie Lynn Hollar 24 1974 January 4 Joni Lenz 18 May 27 Brenda Joy Baker 14 January 31 Lynda Ann Healy 21 August 2 Carol Valenzuela 20 March 12 Donna Gail Manson 19 August 2 Unidentified woman - May 6 Susan Rancourt 18 June 1 Roberta Kathleen Parks 20 June 11 Brenda Ball 22 June 11 Georgann Hawkins 18 July 14 Janice Ott 23 July 14 Denise Naslund 19 October 2 Nancy Wilcox 16 October 18 Melissa Smith 17 October 31 Laura Aimee 17 November 8 Carol Da Ronch 19 November 8 Debra Kent 17 1975 January 12 Caryn Campbell 23 April 15 Melanie Cooley 18 March 15 Julie Cunningham 26 July 1 Shelly Robertson 24 April 6 Denise Oliverson 25 July 4 Nancy Perry Baird 23 May 6 Lynette Culvar 12 1976 February Debbie Smith 17 1978 January 14 Margaret Bowman 21 January 14 Lisa Levy 20 January 14 Karen Chandler 21 January 14 Kathy Kleiner Deshields 21 January 14 Cheryl Thomas 21 February 9 Kimberly Leach 12 Note: Adapted from Dawson, P. (2015). Faces of Ted Bundy: My prison interviews with Bundy. New York, NY: Vistar Pictures; Michaud, S.G., & Aynesworth, H. (2012). The only living witness: The true story of a serial sex killer Ted Bundy. London, England: Authorlink.
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The blame game. Whenever detectives, psychologists, or judges asked Bundy why he killed so many young women, he always blamed one of three things: his addiction to hardcore pornography, his dependence on alcohol and mood-altering drugs, or the ‘evil entity’ that resided within him. He lacked the ability to take responsibility for any of the murders he committed, and consistently attributed his sexually violent behaviour towards young women and girls to external factors that were beyond his control (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). In his prison interviews with Dawson (2015), Bundy described pornography as the fuel that awakened his latent sexual desires. He argued that the more he watched pornography that highlighted the idea of brutality and violence towards women, the more inclined he felt to transfer his sexually deviant fantasies to reality.
Bundy moreover accused alcohol and drugs for eroding the restraints he had in place that prevented him from committing assault, and subsequently raping and murdering his victims. He indicated that the marriage of pornography and addictive substances diminished his inhibitions to such a point that it actually molded and dictated every facet of his behavioural repertoire
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). However, Bundy’s favourite excuse for his murderous behaviour was ‘the entity.’ He suggested that a malevolent force within him propelled him to kidnap, torture, rape, and murder innocent young women (Dawson, 2015; Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2000). He explained his repeated encounters with ‘the entity’ to Dawson (2015):
This individual – the killer – was inhabited by a contrary being. I’d call it an entity, the
disordered self. An evil or malignant being. When the desire met the fantasies, a negative
energy or force drove him to kill…While I was committing the murders, I felt as if I was
possessed by something cruel, vicious and alien. It led to the first wicked compulsion to rape
and murder. Afterwards, I was more or less satisfied…the fierce, atrocious entity pressure 114
fades…then I’m spent; that energy level regresses, retreats, and fundamentally I become
myself again (p. 55 & 97).
Ultimately, Bundy’s inability to take responsibility for his actions meant that he did not feel guilty about them either. Instead, he continually justified or rationalised his behaviour – a classic case of cognitive distortion (Freud, 1937; Meyer et al., 2008). He thought of guilt as an illusive emotion that acted as a social mechanism to control people. Bundy explained that the experience of guilt is “very unhealthy”, and that it “does terrible things to our bodies”. He added that, “there are much better ways to control our behaviour than that rather extraordinary use of guilt”
(Dawson, 2015, p. 56). He supplemented this last excuse by asserting that his goal is to live in the present moment – not to suffer unnecessarily because of past mistakes (Dawson, 2015).
Ironically, Bundy expected the public and the professionals working on his case during Death
Row to show him compassion and remorse even after a prosecutor listed 26 victims that Bundy mercilessly attacked and killed. His response to the latter was not only illogical, but also laughable: “I look out for number one – me. Where’s the remorse for me? My life is over. I’m stuck on Death Row and expect to be executed next year! Who’s crying for me? Everybody wants to kill me!” (Dawson, 2015, p. 317).
The Bundy Trials. By August 1975, Bundy had murdered more than 20 women without drawing any attention from law enforcement. His crimes lacked the necessary evidential value needed by investigators to apprehend him – or anyone else for that matter (Sullivan, 2009).
Bundy unequivocally believed that he was immune to detection and capture, and that police officers were “buffoons, jokers, and bumbling idiots” (Dawson, 2015, p. 311). He went on to tell
Dawson (2015) that, “…no matter how I fucked up, twisted, or rotated my plans, I was invulnerable, exempt from being caught by cops” (p. 186). However, Bundy’s luck changed. 115
First arrest. While patrolling Granger, a residential area near Salt Lake City, a Utah
Highway Patrol Officer became suspicious of Bundy’s vehicle parked randomly on the side of a road. Bundy had been sitting in his car at 2:30 A.M. on August 16, 1975 smoking marijuana and studying a map of Salt Lake City, when Sergeant Bob Hayward suddenly shone a light at his
Volkswagen. In order to evade arrest, or any contact with law enforcement, Bundy sped off and raced through stop signs, just to be blocked by two additional officers on the opposite side
(Dawson. 2015; Sullivan, 2009).
Upon searching Bundy’s car, the officers discovered various paraphernalia that included items such as a seven-foot white nylon rope, a ski mask, a single brown cotton glove, a pry bar, a black leather ski glove, a pair of pantyhose with eye and nose holes cut out, a bag of Glad plastic trash bags, a flashlight, a four-foot length of wire, an icepick, eight strips of white sheet, and a pair of handcuffs (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Sullivan, 2009). Bundy argued that the masks were solely for skiing, that he had discovered the handcuffs in a nearby dumpster, and that the rest were everyday household things. However, Hayward was not convinced, and subsequently arrested Bundy for various traffic violations, evading an officer, and for suspicion of burglary. What initially seemed to be an assemblage of burglary tools was later called
Bundy’s ‘murder kit’ during his trials (Dawson, 2015).
According to Dawson (2015), Bundy’s first arrest “set in motion a multi-jurisdictional police investigation”, and Bundy now became a prime suspect (p. 321). Jerry Thompson, a detective in
Utah, connected Bundy and his VW to the Da Ronch kidnapping case in which he was later charged. His crimes truly started to unravel when detectives realised that Bundy possessed the same type and brand of handcuffs used to restrain Da Ronch, and that his VW also matched the description Da Ronch gave in her statement to the police. Consequently, investigators asked Da 116
Ronch to attend a police line-up where she positively identified ‘Ted’ as her attacker despite
Bundy’s efforts to change his appearance beforehand (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule,
2013; Sullivan, 2009).
Figure 14: Police photograph (1975). The items recovered from Bundy’s Volkswagen Beetle during his first arrest. Da Ronch trial. Bundy’s first trial began on Monday, February 23, 1976, where he stood accused of kidnapping Carol Da Ronch two years earlier (Sullivan, 2009). Ironically, eyewitnesses sitting in on his trial described Bundy as approaching his trial with his usual entitled and egocentric demeanor. Bundy seemed relaxed, since he believed that no real incriminating evidence existed that could possibly lead to a conviction (Dawson, 205; Sullivan,
2009). The state’s case, as well as Bundy’s acquittal, relied entirely upon Da Ronch’s testimony. 117
During the trial, Da Ronch held firm that Bundy was, in fact, ‘Officer Roseland’, her abductor.
In a similar fashion, Bundy denied that he had ever seen Da Ronch before, but could provide no alibi for where he was when the crime occurred. Dr. Loftus, an expert witness for the defense, focused her testimony on the role of eyewitness memory, and unconscious transference, which she described as “the mistaken recollection or confusion of a person seen in one situation as the one who has been seen in a different situation” (Loftus & Ketcham, 1992, as cited in Dawson,
2015, p. 13). Her goal was to show the judge that Da Ronch could have mistaken Bundy for someone who merely looks like him. However, Loftus’ argument did not hold in court. Thus,
Stewart Hanson found Bundy guilty of aggravated kidnapping and sentenced him to 15 years in prison with the possibility of parole on June 30, 1976.
Figure 15: October 1975 - Bundy in the police line-up where Da Ronch identified him as her attacker. Bundy is second from right in the line-up.
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Following his conviction, Bundy expressed to Dawson (2015) that, “the only mistake I made with Carol Da Ronch was that I should have killed her…but, the bitch got away and ratted me out to the cops” (p. 325). The district attorney additionally described Bundy as “the most cocky person [he] has ever faced” (Rule, 2013, p. 243). From this time forward, Bundy became a suspect in a number of unsolved homicides in various states, and was shortly after extradited to
Pitkin County Courthouse in Aspen, Colorado where he faced murder charges (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009; Schechter, 2003). Hereafter, Bundy escaped custody twice.
First escape. Bundy’s first successful escape occurred on June 7, 1977 while preparing for a murder trial at the Garfield County Jail in Glenwood Springs. A new health regulation was put in place that stated that Pitkin Jail could no longer house prisoners for more than 30 days.
Consequently, they had to commute Bundy back and forth from Aspen to Glenwood Springs on a daily basis (Sullivan, 2009). It was during this time that Judge George Lohr granted Bundy the permission to act as his own defense lawyer. Mike Fisher, a Chief Investigator in Colorado, recalled that, “[Bundy] was so very proud of himself. He thought the entire courtroom was welling up in admiration of his knowledge of the law, and his formidable oration in support of his arguments” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 190). As Bundy was representing himself in court, he received slightly more freedom than a typical prisoner would. His handcuffs and leg irons were removed so that he could make use of the court’s law library to do research for his case (Dawson, 2105;
Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Sullivan, 2009). Moreover, he had consent to dress in normal clothes, rather than a jail uniform (Dawson, 2015). During a court recess, the guards left Bundy unattended in the library for a few minutes. The prison guards were relaxed and casual around him, as he once again used his glibness and victim mentality to manipulate them into believing he was harmless (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Sullivan, 2009). Once he was alone, Bundy 119 used the opportunity to jump out of an open window on the second floor of the courthouse. He had apparently been planning his escape for weeks by jumping from the top of his prison bunk bed in his cell to strengthen his ankles for the impact of the fall. Police recaptured Bundy six days later after he had become physically and mentally exhausted from hiding in the wilderness
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). He was subsequently moved to El Paso County Jail in Colorado
Springs (Sullivan, 2009).
Second escape. According to Carlisle (2013), Bundy planned his second escape for months by developing a fixed pattern in prison as to avoid provoking the guards’ suspicions. He furthermore reduced his daily meal sizes in order to lose weight, and feigned illness in the mornings leading up to his escape so that he could go undetected for a number of hours by pretending to be asleep (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). On December 31, 1977, Bundy escaped for a second time after loosening a light fixture with a small hacksaw that he obtained from a fellow inmate. He then hoisted himself up through the small opening in his cell’s ceiling and dropped down into a closet space located in a small room utilised by staff, and walked out of the front door unnoticed (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Prison authorities only discovered that Bundy was missing 17 hours later, by which stage he had already travelled to
Chicago (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009).
After regaining his freedom, Bundy assumed the alias of ‘Chris Hagen’, and managed to steal several vehicles as he fled towards Tallahassee, Florida. It was during this time that he committed the Florida State Chi Omega Sorority House attacks and murders, assaulted Cheryl
Thomas, and killed Kimberly Leach (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Sullivan, 2009). Officer
David Lee rearrested Bundy on February 15, 1978 in West Pensacola, Florida after he identified the license plate number on a stolen car, which Bundy was driving (Dawson, 2015). Bundy was 120 no stranger to using aliases in order to mislead others. Prior to his arrests, he operated under numerous false identities, which included ‘Kenneth Misner’, ‘Richard Burton’, and ‘Rolf Miller’
(Taylor, 2017).
Convictions, appeals, and death row. Bundy’s extensive criminal career finally came to an end after he was arrested (after his two escapes) and charged for numerous crimes including the possession of burglary tools, evading a police officer, drug possession, breaking and entering, grand theft auto, prison escape, kidnapping, assault, and murder (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
During his trials, Bundy acted as his own defense, and insisted on representing himself, as he felt that the attorneys representing him, were, ironically, ill-equipped to handle his case, and lacked experience (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2013). Throughout his court hearings and trials, Bundy refused to take responsibility for his actions, and pleaded ‘not-guilty’ to the three counts of murder he was being prosecuted for (that is, the murders of Lisa Levy,
Margaret Bowman, and Kimberly Leach). He also fervently rejected the insanity plea. In his interview with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000), Bundy had the following to say about his choice to refuse the insanity defense:
I said I wouldn’t have anything to do with an insanity defense. I was strongly opposed
to…even considering the idea because I knew I wasn’t crazy. I know I’m not crazy! Insane,
incompetent, or anything else. And I was insulted by even the suggestion by my attorneys
that we should consider the defense. They knew damn well I wasn’t crazy (p. 252).
Despite the overwhelming evidence presented against Bundy in court, his family continued to believe in his innocence until he finally confessed shortly before his execution in 1989 (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2013). In fact, his mother came to his defense every chance she could get, and subsequently told The News Tribune that, “Ted Bundy does not go around killing 121 women and little children! And I know this, too, that our never-ending faith in Ted – our faith that he is innocent – has never wavered. And it never will” (Lynn, 2013, para. 6).
On July 31, 1978, the jury charged Bundy with the first-degree murder of Kimberly Leach, and subsequently sentenced him to death in 1980. Soon after, he received an additional two death sentences for the murders of Chi Omega sorority sisters, Margaret Bowman and Lisa Levy
(Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013). Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) asserted that although Bundy was only sentenced for three of his murders, he was in effect,
“sentenced in absentia…and therefore would dodge personal responsibility for his atrocities until the very end of his life” (p. 306).
Figure 16: Bundy in court during one of his many trials (n.d.). 122
Bundy was placed on Death Row in Florida State’s Raiford Prison until his execution in
1989 (Rule, 2013). Bundy filed numerous appeals between 1980 and 1989, but appellate jurisdictions dismissed all of them (Dobbert, 2009). Rule (2009) stated that Bundy unequivocally recognised that he had lost his case, but continued to blame that loss on the police, prosecutors, and the judge presiding over his trial. He described them as men who were “too weak, too timid, too blind, and too frightened, to accept the cruel deception of the state’s case” (p. 251). Even after all of his appeals were rejected, he continued to broadcast his ‘innocence’ to anyone who had half the mind to listen to him. He declared the following to Rule (2009): “Lastly and most importantly, I want you to know, I want the whole world to know that I am innocent. I have never hurt another human being in my life. God, please believe me!” (p. 251).
Psychiatric (and psychological) evaluations. During his incarceration, Bundy underwent extensive psychiatric and psychological evaluations over a number of years. Clinicians, psychologists and psychiatrists alike seemed to take turns in diagnosing him with various personality and mood disorders that ranged from Bipolar I Disorder, to Narcissistic Personality
Disorder, Antisocial Personality Disorder (or psychopathy), Borderline Personality Disorder,
Schizoid Personality Disorder, and Reaction Attachment Disorder (Dawson, 2015; Rule, 2013).
These evaluations predominantly served as proof of Bundy’s sanity (or insanity) that either the prosecution or defense could use to strengthen their case. However, mental health professionals and law enforcement agencies also saw it as an opportunity to gain insight into Bundy’s behaviour, and what insight he could potentially provide on others that commit similar crimes
(Keppel & Birnes, 2009).
Dr. Al Carlisle, a prison psychologist who assessed Bundy in 1979, reported that Bundy had an exceptional ability to observe his environment and those around him (Carlisle, 2013). 123
However, he stated that, “I feel Mr. Bundy has not allowed me to get to know him, and I believe there are many significant things about him that remain hidden” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 53). Dr. Van
Austin, a prison psychiatrist, agreed with Dr. Carlisle’s assessment of Bundy, but asserted that
Bundy’s withdrawal from deeper or more personal matters was due to his tendency to compartmentalise and rationalise his behaviour. He indicated that, “there is much more to his personality structure than either the psychologists or I have been able to determine. As long as
[Bundy] compartmentalises, rationalises, and debates every facet of his life, I don’t feel that I adequately know him” (Dawson, 2015, p. 258). In his report, Dr. Carlisle additionally noted that
Bundy exhibited a strong sense of insecurity under his cool, calm, and collected façade. He argued that the latter caused Bundy to seek structure and control in all aspects of his life on a continual basis (for example, in his relationship with women, and in controlling his emotions).
He subsequently wrote that, “[Bundy] becomes somewhat threatened by people unless he feels he can structure the outcome of the relationship” (Dawson, 2015, p. 256).
Mike Minerva, Bundy’s lawyer at the time, asked Dr. Emanuel Tanay to conduct a psychiatric evaluation on Bundy in 1979, in order to determine Bundy’s psychological state and competency to stand trial. Tanay (2013) maintained that Bundy’s pathologies – that is, Antisocial
Personality Disorder and Narcissistic Personality Disorder - had an adverse effect on his overall behaviour and thought processes. He continued by stating that Bundy had an inability to recognise the implications of the evidence held against him, because his perception of reality was severely distorted (Dawson, 2015; Tanay, 2013). Tanay (2013, as cited in Dawson, 2015) explained that Bundy’s behaviour was orientated towards showmanship rather than discretion, and that he was solely motivated by the need to be noticed and admired, rather than to help himself during his trials. He added that it seemed as if Bundy “took a perverse pleasure in the 124 publicity” he was receiving (Tanay, 2013, as cited in Rule, 2009, p. 109). Tanay (2013) clarified the above in his mental status examination:
Mr. Bundy dealt with me as if I was a reporter for Times magazine or some other
publication. He certainly did not deal with me as if I was a psychiatrist retained by the
defense to assist in defending him when he was facing a death sentence. [His image] was
more important to him than saving his own life. He was typically responding to a
gratification of the moment (Dawson, 2015, p. 292-293).
In one of his prison letters to Ann Rule, Bundy’s conceited demeanor further substantiated
Tanay’s interpretation of Bundy, and once again highlighted his flawed sense of reality, emotional immaturity, and disregard for logical reasoning (Rule, 2009):
I was whistling in the wind, yet in a curious sort of way, I felt a deep sense of fulfilment. I
felt relaxed, but emphatic; controlled, but sincere and filled with emotion. It didn’t matter
who was listening, although I desired each word to strike the Judge as forcefully as possible.
Briefly, all too briefly, I was myself again, amongst free people, using all the skill I could
muster, fighting the only way I know how: with words, and logic…and all too briefly, I was
testing the dream of being an attorney (p. 251).
Clinicians such as C.M. Guinn (2013) extended the above evaluations, by reporting that
Bundy demonstrated a lack of appropriate affective reactions, and that his emotional responses were shallow and exaggerated. Bundy would, for example, seem excited when he talked of his prison escapes, and exhibited no signs of empathy, guilt, remorse, or regret regarding his crimes.
Clinicians moreover described him as possessing characteristics that are directly associated with psychopathy. These included pathological lying and deceitfulness, a need to manipulate, ignorance of societal norms, passive-aggressive responses, hostility towards others, difficulty 125 controlling anger, and the devaluation of others in fantasy that extends into reality (Dawson,
2015). Lastly, Dr. Carlisle reported that Bundy’s recurrent use of marijuana and alcohol indicated that he had difficulty in handling stress and adapting to change (Dawson, 2015).
Despite their qualifications, Bundy stated that those who evaluated him committed diagnostic fraud (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). In his mind, “their diagnostic skills were pathetic, pitiful, and absurd” (Dawson, 2015, p. 247). He moreover found their psychological analyses to be “malicious, slanted, and infernal” (Rule, 2009, p. 248).
Death Row interviews. Bundy gave numerous professionals the opportunity to interview him while on Death Row, including Dr. James Dobson (a Christian author and psychologist), and
Dr. Paul Dawson (a clinical psychologist working at state prisons). However, one of his most comprehensive interviews to date was with Stephan Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth, who subsequently wrote a biography on Bundy’s life called, The Only Living Witness. They additionally published a book, Ted Bundy: Conversations with a Killer, which include verbatim accounts of Bundy’s Death Row interviews with them. Keppel (2000) stated that, “Ted was resourceful and intelligent…Few - if any - serial killers have ever talked at such length, and with such clear self-knowledge, as Ted Bundy” (p. v). Bundy’s interviews with Michaud and
Aynesworth (2000) began on March 27, 1980. However, they soon recognised that Bundy’s uncanny ability to dissociate, rationalise, and compartmentalise events was fundamental to grasping his complete mental construction (p. 17). At times, Bundy was extremely vague and evasive during his interviews. Whenever interviewers asked him direct questions about his crimes, Bundy often met their answers with a defensive reaction (Dawson, 2015). Dawson
(2015) furthermore claimed that Bundy was far more comfortable with answering implicitly, or circumventing questions he did not like. 126
Due to the above, Michaud and Aynesworth (2000) asked Bundy to speculate what the murderer did during each of his murders in the third person. This, in essence, would eliminate the confessional ‘I’. Bundy could thus legally avoid any admission of guilt whilst describing his crimes and revealing the workings of a serial killer’s mind (McGivern, 2015; Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2000). Ultimately, Bundy’s third person narrative enhanced many investigators’ understanding of him. It moreover provided valuable assistance in areas of research and murder investigations, which were being conducted by the Behavioural Science Unit (BSU) of the FBI.
In October 1984, Bundy also offered his assistance and self-proclaimed expertise to homicide detective, Robert Keppel, in their search for the Green River Killer (Michaud & Aynesworth,
2012; Keppel & Birnes, 2005).
Carole Ann Boone. After Kendall broke off her relationship with Bundy, a woman named
Carole Ann Boone replaced her almost instantaneously (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
Sullivan (2009) claimed that Bundy had a love-hate relationship with women – he wanted to erase the opposite sex by murdering them, but also wanted to be loved and admired by them.
Bundy had met Boone in 1974 while they were both working for the Department of Emergency
Services (DES). Their co-workers described Boone as having a vigorous and lively temperament and saw her as embodying a mother figure in the workplace. During their time at the DES,
Boone recalled that she was instantly attracted to Bundy’s sensitive, emotional nature (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2012).
While he was serving his prison sentence for the kidnapping of Da Ronch in 1977, Bundy and Boone kept in close contact through writing letters to one another, and called one another on every other day. Boone would even later send Bundy care packages during his lengthy stays in prison, and visited him on a regular basis. She claimed that over time, their friendship developed 127 into a meaningful, affectionate, and loving relationship (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Boone stood by Bundy’s side through all of his trials and convictions, and advocated for his innocence to the media every chance she could get. Her devotion and loyalty to Bundy was palpable, as she made him lunch on a daily basis, and attended each of his court appearances. She even relocated to Florida to be closer to the incarcerated Bundy (Rule, 2013). On February 9, 1980, which happened to be the anniversary of Kimberly Leach’s murder, Bundy and Boone exchanged vows. They got married during a court session while Boone was testifying on Bundy’s behalf
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). According to Michaud and
Aynesworth (2012), Bundy impregnated Boone behind a water-cooler in the prison’s visitation room somewhere in January 1982. She reportedly gave birth to a baby girl, Rosa, in October
1982.
Figure 17: Ted, Carole, and Rosa Bundy (n.d.). 128
However, once Bundy confessed to his crimes shortly before his scheduled death sentence,
Boone divorced him, changed her and Rosa’s names, and moved to a different, unknown location. She broke off all contact with Bundy and reportedly died in 2005 (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013).
Final confessions. Bundy maintained his innocence until January 23, 1989 – a day before his execution (Dawson, 2015). He finally confessed to multiple murders, of which he had been suspected of committing, as well as to a number of killings that were unknown to the FBI and other investigators. However, Bundy still rebuffed detectives’ efforts to talk about his acts of necrophilia, and adamantly denied being involved with the murders of Ann Marie Burr and
Kimberly Leach (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). The day prior to his execution, Bundy granted his final interview to Dr. James Dobson. He told Dobson that he blamed pornography for the development of violent crimes. He went on to say that if pornography had not been part of his life, he would have never progressed to such ruthless, sexual behaviour and murder (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rush, 2017). He furthermore stated that he had accepted the Lord, Jesus
Christ, as his Saviour, and hoped that other children being exposed to violence and sexual imagery on television would not end up in the same way he has (Rush, 2017).
Execution. On November 17, 1989, law enforcement issued Bundy’s final death warrant
(Dawson, 2015). After 18 appeals and 3 previous stays of execution in 1986, Bundy was finally executed on January 24, 1989 at 7:16 am via the electric chair (Dawson, 2015; Dobbert, 2009;
Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rippo, 2007). A total of 12 witnesses were present at his execution, which included state troopers, detectives, district attorneys, his attorney Jim Coleman, and Reverend Fred Lawrence. None of his family members witnessed his death (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). Bearak (1989) reported that an observing news anchor raised his hand as a 129 signal that Bundy was pronounced dead as he was leaving the Q-Wing of Florida State Prison.
Approximately 500 people who had gathered outside the prison, cheered at the news of Bundy’s successful execution. Some chanted ‘burn, Bundy, burn!’, while others banged on frying pans
(Bearak, 1989). It seemed that there was no sympathy for Bundy anywhere in the United States of America. Bundy’s last words were, “Jim and Fred, I’d like you to give my love to my family and friends” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
Figure 18: Spectators outside of Raiford Prison awaiting Bundy’s electrocution on 24 January 1989. Conclusion
This chapter provided a chronological portrayal of the life of Theodore Robert Bundy within the specific social and historical contexts in which he lived. By doing so, the researcher was able to capture what influences Bundy’s external environment and relationship dynamics had on his psychological development and subsequent behaviour. The following chapter considers 130
Kernberg’s theoretical framework in the exploration of Bundy’s life, through a psychological lens.
131
CHAPTER FOUR
THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK: OTTO KERNBERG’S OBJECT RELATIONS
THEORY
As a tree grows, the young tree that once was, never disappears; rather, layer by layer, comes to be superimposed on its core. Deep inside, the baby tree that it once was is still alive. The way in
which the young tree took shape, the forces that acted on it, the twists, turns and bends and breaks that have been caused by wind and rain, humans or disease, all determine the shape the tree assumes as it matures and ages. No matter how well it is cared for, it will never completely
outgrow any neglect when it was just a sapling. If we were to cut down and examine the innermost portion of this tree, we would discover that the young tree that it once was retains its
original form. What the young tree was, it will always be. What it was becomes the foundation
for what it will be. The adult tree retains this living core, having grown outward from it. If we
were to root out this central core, the tree would die, as the integrity of the tree depends on it
[for survival]. If the central core is weak and diseased, then no matter how expert the care, the adult tree will be as feeble as its foundation (Joseph, 2001, as cited in Berry-Dee, 2003, p. 343).
Chapter Preview
For this research study, the life and personality development of Theodore Robert Bundy is conceptualised and described according to the theoretical framework of Otto Kernberg’s (1966)
Object Relations Theory for the purpose of integration and the acquisition of a more comprehensive understanding of Cluster B personality disorders, and its relation to serial murder.
This chapter focuses on the various aspects of Kernberg’s theory by providing an in-depth overview of his systems model, and the five developmental stages, which he deems necessary for the formation of a healthy personality. The researcher moreover outlines the various 132 characteristics associated with optimal personality development, as well as character pathology, and pays special attention to the circumstances surrounding infancy and early childhood. She also details several defense mechanisms linked to pathological behaviour. Lastly, the researcher describes and discusses the levels of severity, and organisation of pathology according to
Kernberg’s view on dysfunctional personality development.
A Contextual Synopsis of the Theory: A Psychoanalytic Perspective
Throughout the last century, clinical literature orientated towards the fields of medicine, psychiatry, and psychology has witnessed an increasingly active debate centering on the etiology of personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and antisocial personality disorder (Shulman & Ferguson, 1988). A range of divergent theoretical perspectives, especially those founded on psychoanalytic premises, has gradually developed over time. The works of psychoanalytically inclined theorists such as Fairbairn (1952), Kernberg
(1975), Rothstein (1979), Masterson (1981), and Kohut (1984) have produced some of the most significant insights into personality development and pathology to date. Since the 1940s, the notion that individuals’ relationships with others forms an integral part of personality structure and organisation – whether they be past or present, real or imaginary – has gained extensive recognition, and has consequently led to the establishment of developmental theories of which
Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory is one of the most prominent (Mitchell, 1984). Generally, relational theories hold that the pursuit and maintenance of interactions between human beings serve as a motivational force for both normal personality development, as well as psychopathology. Thus, relational theories believe that the occurrence of dysfunction or trauma in the earliest relationship between an infant and its caretaker drastically impedes any subsequent, more complex relationships, and functions as a precursor for the development of 133 later personality disturbances (Bursten, 1989; Hare, 1986; Kernberg, 1989; Mitchell, 1984;
Stone, 1990).
For the purpose of this study, the researcher employed Otto Kernberg’s Object Relations
Theory (ORT) as her primary theoretical approach, and applied it to the life of Theodore Robert
Bundy in Chapters Seven and Eight. Kernberg is most popular for his detailed analysis of severely maladaptive personality disorders that belong to the cluster B personality configurations as presented in the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
(DSM-5) (Kernberg, 1989). More specifically, he focused on the exploration of narcissistic and borderline personality disorders that fall under the borderline personality organisation, which he postulated is the result of inadequate relations manifested in the first few years of life (that is, prior to the oedipal phase of development or three years of age) (Anderson, 2003; St. Claire,
1996). In his work, Kernberg integrated three psychoanalytically orientated schools of thought, namely Freud’s classic theory of drives (that is, instinctual sexual and aggressive energies that underlie cognitive activity and sequential behaviour), British non-drive theories, and American- based ego psychology (Kernberg, 1989). He also, however fleetingly, included elements of neurophysiology and biologically based psychology that advocates the role of genetics in ensuing behaviours (Carsky & Ellman, 1985). According to Carsky and Ellman (1985),
Kernberg’s contributions have produced some of the most systematic and extensive clinical and theoretical statements in the contemporary psychoanalytic community. His modern theoretical conception moreover holds value to research studies such as psychobiographies, as it has the ability to help explain perplexing behavioural patterns in a variety of subject-types (Anderson,
2003). Kernberg (1995b) corroborated the latter statement by maintaining that he emphasised the 134 uniqueness of the individual in his theory, as he “links psychoanalysis as a science with a humanistic philosophy of man” (Wisdom, 1971, as cited in Kernberg, 1995b, p. 116).
The researcher chose to use Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory as her primary point of conjecture, as it prioritises her belief that no man is an island. All human beings have an instinctive need to belong and to form meaningful relationships with others. These interactions, in combination with genetic endowment, are pivotal for psychological, as well as social development and wellbeing. Kernberg’s theory thus emphasises the role of nature and nurture, making it extremely useful in explaining abnormal behaviour and psychopathology (Milivojević
& Ivezić, 2004). The researcher is therefore of the opinion that Kernberg’s Object Relations
Theory can prove to be invaluable in its application to the life of Bundy.
In his theory, Kernberg devised a Systems Model of psychological development to explain the utility of object relations in connection with an individual’s overall personality construction
(Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). This model is described in detail in the following section.
Systems Model
Kernberg provided a conceptual framework that stresses the psychological structures and associated defense mechanisms of personality disorders. His theory places particular focus on narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and antisocial personality disorder that manifests in an individual’s character makeup; these disorders form part of his borderline personality configuration (Kernberg, 2004b). Kernberg moreover sees these pathologies as ranging on a developmental continuum of severity, which includes persons that exhibit healthy, adaptive, and flexible character traits, in addition to those who demonstrate pathological traits that are rigid, unstable, and malevolent (Christopher, Bickhard & Lambeth,
2001; Goth et al., 2012; Kernberg, 2004b). 135
In his ‘systems’ model of psychological development, Kernberg suggested that object relationships serve as the building blocks for overall personality construction (Kernberg &
Caligor, 2005). The object refers to any person, or representative quality of them, with which the subject (usually an infant) establishes an exceptionally intimate connection or bond. The relationship aspect then describes the emotionally charged interactions that occur between the subject and the object. In his writings, Kernberg referred to this emotional association with the object (or ‘image’ of the interaction between the self and the object) as an affective charge or valence that could either be negative or positive (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Initially, this interaction is formed between the infant and primary caregiver, and later extends to other, more complex relations such as with friends (Christopher et al., 2001; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005;
Kosciejew, 2013). Owing to the above, Kernberg and Caligor (2005) argued that object relations are didactic in nature, as they are made up of “a representation of the self, and the representation of another person, in interaction” (p. 117). Taken as a whole, these ‘object relations’ can thus be depicted as an accumulation of patterned representations or images that arise through the way in which the self relates to external objects continuously over time. This relation is linked to a particular affective state that is stored up, and integrated within the subject to shape a stable psychological structure or psychic apparatus, and consequently functions as a blueprint for establishing and maintaining future relationships and behavioural patterns – be they functional or dysfunctional (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
As previously mentioned, Kernberg argued that object relations (that is, patterns of interaction) are predominantly formed during the initial stages of early childhood between the infant and the primary caregiver. More specifically, he focused on how the infant internalises emotionally charged experiences while in continuous interaction with the object; or in this case, 136 the mother or primary caregiver (Snell, 2005). In the beginning, the infant only comprises of primitive or undifferentiated physiological reactions, which Kernberg (1975) expressed as
“inborn perceptive and behaviour patterns” (p. 87). Thus, something is either satisfactory or unsatisfactory in terms of their needs at any moment in time. The infant will, for example, cry when they are hungry, tired, uncomfortable, and sick, and vice versa (Sroufe, 1995). Kernberg
(1975) indicated that when the infant experiences a certain affect repeatedly in conjunction with a specific kind of interaction, those occurrences are deposited into their psyche as memory traces that hold specific affective tones. Kernberg (1998) referred to these affective memories as memory clusters or constellations (p. 185).
Accordingly, the emotional charge associated with a reciprocal experience causes the infant to encounter the object relation as either good – when needs are satisfied, or bad – when discomfort or frustration surfaces (Christopher et al., 2001). With reference to the latter,
Christopher et al. (2001) postulated that, “this valence colours all aspects of the infant’s perception of the self and others” (p. 691), and is the means by which the infant’s experiences then become organised into pleasurable or unpleasurable intrapsychic units. These ‘units’ gradually form “units of internalized object relations” in the infant’s developing psyche
(Christopher et al., 2001, p. 692). For instance, when the infant suffers the continual discomfort of having a dirty diaper due to an incompetent caregiver, they will organise the experience as a
‘bad unit’ in their affective memory. Conversely, the infant who persistently receives warmth and comfort after crying will categorise the experience as a ‘good unit’, as their caretaker met their instinctive needs.
Over time, the infant’s collection of good representations of the self and others merge to become the good internal object, while the bad representations of the self and others merge to 137 become the bad internal object. Kernberg termed this consolidation of separate units (or representations) into a good core and a bad core as the process of differentiation or agglutination
(Christopher et al., 2001, p. 691). Christopher et al. (2001) explained that the formation and internalisation of different affective units are crucial for personality development because they
“contain precursors of the intrapsychic structure, [and] effective representations of the ‘external’ world, the self, and the instincts” (p. 691). Kernberg (1984, as cited in Christopher et al., 2001) encapsulated the above-mentioned process by stating that each internalised object relations unit is a memory of an event that contains three major elements: (1) the individual’s image of the object, (2) the image of the self in interaction with an object, and (3) the accompanying affective tone of the object-image, as well as the self-image under the influence of the drive representative present at the time of the interaction (that is, libidinal or aggressive drive). The latter is depicted in Diagram 4.1.
138
Self- Intrapsychic
Representation Structure
Units of Object Object Internalised Representation Relations Object Relations
Affect Drive System
Diagram 4.1: Kernberg’s (1984) depiction of the elements contained in internalised object relations units. Adapted from Otto Kernberg’s object relations theory: A metaphysical critique by J.C. Christopher, M.H. Bickhard, and G.S. Lambeth, 2001, in Theory Psychology, 11(5), pp. 691. It is important to note that as individuals develop and encounter a range of people and environments, they accumulate an increased variety of object relations, which become imprinted and integrated within their developing psyche; this collection of object relations fuses with their basic genetic disposition, and ultimately determines their subjective perceptions and experiences, and behavioural approach when in contact with others (Caligor, Kernberg, & Clarkin, 2007;
Kernberg, 1998; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). It should also be noted that these object relations are shaped according to an individual’s subjective experiences and behaviour, rather than the actual, objective encounter (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Kernberg (1998) viewed this organisation and internalisation of object relations as the “mechanism of growth of the psychic apparatus” (that is, the id, ego, and superego) (p. 185). 139
As newborn infants do not possess a fully developed ego or superego, it is the task of the primary caregiver to help the infant to process, digest, or metabolise their activated emotive states that are linked to their object relations; the goal is to eventually sort and integrate those experiences as affective memories (Fonagy & Target, 1997). When the mother identifies with her child’s affective response, the infant is able to ‘mimic’ or internalise the mother’s
“contingent, accurate and differentiated emotional experience” (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p.
128). An example of this is when the infant smiles or laughs and the mother responds with positive facial cues, baby talk (or, child-directed speech), and physical touch in the form of tickling, kissing, or hugging (Fernald, 1985). As a result, the infant develops the ability to reflect on and affirm its own affective experiences as well as the affective conditions of others. This progression is furthermore supported by the infant’s cognitive development, as it stimulates their capacity for reasoning – an attribute that is vital in forming and maintaining relationships with others (Fonagy & Target, 1996; Fonagy, Gergely, Jurist & Target, 2005; Kernberg, 1998).
However, in instances where the mother struggles or refuses to empathise with, or mirror the infant’s emotional state accurately, Fonagy and Target (1996, as cited in Kernberg & Caligor,
2005) theorised that the infant’s ‘bad core’ becomes overstimulated, as there is an increase in the infant’s negative affective charge. This experience ultimately leads to personality pathology, as the child’s unmet needs fuel the manifestation of anxiety, frustration, and anger. The latter occurs in instances where the mother and infant’s emotional states do not correspond, for example, when the infant laughs or playfully gurgles, and the fatigued mother reprimands them for making too much noise (Fonagy et al., 2005).
Under normal circumstances, the infant’s good and bad internal object relations eventually integrate into a whole or integrative sense of self. This means that the infant has now developed 140 the capacity to see its caregiver as a whole object that both satisfies and frustrates, rather than only being able to perceive one characteristic of the real object at a time (that is, as an extension of the self). Thus, the child recognises that its caregiver is a separate individual with good and bad attributes, and that they cannot only be idealised or persecuted (St, Claire, 1996). This gradual integration of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ representations results in an increasingly complex and controlled affective disposition in the child (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
However, Kernberg and Caligor (2005) highlighted that the intrapsychic structures that develop from interactions vary according to the intensity of the affect experienced by the infant.
Their experiences can have either a high affective charge, or a low affective charge. Interactions that consist of a low affective charge serve as a conducive environment for “…reality-orientated, perception-controlled cognitive learning” on the part of the infant, which initially originates in their awareness of their own bodily functions, their position in space and time, and the enduring personal qualities of others (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 122). As these perceptions merge and become increasingly sophisticated within the child, the child progressively develops a greater capacity to cognitively register and evaluate the self in association with others (Kernberg &
Caligor, 2005). Conversely, psychological structures formed during high affective states are more orientated towards emotional development than logic and reasoning. Thus, it constitutes
“specific affective memory structures” or “internal object relations” that originate during the interactions between the infant and the caregiver (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 123). These structures hold immense value, as they form the foundation of the child’s most basic psychological motivation or drive systems, namely, libido and aggression (see Diagram 4.1)
(Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). One can therefore reason that high affective charges are also intimately connected to object relations that represent ‘forbidden’ impulses, fears or wishes that 141 are produced in fantasy. An example of this is feeling the need to attack someone physically who does not share his or her lunch with you even though you stipulated that you were hungry. The discomfort that such emotional charges create within the individual, in conjunction with the irrationality of the representation, causes these impulses or fantasies to be repressed into the individual’s unconscious and form part of the id. However, in instances where repression does not occur, these impulses and fantasies remain conscious, and are intensified when triggered by certain interactions. This leads to intensely charged, irrational interactions. Under these circumstances, one could conclude that the individual’s internal structures are generally unstable, and may cause personality pathology (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Process of Internalisation
As mentioned, Kernberg structured his developmental model around the premise of the internalisation of object relations – a process that he views as the means of personality formation and the subsequent behavioural patterns that develop from its unique configurations (Carsky &
Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1966, 1975, 1984). Schafer (1968) conceptualised the process of internalisation as “all those processes by which a subject transforms real or imagined regulatory interactions with the environment into inner regulations and characteristics” (p. 6). This means that the reoccurring interpersonal experiences that individuals are exposed to, especially during infancy, will ultimately shape their patterns of object relations – that is, the way that they interact with others (Christopher et al., 2001). However, Kernberg (2004c) cautioned that it is important to note that the infant or child does not internalise an image or representation of the object that they are in constant interaction with. Rather, the infant internalises the relationship that transpires between the self and the other, or the manner in which the self-image or self- representation communicates with an object-image or object-representation (Kernberg, 2004c). 142
In his work, Kernberg asserted that the process of internalisation consists of three consecutive stages or levels of identification systems that come to exist within the individual’s psychic apparatus (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1998; Kosciejew, 2013). These are introjection, identification, and ego identity (Chessick, 2015; Christopher et al., 2001). Each of these internalisation processes evolve into a fixed psychic structure once they have been completed. For example, the process of introjection produces introjects and so forth (Carsky &
Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1998). It is important to recapitulate that all the processes involved in the internalisation of object relations entail three indispensable components that present themselves during the course of interaction: (1) the subject’s image of the object, (2) the subject’s image of the self in interaction with the object, and (3) drive derivatives linked to particular affective charges (Kernberg, 1984). Below, the researcher explains the process of internalisation in detail.
Introjection. Introjection plays a pivotal role in the infant’s earliest development of the ego
(Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1998). It is the most primitive form of internalisation, as it results in the infant’s ‘absorption’ of basic object relation units – or ‘building blocks’, as
Kernberg called it (Christopher et al., 2001). As the most rudimentary process of internalisation,
Carsky and Elllman (1985, p. 15) hypothesised that introjects stem from “primary autonomous functions” such as perception and memory. Kernberg (1984) described introjection as the infant’s reproduction of an interaction with the environment by organising a cluster of memory traces that involve the basic components listed above (that is, the self, the self in interaction with the object, and the related affect). This means that through the process of introjection the infant internalised their repeated interactions with their primary caregiver as emotionally charged memory clusters within the psyche (Christopher et al., 2001). 143
Initially, the infant is only able to differentiate between interactions that are pleasurable or satisfying, and unpleasurable or dissatisfying. These conflicting affective states are kept separate from one another, as the psychic mechanisms existing prior to the infant’s developed ego are too weak and immature to merge them into an integrative whole (Christopher et al., 2001; Jacobson,
1964). Introjection is the “mechanism of growth of the psychic apparatus” used to build and strengthen the ego (Kernberg, 1984, p. 29). With the accumulation of positive and negative object relations units, the opposing valences progressively fuse to form two polar intrapsychic structures. The infant’s good representations of the self and others fuse to become the good internal object, whilst the bad or threatening representations of the self and others fuse to become the bad internal object (Kernberg, 1984, 2004a). Kernberg (1976, 1984) explained the latter as follows:
…introjections taking place under the positive valence of libidinal instinctual gratification,
as in loving mother-child contact, tend to fuse and become organised in what has been called
somewhat loosely, but suggestively ‘the good internal object.’ Introjections taking place
under the negative valence of aggressive drive derivatives tend to fuse with similar negative
valence introjections and become organized in the ‘bad’ internal object (p. 30).
Over the course of development, the beginnings of the ego “precipitate around the introjections”; as introjects build, and accumulate they become more complex, and ego boundaries become fixed (Christopher et al., 2001, p. 692). The solidification of the ego boundaries causes the ego to increase in strength. Consequently, the infant can start to integrate good and bad representations of the self and others to some extent (Christopher et al., 2001).
Kernberg and Caligor (2005) emphasised that although it is important for the infant to possess good and bad representations of the self and others, the predominance of good 144 representations is an important factor in healthy, or normal psychological development. This is because it creates in the individual a good core from which they can tolerate bad representations.
However, when bad representations are triggered, the child will still experience anxiety. This is because bad representations are contradictory to good representations, and the child’s experience of good representations are threatened by the presence of the bad (Grinnell, 2016; Kernberg &
Caligor, 2005). During infancy and early childhood, the defense mechanism of splitting is used to protect the good representations. At this point, splitting is a normal part of psychic development because the ego is still too weak to use more mature forms of defenses such as repression (Chessick, 2015). Thus, to protect their good object relations or experiences from contamination by the bad, they split off any threatening or intimidating representations and project it onto external objects via hostility or aggression (for example, when a toddler throws a tantrum) (Heiserman & Cook, 1998). However, in cases where the child possesses more negative object relations than positive ones, integration of good and bad representations does not occur.
Under these circumstances, the child will continue to use splitting as a defense mechanism indefinitely into adulthood (Kernberg, 1984, 1998; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Identification. The process of identification reflects a higher level of internalisation that occurs once the infant has succeeded in the development of introjects (Kernberg, 1984). In this phase of internalisation, the child has amassed the appropriate degree of perceptual awareness and cognitive functioning to recognise that different objects partake in different roles during interpersonal interactions. For example, when the mother performs certain actions continually with reference to the child (such as bathing them, or helping them to get clothed), she is not just interacting with them on an elementary level, but “actualizing the socially acceptable role of a mother” (Kernberg, 1984, p. 31). This level of internalisation is characterised by more elaborate 145 and differentiated emotional states due to lowered affective charges and a reduction in splitting after integration (Kernberg, 1998). Kosciejew (2013) stressed that one should be careful not to equate an identification with the entirety of an object (that is, with the person as a whole).
Rather, an infant constructs identifications based on certain identifiable behavioural aspects of an object that correspond to their particular instinctual urges or needs.
In a similar fashion to introjection, identifications merge together to enable growth of the psychic apparatus, and to act as a defensive mechanism to protect the infant’s developing ego
(Kernberg, 1984). Given that identifications suggest the internalisation of social roles, it is reasonable to expect the infant to manifest or reenact these roles in their day-to-day behaviour.
The child thus incorporates these “passively experienced roles” as part of their own self-image, and also applies them to their image or representation of the object (Kernberg, 1984, p. 31).
Kernberg (1998) indicated that identifications initially emerge in the final months of the infant’s first year, but are only established during the course of their second year of life.
Ego identity. Ego identity is the highest level of organisation within Kernberg’s process of internalisation. Due to the solidification of ego boundaries, the individual is now better equipped to integrate good and bad representations (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). This ultimately results in a more cohesive sense of self, or identity integration (Kernberg, 1984; St. Claire, 1996). This integration happens gradually over time, and leads to the formation of whole objects. This means that the child no longer relates to its primary caregiver or others as part objects or as an extension of the self, but as separate human beings that possess positive and negative attributes simultaneously (St. Claire, 1996). Thus, there is an “integration of persecutory and idealizing structures” (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 126). As a result, there is a decreased tendency of the 146 individual to use splitting as a defense mechanism when they perceive an interaction as threatening to their positive experience of the self (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
When an individual employs splitting as a defense, it interferes with and restricts the process of integration and the consolidation of the id, ego, and superego structures. This subsequently leads to developmental disturbances such as personality pathology, and identity diffusion
(Clarkin, Lenzenweger, Yeomas, Levy & Kernberg, 2007). Under normal circumstances, the development of whole objects allows splitting, seen as a primitive defense mechanism, to be replaced by repression, a healthier, more sophisticated defense that does not inhibit the process of integration. This means that when threatening or negative object relations are triggered, they are repressed to the unconscious rather than experienced consciously. They are thus “more likely to be experienced as potentially dangerous or destructive aspects of the self, rather than dangers coming toward the self”; this makes the propensity to project largely redundant (Kernberg &
Caligor, 2005, p. 127). Thus, the consequent anxiety, discomfort, or frustration that an individual feels during the triggering of ‘bad’ internal object relations stimulates the activation of repression, and transfers any threats towards the ego into the unconscious (Kernberg & Caligor,
2005). Clarkin et al. (2007) moreover postulated that integration causes an individual to experience a more balanced and modulated emotional state in everyday life. This is because the process of integrating positive and negative object representations progressively tones down the associated positive and negative affective charges that the individual once felt very intensely
(that is, before integration occurred) (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Integration furthermore alters an individual’s primitive needs, desires, and prohibitions to become more realistic and socially acceptable (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). 147
As the individual’s ego matures and their internalisations become more rational and moderated, the development of their superego also occurs (Clarkin et al., 2007). Before integration, the child experiences a series of internalisations that portrays others as having the ability to punish and restrict their behaviours, as well as the internalisation of ideal representations of the self and others. Integration results in a more realistic and integrated set of morals and prohibitions within the individual that facilitates the “parallel development in the system of internalized values” (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 126). Thus, a more mature system of internalised values is established.
Developmental Stages
According to Kernberg (1976), the process of forming an integrated sense of self covers approximately the first three years of life. He postulated that this process is dependent on five developmental stages through which the individual systematically progresses (see Diagram 4.2 below). These are (1) normal autism, (2) normal symbiosis, (3) differentiation of self from object relations, (4) integration of self-representations, and (5) consolidation of superego and ego integration, respectively (Kernberg, 1976). The researcher summarised these stages below.
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Physiological Units
Stage I Undifferentiated Self-Object Representations
‘Good’ Self- ‘Good’ Self- Stage II Object Unit Object Unit
Stage ‘Good’ ‘Good’ ‘Bad’ ‘Bad’ III Self Object Self Object
Stage Integrated Self- Total Object IV Concept Relations
Consolidation of Superego and Ego Stage V Integration
Diagram 4.2: An illustration of Kernberg’s five developmental stages. Adapted from Otto Kernberg’s object relations theory: A metaphysical critique by J.C. Christopher, M.H. Bickhard, & G.S. Lambeth, 2001, Theory Psychology, 11(5), pp. 687-711. Stage 1 – Normal autism. This stage occurs during the first month of the infant’s life, and is also known as primary undifferentiation (Carsky & Ellman, 1985). St. Claire (1996) detailed that this initial period of development is characterised by the infant’s inability to discriminate the self from external objects. This means that there is a complete lack of self-representations or 149 object images, as the infant is only accustomed to automatic, instinctual responses. Thus, no object relations exist (Kernberg, 1984). A good example of this undifferentiated state occurs when an infant mistakes their own thumbs for their mother’s breasts, which their mouths inadvertently locate and suck in an attempt to satisfy their physical hunger (St. Claire, 1996).
Stage 2 – Normal symbiosis. Normal symbiosis is what Kernberg (1984) considered “the stage of primary, undifferentiated self-object representations” (p. 60). This stage roughly occurs between the ages of two and six to eight month period of development (Chessick, 2015). During this phase, the infant is unable to discern itself from its primary caregiver. Rather, the infant perceives external objects to be extensions of the self, or as forming part of the self. The infant thus sees itself as being ‘one’ with its mother (St. Claire, 1996). Due to this perceived fusion of the self and other, the infant is only capable of separating incoming object relations as either good or bad representations (Carsky & Ellman, 1996; Chessick, 2015; Christopher et al., 2001).
A good or gratifying representation, for example, is established when the infant suckles on their mother’s breast, while a bad or unpleasurable representation may form in instances where the infant experiences the discomfort of a trapped wind and needs to be burped by their mother. As the infant does not yet have the ability to integrate conflicting affects, it is necessary for them to isolate libidinally invested representations that offer pleasure from aggressively invested representations associated with discomfort, frustration, or pain (Chessick, 2015; Christopher et al., 2001). As the infant slowly starts to distinguish itself from others, they move into the third stage of development.
Stage 3 – Differentiation of self from object relations. This stage commences when the infant is approximately six to eight months old and ends during the 18 to 36 month age period
(Christopher et al., 2001). This developmental phase is indicative of a clear and consistent 150 separation of the infant’s self and object representations (Kernberg, 1998). Here, the infant’s
‘good’ representations are actively divided into a good self and a good object, and their ‘bad’ representations are divided into a bad self and a bad object (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Christopher et al., 2001). This division, in combination with the child’s cognitive development, promotes the generation of “stable ego boundaries” (Kernberg, 1998, p. 596), and allows for the construction of an assortment of self-representations and associated object-representations that are activated during a variety of situations (Kernberg, 1998).
However, the child is still not able to integrate opposing representations and their accompanying affective charges, and thus employ splitting as a defense mechanism to “protect their ideal, good relationships from ‘contamination’ by bad self-representations and bad object representations” (Kernberg, 1976, p. 67). These threatening representations are then projected onto the outside world, rather than inflicted on the self; the predominance of bad self and –object representations may cause to the child to experience excessive anxiety (Kernberg & Caligor,
2005). Kernberg (1984) highlighted that splitting is regarded as a “normal mechanism of development” during this stage and does not imply psychopathology (Christopher et al., 2001, p.
694). Instead, splitting is necessary at this age, as it facilitates the achievement of well- constructed, stable ego boundaries and object constancy (Hartmann, 1964). Carsky and Ellman
(1985) moreover emphasised that the infant’s object relationships are still with part objects and not with whole objects, as they are just capable of viewing others as ‘all good’ or ‘all bad’ and not as a combination of both. Only once integration of good and bad representations starts to occur, does the infant progress to stage four.
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Stage 4 – Integration of self-representations and object-representations. This stage begins at around 36 months and extends throughout the entirety of the oedipal period (that is, approximately until the sixth year of life) (Berzoff, 2008; Kernberg, 1976). At this point, the child’s intrapsychic structures have developed to such a degree that it is safe enough for them to start integrating conflicting representations that they have of themselves and others (Chessick,
2015; Christopher et al., 2001; Kernberg, 1976, 2001). Thus, their good and bad self- representations merge to establish a “definite self-system” and their good and bad object-images fuse to form “total object-representations” (Kernberg, 1976, p. 67). This means that they now have the ability to perceive someone as a whole object that comprises of positive and negative personality traits simultaneously. The child can for example, recognise that although their mother can sometimes become angry or irritated, she is still a loving and caring parent. Likewise, the child can identify that although they possess unfavourable characteristics such as impatience or laziness, they also have good qualities such as humility and compassion (Scott & Davenport,
2018). The process of integration thus leads to the establishment of cohesive and balanced self- representations, as well as stable and consolidated object-representations that involve the individual’s perception of others, and the external environment in which they interact (Kernberg,
2001).
Carsky and Ellman (1985) stated that the process of integration allows the child to retain a mental impression of its own complex intrapersonal experiences, as well as of their interpersonal experiences with others that is more accurate and realistic. An additional outcome of integration is the neutralisation of drive derivatives (Christopher et al., 2001; Summers, 2014). This allows for a more integrated and modulated emotional experience, and a more “nuanced conception of the self and others”, while freeing up energy resources that can be used for repression 152
(Christopher et al., 2001; Clarkin et al., 2007, p. 476). The aforementioned enables the child to identify and discriminate between persecutory, realistic, and idealistic representations of the self and others (Clarkin, 2007; Kernberg, 1998). Kernberg (1998) highlighted that this ability is of immense importance, as it assists the child in developing the capacity to experience guilt. This is because they are capable of separating and differentiating between who they inherently are, and who they aspire (and are encouraged) to be. Thus, in instances where they fail to realise that idealistic self-image, it creates feelings of guilt. The experience of guilt may also prompt depressive episodes in the individual, as a certain degree of friction exists between realistic and idealistic self-representations. Ultimately, this means that the child may feel very despondent and guilt-ridden when things do not turn out as they anticipated or imagined it to be (Kernberg, 1995,
1998). These feelings are, however, not unwelcome. In fact, it facilitates and reinforces the growth of the child’s superego, and improves the overall development of their moral compass
(Cherry, 2017). This particular psychological progression is related to the individual’s increased ability to instantaneously judge whether something is right or wrong, and guides them to act accordingly (Henriques, 2012).
Essentially, the integration of good and bad representations, together with the modulation of affective charges, is indicative of a resilient and stronger ego structure. Thus, it is no longer necessary for the ego to defend its good representations from presumably threatening objects and anxiety-provoking situations. Once integrations have formed within the individual’s psyche, the use of splitting as a defense mechanism typically becomes obsolete, and is replaced by more mature means of coping such as repression where threatening representations are repressed into the “dynamic unconscious” (that is, the id) (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 127). Kernberg and
Caligor (2005) however, highlighted that an integrated psyche does not equal immunity to the 153 experience of anxiety. The individual has merely developed healthier responses to external triggers that induce anxiety and fear. One should moreover recognise that repression is vital to the functioning and growth of the ego. When representations are integrated into the psyche in a continual and sufficient fashion, it facilitates the formation and development of a stable ego identity. Thus, the psyche has the opportunity to expand through the establishment of the id, ego, and superego structures (Kernberg, 1995, 1998). These structures are discussed below.
The id. As previously mentioned, early object relations may initially present as extremely overwhelming or threatening to the infant. These object relations constitute high emotional charges that the infant cannot, at the outset, modulate or assimilate within their vulnerable psyche (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). When integration does, however, start to occur, many of the child’s intense, or inappropriate representations, which are often “extreme manifestations of erotic, dependent, and aggressive impulses” (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 129), are not integrated successfully, and are subsequently “rejected by the developing ego” (Christopher et al., 2001, p. 695). This is because these overly aggressive or libidinal drives are very primitive, and stand in opposition to morally appropriate behaviour that is generally accepted during social encounters with others (Christopher et al., 2001).
By this stage, the ego has begun to form an identity or sense of self that comprises of an intrinsic value system. It thus has the ability to assume control of the individual’s rejection process. As a result, the child represses any representations that they perceive as threatening or distressing to themselves or others into the id (that is, the inaccessible part of our psyche)
(Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). These representations are thus banished from the conscious experience of the self, and are disconnected from the individual’s conscious awareness
(Kernberg, 1998). The aforementioned facilitates the solidification of the ego, rendering it less 154 unstable, unpredictable, impulsive, or irrational in the face of intense, unrealistic, or anxiety- provoking representations (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
The superego. The child’s superego progresses through various phases that systematically build on each other as the child develops (Bouchard & Lecours, 2008; Kernberg & Caligor,
2005). These phases can be understood as ‘layers’ that are likened to the degree of morality and societal values and rules that the individual will ultimately embody and apply in their everyday life (Meyer et al., 2008; Mitchell, 2015). According to Kernberg and Caligor (2005), the superego starts to emerge during the third developmental stage of this model (that is, when the child starts to differentiate the self from their object relations). This stage parallels the ‘first layer’ of the child’s superego development where bad or threatening representations are split off and projected outward onto an external object or the environment. Considering that the child is still in their infancy, these projected representations are typically images of the primary caregiver
(for example, the mother) that are loaded with punitive or distressing valences (Kernberg, 1995;
Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Once the infant has projected these threatening images outwards, they reintroject these representations by turning them against the self. This is done with the purpose of protecting the idealised representation of the mother, where the mother is, under all circumstances, good, loving, and just (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1998).
After the proper establishment of the first superego layer, the child progresses into the fourth
– and current – developmental stage (that is, the integration of self-representations and object representations). This stage corresponds with the inception of the second superego layer. At this point, the child’s ideal self and ideal object-representations merge to form the ego ideal, and integrate with the first layer of the superego that consists of punitively charged representations
(Kernberg, 1995; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Clarkin et al. (2007) detailed that these conflicting 155 representations (that is, ideal versus punitive images) lead to “a succession of internalizations of the other as punishing and prohibitive, followed by ideal representations of self and other” (p.
475). This means that the child’s psyche has become sophisticated enough as to allow for the integration of good and bad representations; thus, they can view others as whole objects that possess strengths and weaknesses in their character makeup (St. Claire, 1996). Once this aforementioned integration takes place, the child unconsciously represses certain aspects of the merged objects (that is, those that satisfy and frustrate) into the superego; consequently, a new, integrated superego layer is formed (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). This second layer of the superego (consisting of ideal and prohibitory representations) prompts the child’s capacity for experiencing guilt, and can subsequently place pressure on the ego to act realistically by controlling and balancing the conflicting forces that are the id and superego (Meyer et al., 2008).
Thus, when the child’s actual self-image fails to meet the standards of their ideal representations, pressure is placed on the ego, and the child experiences this sense of tension as guilt (Kernberg,
2004b, 2009).
The third (and final) layer of the superego only emerges once the superego manifests the ability to place pressure on the ego to act appropriately under any given situation. Thus, when the child does not act according to their ideal representations, the ego, pressed by the superego, projects the resulting guilt outwards onto another person or the environment. The child then unconsciously reintrojects their feelings of guilt back into the superego (Kernberg, 1995, 1998).
Kernberg and Caligor (2005) explained that the more the reintrojection of guilt takes place within the individual, the more their superego is able to grow and mature. This maturational process causes the superego to become more organised, and is demonstrated through the child’s capacity to interpret and internalise their caregivers’ prohibitions and demands from a more 156 realistic and emotionally controlled perspective. Thus, as the superego evolves, the child’s self – and object representations are less retaliatory and more rational. The child moreover possesses a fixed system of internalised ethical and moral values where they are able to regulate and restrict aggressive reactions through their matured affects regarding guilt and distress (Kernberg, 2010).
Kernberg (1995) furthermore highlighted that the aforementioned indicates a more depersonified and abstract superego than in earlier developmental stages. This is because the individual now identifies their accepted ideals, beliefs, and moral values as forming part of their own identity, and not as coming from an external object. Thus, in cases where the individual’s superego development is hampered, an external locus of control is continuously employed. By taking the above-mentioned into consideration, one can conclude that a highly developed, healthy superego equates to taking responsibility for one’s actions. This is because the individual has acquired a realistic awareness of their own thoughts, feelings, and behaviours, and have consequently gained the ability to self-reflect and self-critisise without doing permanent damage to their overall ego identity (Kernberg, 2004b). They moreover have the capacity to accommodate the perceptions and beliefs of others without feeling threatened or insignificant, as they possess an inherent sense of flexibility when it comes to dealing with controversial or contradictory issues that may impinge on their own value systems (Kernberg, 2004b). Once the third layer of the superego is secured within the individual’s psychic structure, the superego as a whole starts to manage the ego’s conscious decision-making processes. Thus, it puts continuous pressure on the ego to integrate conflicting tendencies that do not necessary relate to the individual’s current ego identity. The latter ultimately creates a more congruent internal environment in the individual (Kernberg, 1995). 157
The ego. Under the careful supervision of the superego, the ego is able to organise the child’s self –and object representations appropriately. This signals the establishment of a secure ego identity that ultimately leads to the consolidation of the child’s psychic structures (that is, the id, ego and superego) (Kernberg, 1998). Molouki and Bartels (2017) stated that the formation of an ego identity is of great importance during personality development, as it facilitates the individual in experiencing a sense of continuity of the self, and of others. This means that the person’s view of themselves and their perception of the self in relation to others and their environment are consistent over time (Kernberg, 1976; Molouki & Bartels, 2017). The latter, however, does not occur in borderline individuals, as they regularly oscillate between different emotional states depending on the situations they find themselves in. Kernberg (1984) moreover detailed that the consolidation of the child’s id, ego, and superego into permanent, well-defined, intrapsychic structures starts to occur in the fifth and final stage of psychic development. The researcher discusses this stage below.
Stage 5 – Consolidation of superego and ego integration. According to Chessick (2015), this final stage of development occurs around the ages of five to seven years, or when the oedipal phase crystalises. During this period, the id, ego, and superego become definitively consolidated as fixed intrapsychic structures (Kernberg, 2001). This fosters the continual assimilation, growth and reshaping of the child’s ego identity where self-representations are repeatedly modified as they develop into unique human beings. Growth is further facilitated via the individual’s general cognitive development, as well as through their exposure to a variety of new experiences, and interaction with new external objects (this includes social groups as well as cultural representations) (Carsky & Ellman, Holmes, 2015; 1985; Kernberg, 1976, Kernberg, 1998).
Carsky and Ellman (1985) explained the latter statements: 158
The [child’s] internal world gives increasing meaning to present interactions and provides
support for the individual in times of crisis [such as loneliness, failure, loss, or
abandonment]. The individual [now] has the capacity to discriminate subtle aspects of him –
or herself and of others and develops “depersonified” attitudes and values with an increased
capacity to communicate views and experiences in a way that others can understand. These
capacities are absent in pathological conditions (p. 22).
As previously mentioned, the above explanation is dependent on the development of a sound superego, which is formed through layers of object relations that are integrated within the child’s psyche over time. Clarkin et al (2007) explicated that a superego that has successfully reached maturation functions as an internalised value system that facilitates the individual to stay committed to their own embedded values rather than to be reliant on external sources of approval or validation. The realisation of the latter leads to a strengthened ego and supports the growth of a well-defined self-concept (Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1976).
The unification of the intrapsychic structures (that is the id, ego, and superego) results in a harmonious internal environment. Thus, the intense opposition that existed between the ego and superego becomes weakened and is replaced by a consolidated, strengthened ego identity
(Chessick, 2015). Due to this, the individual no longer needs to rely on splitting as a defense mechanism during anxiety-provoking situations, as any threat towards the ego can now be repressed into the unconscious (Christopher et al., 2001). Kernberg and Caligor (2005) viewed repression as a defensive technique that is vital to normal personality development and functioning as it allows for “both aggressive and libidinal elements of the internalization process that are rejected by the developing ego, to be deposited into the id” (p. 122).
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Levels of Personality Development
Earlier in the chapter, the researcher made mention of the fact that Kernberg viewed personality functioning on a developmental continuum or spectrum, which ranges from optimally healthy to severely pathological (Christopher et al., 2001). Clarkin, Yeomans, and Kernberg (2006) stated that the degree of personality development and organisation that transpires is largely dependent on the amount of integration that has taken place within the individual’s psyche. In addition, one can observe an individual’s mode of defensive operation to determine their level of personality functioning. Perry and Bond (2005) defined defense mechanisms as “an individual’s automatic psychological response to internal or external stressors or emotional conflict” (p. 523). All people subconsciously employ some form of psychological defense to reshape their subjective experience in such a way that it places less stress on their ego (Caligor, Kernberg & Clarkin,
2007).
The difference, however, is that those who function optimally use mature defenses to minimise anxiety-provoking or threatening representations, whereas those inclined to pathology continue to make use of primitive defense mechanisms to protect their idealised or ‘perfect’ self from external reality (Clarkin et al., 2007). Examples of mature defenses include repression, intellectualisation2, rationalisation3, humour, and sublimation4 (Meyer et al., 2008). Defenses that ultimately lead to image-distortion, such as splitting, projective identification, omnipotence, omnipotent control, primitive idealization, devaluation, and denial, are all associated with
2 Unconsciously denying emotionality by replacing it with logical reasoning. 3 The justification or validation of undesirable behaviours or feelings through the creation of rational explanations (also known as ‘making excuses’) to make them seem more admissible, or even admirable. 4 The unconscious transference of negative or socially unacceptable impulses and behaviours into positive, socially acceptable thoughts and actions. 160 personality pathology to some degree (Caligor et al., 2007; Clarkin et al., 2007). Optimal and pathological personality development are discussed in more detail in the following sections.
Optimal Development
When individuals’ develop in a normal or healthy manner, their thoughts, emotions, and behavioural sequences and reactions are coherent and modulated over time (John, Robins &
Pervin, 2008). In terms of Kernberg’s ORT, Clarkin et al. (2007) identified four distinct characteristics that individuals exhibit when their psychological development is ‘optimal’. These are (1) an integrated concept of the self and others, (2) a broad spectrum of affective experiences,
(3) an internalised value system, and (4) satisfactory management of libidinal and aggressive impulses.
An integrated concept of the self and others. Individuals who possess a relatively stable or normal personality organisation encompass not only an integrated concept of the self, but also of significant others. This dualistic integration is directly linked to the notion of a well-rounded ego identity, and is reflected in the individual’s ability to remain coherent in intrapersonal as well as interpersonal realms (Clarkin et al., 2006; Erikson, 1956; Kernberg, 2004b). When internal object relations are integrated to form a coherent self, the result is a positive self-esteem, self- satisfaction, and an enthusiastic outlook on life in general. Having a sense of self-coherence moreover motivates an individual to achieve their innate abilities or natural talents, and to fulfill their desires and long-term goals and commitments (Clarkin et al., 2006; Kernberg, 2004b).
Likewise, an integrated conception of others provides an individual with the ability to evaluate others in an appropriate and realistic manner, and allows them to engage with others empathically across different situations. This external sense of coherence also assures a healthy emotional investment in others, which indicates that the individual can exercise a mature form of 161 dependency while still appreciating their autonomy and freedom (Caligor et al., 2007; Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg, 2004b).
A broad spectrum of affective experiences. A well-developed personality structure demonstrates variability in emotional responses during interactions with others (Clarkin et al.,
2007). The individual is able to experience a broad range of affective dispositions (that become progressively more complex), which is associated with ego strength, as the individual can regulate their emotions and impulses satisfactorily (Kernberg, 2004b). Kernberg and Caligor
(2005) corroborated the latter statement by asserting that, “even relatively intense affective experiences do not lead to [the healthy individual’s] loss of impulse control” (p. 121).
Individuals who possess a well-modulated spectrum of affective charges moreover have the ability to express their thoughts and feelings in a creative, persistent, and consistent manner in their interpersonal relationships, as well as in their work environment (Kernberg, 2004b;
Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
An internalised value system. A third indication of normal or healthy personality development is “the presence of an integrated system of internalized values” that makes up the mature superego of the individual (Clarkin et al., 2006, p. 3; Kernberg, 2004b). This internalised set of values is not solely dependent on parental morals and tenets that the individual acquired unconsciously as an infant. Instead, it represents a stable, internal structure that is individualised, depersonalised, and abstract (Kernberg, 2004b). This means that the individual’s value system
(or superego structure) is self-determining and detached from interpersonal relationships with others (Clarkin et al., 2006). Such an internalised value system manifests itself in various ways.
Firstly, it allows the individual to take personal responsibility for their actions. It moreover provides them with the ability to be self-critical in a realistic and constructive manner. Their 162 decision-making processes are also enhanced as they are flexible and based on integrity and a commitment to moral values, standards, and ideals (Kernberg, 2004b). Lastly, it contributes to ego functions that relate to “reciprocity, trust, and investment in depth in relationships with others” (Kernberg, 2004b, p. 8).
Satisfactory management of libidinal and aggressive impulses. The last characteristic associated with optimal personality development is the appropriate and sufficient regulation of libidinal and aggressive drive derivatives (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Here, the individual has the ability to express their sexual needs and desires in a socially acceptable way. Generally, healthy individuals succumb to their libidinal impulses through tenderness, physical affection, romantic gestures, and long-term emotional commitments towards their partner(s). These sexually orientated actions are usually accompanied by a normal degree of idealisation concerning the other person and the relationship itself (Kernberg, 2004b). Kernberg (2004b) reasoned that, “…freedom of sexual expression is integrated with ego identity and the ego ideal”
(p. 9).
In terms of aggressive impulses, Kernberg (2004b) asserted that the healthy individual channels or transfers negative, hostile wishes or desires towards something positive or constructive such as painting or writing poetry. Thus, their aggressive impulses are sublimated through self-assertion. As the individual’s ego and superego have developed to a satisfactory extent, these structures are able to contribute towards the creation of internal harmony or equilibrium. This, in turn, allows the individual to withstand personal attacks or confrontations from others without overreacting, and gives them the ability to react in a protective manner
“without turning aggression against the self” (Kernberg, 2004b, p. 9).
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Pathology
Thus far, the researcher has largely delineated the ideal circumstances surrounding the development of object relations. Yet, in reality, there are a myriad of external, as well as internal and genetic factors, which have the ability to impede or disturb the formation of an individual’s psychological structures and overall personality construction. In his work, Kernberg specified that character pathology is primarily the result of an individual’s inability to integrate self –and object representations that comprise of opposite affective charges. This failure to integrate is better known as identity diffusion (Clarkin et al., 2007). The level of psychopathology that transpires within an individual is dependent on the degree to which they have integrated various elements within their psyche – especially during their formative years, or infancy (Heiserman &
Cook, 1998). According to Kernberg (1984), developmental disturbances or difficulties that originate during the third stage of character formation, generally function as precursors for later personality dysfunction. This is because stage three takes place before the infant has the ability to create whole objects, that is, when the individual still lacks the ability to integrate their good and bad representations successfully. Thus, pathological object relationships develop where the individual only has the capacity to ascribe “partial character traits” to others rather than experiencing them as normal human beings with character strengths and weaknesses (Hamilton,
1999; Kernberg, 1969, p. 804). In due course, this inability to tolerate good and bad representations simultaneously, leads to identity diffusion (Kernberg, 2004a). Kernberg (2004a) furthermore indicated that the failure to integrate good and bad representations suppresses the individual’s ability to experience concern and guilt towards others. When these qualities are deficient in the individual, their capacity for suffering true loss is also diminished. Thus, they truly struggle to mourn the loss of an object (whether it be emotionally or physically), and to feel 164 depressed about it (Kernberg, 2004a). To them, the lost object was expendable, as they merely held superficial value in terms of gratifying the subject’s needs instantaneously. Under these circumstances, the individual generally feels “impotent rage and defeat by external forces” rather than depression over the loss of good objects (Kernberg, 2004a, p. 34).
The lack of integration is most likely due to high innate aggression (that is, a biological predisposition), the experience of excessive anxiety and frustration that originated from unmet early instinctual needs (such as warmth, hunger, or physical touch), or a pattern of psychological or physical abuse that disrupted early interactions (Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg & Caligor,
2005; Lakritz, 2009). This leads to the predominance of negative emotions, and the creation of object relations with negative valences, which ultimately threaten the individual’s initial positive view of the self and others (Heiserman & Cook, 1998; Lakritz, 2009). To protect their limited good object relations or experiences from ‘danger’ or ‘contamination’, the child develops primitive defense mechanisms such as splitting and projective identification (Anderson, 2003).
Other primitive defenses used in instances of identity pathology include “omnipotence, omnipotent control, primitive idealization, devaluation, and denial” (Clarkin et al., 2007, p. 480).
These defenses are typically employed to complement or reinforce the individual’s use of splitting and projective identification (Clarkin et al., 2007). When an individual continues to make use of these primitive defenses into adulthood, it becomes pathological, and may ultimately lead to the development of personality disorders, particularly disorders within the borderline personality organisation (Kernberg, 1976). These individuals rely on distorted images of the self and the external world to ‘survive’ or function in daily life (Christopher et al., 2001;
Clarkin et al., 2007; Heiserman & Cook, 1998). These defense mechanisms will now be discussed. 165
Splitting. In earlier sections, the researcher pointed out that the psychological defense mechanism of splitting is a normal part of development – especially during the first year of life
(Kernberg, 1975, 1998; St Claire, 1996). St Claire (1996) substantiated this assumption by explaining that, “infants make use of splitting to help order chaotic early life experiences…thus, early splitting refers to the maturational inability to synthesize incompatible experiences into a whole” (p. 8). As a result, the infant only has the potential to retain one affective experience in their untrained awareness at a time. These affective experiences are usually in stark contradiction to each other, and therefore only allow the infant to form representations or images of a part object (Meissner, 1980). For example, when the infant experiences frustration due to the negative response or behaviour of an object, they can only perceive that object as frustrating or bad. Even though that same object has also caused the infant to feel pleasure, this quality is (for the time being) expelled from their awareness. Accordingly, the infant then employs splitting to isolate opposing affective experiences activated in their internal world (St. Claire, 1996). The psychologically healthy infant’s tendency to split becomes obsolete once they progress to later stages of development; they thus replace splitting with more mature defenses such as repression or sublimation (Christopher et al., 2001).
In terms of pathology, however, splitting continues for longer than developmentally appropriate. Kernberg (1984) asserted that splitting becomes problematic when it prevents the ego from proper development. When an individual’s ego is overwhelmed by negative representations, their ability to integrate positive and negative object relations is debilitated, causing a radical split between contradictory valences. This means that they find it exceptionally difficult to process the fact that someone can possess good and bad qualities simultaneously; this is also true for the self (Clarkin et al., 2007; Johnson, 1991). The result of this splitting is thus the 166 compartmentalisation of conflicting aspects of the self and others to reduce, or completely avoid, any form of emotional threat directed towards the internal self (Caligor et al., 2007; Kernberg,
1984, 1998; Perlow, 1995; Sutherland, 1963).
In instances where the individual experiences himself or herself as good and just, it is unproblematic, but when they perceive themselves as bad, it causes them to suffer extreme psychological distress, and triggers a particular ego state that leads to an immediate transference reaction associated with “the specific internalised object relationship” (Kernberg, 1998, p. 79).
This overwhelming sense of ‘danger’ approaching the individual’s fragile ego needs to be eliminated in order for them to reduce their sense of anxiety, and to protect their good core from their bad core. Thus, the individual splits off any threatening or bad representations and projects it onto others (Kernberg, 2001). The “disassociation of idealized and persecutory aspects of experience” moreover results in image distortion, and thus interferes with the individual’s ability to process their perceptions of the external world accurately (Caligor et al., 2007).
As the outcome of this splitting process is an inability to establish integrations, affective charges cannot be neutralised or modulated. Rather, the individual repeatedly experiences abrupt and radical oscillations between different cognitive-affective states. This means that they experience intense emotions that continuously fluctuate, and that are overstated when compared to the situation they find themselves in (Clarkin et al., 2007). In extreme cases, this manifests itself as emotional lability, aggression, interpersonal chaos, impulsive, self-destructive behaviours, and proneness to lapses in social reality testing (Clarkin et al., 2007). Lastly,
Kernberg (2004a) highlighted that an individual whom is prone to splitting, will also demonstrate a “bland denial and lack of concern over the contradiction in his behaviour and internal experience” (p. 28). 167
Projective identification. Individuals with a borderline personality organisation are also inclined to employ the primitive defense mechanism of projective identification during their interactions with others (Kernberg, 1995b). In his book ‘Borderline Conditions and Pathological
Narcissism’, Kernberg (1985) explained that the rationale behind this act of unconscious projection is to discharge any unmanageable or intolerable qualities of the self (that is, the bad or aggressive self) into the external object. This is done to protect their fragile ‘good’ ego from contamination by threatening self or object images, and to alleviate the anxiety that these objects unwittingly cause the individual to experience (Clarkin et al., 2006). Put simply, the individual splits off ‘dangerous’ or bad aspects of the internal self into the external object, or other person whom they are in interaction with, “so that the projected aspects of the self are [rather] experienced as part of the other person” (Caligor et al., 2007, p. 29). Thus, the individual deals with their overwhelming sense of emotional discomfort by falsely ascribing their own unacceptable thoughts, feelings, behaviours, or impulses to another person. As the individual has now projected some of their own undesirable qualities or emotions into another person, they are able to identify with that person, and try to control the projected aspect in themselves in the other person (Clarkin et al., 2007; Straker, 2010). This, in turn, makes it easier for them to separate or dissociate themselves from their own insecurities or inappropriate emotions and cognitions, and allows them to maintain an impeccable, flawless view of the self. Göka, Yüksel & Göral (2006),
Segal (2018), and Waska (1999) moreover added that projective identification serves as a form of unconscious (yet dysfunctional) adaption to an otherwise ‘frightening’ and unpredictable world. The following is a hypothetical example of projective identification:
Aaron (the subject) is an unusually hostile and violent individual. On an unconscious level,
Aaron experiences his tendency towards aggressive thoughts and behaviour as 168
overwhelming, and as extremely threatening towards the ‘good’ self-representation he holds
of himself. As a result, he splits off and projects this internal aggression into his classmate,
Ethan (the external object), and claims that Ethan is, in fact, the aggressive one between the
two of them. Aaron’s false accusation offends Ethan, and causes him to react in a combative
manner. Aaron now experiences this aggression as coming from Ethan, and asserts that
Ethan’s behaviour scares him, and causes him to feel anxious and fearful of coming to
school every day. Consequently, Aaron identifies with the projected trait (that is,
aggression), but maintains that it is due to Ethan’s so-called “antagonistic” behaviour
towards him. He thus blames Ethan for his own feelings of hostility by stating, “It is no
wonder I am as angry and aggressive as you are! Who would not act in this way if someone
were always mean to them? It is all your fault!” From an outsider’s perspective, Aaron may
look like the victim, when, in actuality, Ethan’s aggression is Aaron’s own projection that he
is attempting to control in Ethan
From the above example, one could observe that the boundaries between the individual’s self – and object representations are blurred. This indicates a lack of differentiation between the self and object that may result in some measure of pathology (Kernberg, 2004b).
Together, the use of splitting and projective identification causes the psychic structure to become unstable. The individual distinguishes, and oscillates between extremes (for example, love, and hate) and cannot appreciate the finer nuances or shades of life that exist in between these extremes (Braddock, 2012). As a result, the person’s descriptions of the self and others are
“chaotic, polarized, and unrealistic”. Under these circumstances, the individual’s self –and object representations generally alternate between being either excessively idealistic or persecutory 169 depending on the capacity of their relationship with others at any given point in time (Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 117).
Individuals who demonstrate personality pathology generally also present with some of the following secondary defense mechanisms in conjunction with splitting and projective identification (which are primary defensive operations). These five defenses function as supplementary defenses that strengthen the above-mentioned primitive defense mechanisms
(Baekeland, n.d.; Hinshelwood, 2004).
Omnipotence. Perpetual grandiosity that permeates all areas of an individual’s life is symptomatic of the defense known as omnipotence. Individuals who unconsciously resort to omnipotence (particularly in periods of perceived stress or emotional upheaval) regard themselves as being exceptionally important, superior, powerful, intelligent, or desirable to those around them. It is for this reason that Kernberg (1976, as cited in Bowins, 2016) labeled omnipotence as an “image distorting defense” (p. 185). As previously stated, these beliefs are prevalent in all spheres of their lives and are thus not situation specific (Vaknin, 2015). Vaknin
(2015) further explained this statement by highlighting that omnipotence “…is not an adopted affection, but an ingrained, ineradicable inner conviction, which borders on magical thinking” (p.
170). Kernberg (1985) added that individuals who consistently view themselves from an omnipotent lens are convinced that they have the eternal right to demand gratification and adoration from others. Thus, they expect to be treated (if not worshipped) as if they are special or elite. For example, the child who employs omnipotence may throw a tantrum every time their mother scolds them for not putting away their toys after playing with them. In this instance, the child disdainfully believes that it is their mother’s job to pick up their toys, as they experience themselves as being superior and incapable of wrongdoing. 170
Dziegielewski (2010) asserted that an individual who possesses a borderline personality organisation uses omnipotence to deal with conflicting emotional experiences, or internal or external stressors by acting as if they are ‘untouchable’. The purpose of omnipotence is to ward off any threatening or bad self –or object images that could potentially hurt or cause damage to their good self or fragile ego (Vaknin, 2015). These individuals are (unconsciously) compelled to split off any negative self –or object images because they are threatening. They are thus out of contact with their own limitations, shortcomings, or inadequacies, and this enables them to experience omnipotence (Vaknin, 2015). The use of omnipotence may also merge with other defense mechanisms such as primitive idealisation where an individual will enter into a relationship purely based on gaining more attention or recognition.
Primitive idealisation. According to Caligor et al. (2007) and Kernberg (1985), primitive idealisation (also known as omnipotent identification) is a splitting mechanism that centers on an individual’s tendency to perceive external objects as wholly good or perfect. These individuals
‘glorify’ or idealise others with the purpose of protecting their egos from ‘bad’ objects, from contamination or destruction by their own innate aggression, or from that which they projected onto other objects (Kernberg, 1985). Thus, in order to escape uncomfortable feelings (such as anxiety, fear, anger, or shame), and to safeguard their ‘good’ self, the individual exaggerates or inflates the object’s desirable features, and overlooks their weaknesses or imperfections
(Blackman, 2004; Caligor et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1984; Northoff, Bermpohl, Schoeneich, &
Boeke, 2007). According to Nesse and Lloyd (1992, p. 612), idealisation cannot merely be categorised as a “strong bond’’ between the subject and the object. Under these circumstances, the idealised object is actually experienced as an extension of the subject’s self-representation, which Hinshelwood (2004) describes as a “projective intrusion into others” (p. 72). This 171
‘projective intrusion’ once again corroborates the blurred boundaries that exist between the self and the object when pathology is present (Kernberg, 2004b).
Kernberg (1985) moreover highlighted that one should not confuse the individuals
‘admiration’ for an object with real interest, care, or appreciation; primitive idealisation is, in fact, a self-serving initiative. The individual merely uses another person to fulfill their need for protection against threatening or dangerous external objects. Thus, the idealised object is more of a ‘possession’, which the individual may use to manipulate or exploit their environment
(Kernberg, 1985). These ideal objects “serve as recipients for omnipotent identification”
(Kernberg, 1985, p. 30). This means that the individual may idealise others just so that they can share in the excellence or superiority of the object to gratify their own egotistical needs. For example, the child (that is, the subject) may purposefully associate himself or herself with a very rich, well-liked classmate (that is, the object) to share in their popularity and financial esteem.
Thus, the classmate possesses qualities that the subject identifies with and desires. By associating themselves with the classmate’s ‘good’ qualities, the child feels protected from their own ‘bad’ representations, as they see the object as being an extension of the self. By doing so, they avoid any external or environmental circumstances that might cause them to feel anxious, threatened, or even jealous, since they too are now considered ‘perfect’. As the child feels a sense of
‘oneness’ with the classmate, they feel entitled to dictate the object’s feelings and consequent actions as well (Hinshelwood, 2004).
Lastly, Kernberg (1985) stipulated that the constant use of idealisation as a defense mechanism generates unrealistic object representations within the individual. This ultimately skews their perception of the self in relation to others, and causes lapses in their ability to test reality appropriately. Since they believe that they are superlative to others (by association at 172 least), they also struggle with the concept of guilt or taking responsibility for their actions. This grandiosity keeps them from thinking that they are ever wrong, and in doing so, protects their fragile ego from harm. Unfortunately, this also impedes the development of their superego
(Kernberg, 1985,1998; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Omnipotent control. Caligor et al. (2007) explained that omnipotent control occurs when “a grandiose self ‘magically’ controls a depreciated, emotionally degraded other” (p. 29). This means that an individual who employs omnipotent control in their interactions unequivocally believes that they can influence or have a powerful effect on their surroundings and on idealised objects that they encounter. The individual thus unconsciously attempts to control idealised objects to manipulate and exploit them for personal gain (Caligor et al., 2007; Baekeland, n.d.;
Kernberg, 1985). However, in instances where the idealised object unknowingly refuses to comply with the individual’s wishes or desires, they are discarded of, and cease to hold any psychological or material value for the individual (Baekeland, n.d.; Hinshelwood, 2004; Holmes,
2015).
Omnipotent control involves “…the phantasy that the source of everything that happens is oneself” (Baekeland, n.d., p.1). The individual therefore fails to recognise that others exist separately from the self and that their resolutions in life are not identical to those of the borderline individual (Baekeland, n.d.). They consequently view others as being an extension of the self and cannot comprehend that others’ have a will of their own (Horowitz & Stinson, 1995).
Rosenfeld (1964) expounded this supposition through the following statement:
In [borderline] object relations defenses against any recognition of separateness between self
and object play a predominant part [in maintaining ‘good’ representations of the self].
Awareness of separation would lead to feelings of dependence on an object and therefore to 173
anxiety…The omnipotent [borderline] object relations therefore obviate both the aggressive
feelings caused by frustration and any awareness of envy (p. 333).
For example, the child wants a colouring book that is on a shelf that he cannot reach. He continues to shout out his teacher’s name while she is busy explaining homework to another classmate as to acquire her attention. The child believes that he is entitled to the book whenever he wants it, and as the teacher is an idealised extension of him, she should inevitably fulfil his desires without reservation.
Horowitz and Stinson (1995) pointed out that an individual who applies omnipotent control in their daily life attempts to defend themselves against the internal uncertainty and anxiety that develops due to the projection of their bad representations onto the world. To avoid the anxiety, they shift to a “role-relationship model” where the self has complete control over the idealised object (Horowitz & Stinson, 1995, p. 80; Horowitz, 1988). The repeated use of this defensive operation leads to the creation of distorted, unrealistic relationships with others (Baekeland, n.d.).
Devaluation. Devaluation stands in direct opposition to idealisation (Caligor et al., 2007;
Kernberg, 1984). Accordingly, the individual with a borderline personality configuration may attempt to manage conflicting or overwhelming emotional stressors by ascribing a disproportionate amount of undesirable qualities to the ‘persecuted’ object (Blackman, 2004).
For example, these individuals may perceive an object as being inferior, worthless, weak, or even revolting. Kernberg (1985) stated that the rationale behind the devaluation of external objects is the individual’s unconscious wish to destroy the object that frustrated their needs. The individual may also devaluate objects in an attempt to “prevent them from becoming feared and hated
‘persecutors’” (Kernberg, 1985, p. 33). However, the main purpose of devaluation (and any other 174 defense mechanism) remains the protection of their fragile ego. Devaluation, for example, occurs when the child is angry and frustrated at a friend who refuses to share his sweets with him. As a result, the child sees his friend as disgraceful and unworthy, and kicks him on the shin in an attempt to destroy him for not complying with his wishes. Thus, the child seeks to gain revenge on the object.
It is important to note that a person with a borderline personality configuration often oscillates between devaluation and idealisation (Salters-Pedneault, 2017). For example, they may shift from having great reverence and appreciation for a significant object, to feeling absolute hate and anger towards the same object in a very short amount of time. In some cases, devaluation may also alternate with omnipotence. Here, external objects are discarded or abandoned as soon as the individual realises that they have no more use for them (that is, the person can no longer provide them with the necessary gratification or protection they desire)
(Kernberg, 1985). It is easy for them to dismiss others, as they had no real capacity to care or love the object in the first place (Kernberg, 1985).
Denial. In general, denial is “the process whereby experiences which are not congruent with the self-concept, are simply ignored and excluded from consciousness” (Meyer et al., 2008, p.
387). According to Kernberg (1985), borderline individuals are known to use this defense mechanism extensively during perceivably threatening interactions with others as it unconsciously reinforces the process of splitting. This is because the individual splits off conflicting aspects of the self and then denies their significance in totality (Caligor et al., 2007).
Thus, in an effort to protect their fragile ego state and good self-representations, the individual disregards any facet of their internal or external world that they view as incongruent or potentially jeopardising (Caligor et al., 2007). Cramer (2007) corroborated the above-mentioned 175 by detailing that these individuals unconsciously misinterpret or completely overlook any thoughts, feelings, or behaviours of the self or others that could potentially cause them to experience distress. Consequently, their overall perception about these ‘anxiety-provoking’ situations is often inaccurate, exaggerated, and highly unrealistic (Cramer, 2007; Upadhyay,
2017). This also means that they fail to recognise the implications or consequences associated with their thoughts, feelings, and actions (Northoff et al., 2007). The following scenario is illustrative of denial in its simplest form:
Rebecca is determined to do well in her Mathematics test on Friday. However, she also feels
the need to take some time off from her schoolwork to play with her friends in the
neighborhood. These two needs stand in contrast to one another and cause her to experience
internal conflict and anxiety. She thus denies that there are “two emotionally independent
areas of consciousness” present in her psyche (Kernberg, 2004a, p. 31), and accordingly,
only identifies with one area of consciousness at any moment in time. This means that while
Rebecca is playing with her friends, she is unconsciously denying the importance of studying
for her Mathematics test, as it would be too overwhelming to the self to consider both
simultaneously. To protect her ‘good’ self-representations from harm, it is necessary for her
to separate her thoughts and feelings about these activities psychologically, and as a result,
she cannot integrate these conflicting emotional states. Rebecca is thus cognitively aware
that her perceptions, thoughts, and feelings about her test are completely opposite while she
is in class than when she is playing with her friends at home. Yet, it has minimal emotional
relevance for her at that point in time, as integration did not take place (Kernberg, 2004a).
Caligor et al (2007) emphasised that one should not confuse denial with repression. In denial, the individual still possesses a cognitive awareness associated with a bad or traumatic 176 experience, but fails to connect it with an appropriate emotional reaction. Kernberg (1985) added that the borderline individual is often aware that their present feelings, thoughts, and perceptions about themselves and others are not equivalent to those they had experienced previously, or during other times. In fact, they may be entirely opposite. However, this cognitive recollection has no emotional relevance to them, and cannot affect the way they currently feel. In denial, these opposing affective states are used to strengthen the ego’s position against a threatening part of the self-experience (Kernberg, 1985). Likewise, one should also not equate denial with lying.
Whereas denial is an “unconscious refusal” to admit to something (Upadhyay, 2017, para. 4), lying is a deliberate method used to manipulate or impress others, or to escape responsibility
(Upadhyay, 2017).
Levels of severity in character pathology. Kernberg proposed a structural organisation to determine and categorise the levels of severity in personality pathology (Carsky & Ellman,
1985). In particular, he considered the individual’s overall level of identity integration, their overriding defensive operations, and capacity for reality testing to group them into three distinct classifications or structures (Caligor et al., 2007; Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1981).
These structures include (from mild to extreme) the neurotic, borderline, and psychotic personality configurations. In his work, Kernberg (1975, 1985, 1995a, 2004a) placed emphasis on the borderline personality organisation in explaining his theories of narcissism and antisocial behaviour. Although three separate categories of severity exist, Caligor et al (2007) once again reiterated that “Kernberg’s classification is most accurately conceptualized as describing a continuous spectrum of personality pathology” (p. 19). This is because some individuals - especially those that present with very mild identity pathology - possess an assortment of
‘symptoms’ or traits that make it difficult to designate them to a specific group or classification. 177
The researcher highlights the above-mentioned character organisations below. Accordingly,
Diagram 4.3 illustrates the levels of severity associated with personality disorders that extends from a mild neurotic personality organisation to an extreme psychotic personality organisation. It furthermore depicts the mutual relations that exist between different personality disorders
(Kernberg, 2004b).
Diagram 4.3: Personality disorders depicted according to their mutual relations and degrees of severity. Adapted from Aggressivity, narcissism, and self-destructiveness in the psychotherapeutic relationship: New developments in the psychopathology and psychotherapy of severe personality disorders by O.F. Kernberg, pp. 15. Neurotic personality organisation. According to Kernberg (2004b), neuroticism is the mildest form of personality pathology. This is because the neurotic individual still presents with relatively stable and well-integrated psychic structures. A cohesive id, ego, and superego also imply a normal ego identity where the individual has the capacity to form and maintain close 178 object relations (Kernberg, 2004b, 2004c). The possession of a normal ego identity means that the neurotic individual’s ego boundaries are stronger and healthier than that of borderline or psychotic organisations. This is reflected in their ability to tolerate internal anxiety, control their impulses, and to use creative and sublimatory methods in their work and private life (Carsky &
Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 2004b). Unlike those with a borderline or psychotic organisation, the neurotic individual is able to experience emotional intimacy and sexual love that is disrupted
“only by unconscious guilt feelings reflected in specific pathological patterns of interaction in relation to sexual intimacy” (Kernberg, 2004b, p. 17).
It is however, important to note that although the neurotic individual exhibits a rather stable psychic structure, they are far less flexible or adaptive than your average person. Instead, they demonstrate cognitive and behavioural rigidity, and have the tendency to react negatively in the face of threatening, or frustrating situations (Caligor et al., 2007; Lahey, 2009). Nonetheless, they make use of more mature, repression-based defenses where the individual expels conflicting aspects of the internal self to the unconscious. Thus, splitting, image-distortion, and dissociation are omitted from their behavioural repertoire (Caligor et al., 2007). The Psychoanalytic
Diagnostic Manual (PDM Task Force, 2006) stated that the most common personalities linked to neuroticism are the obsessive and/or compulsive personality, the hysterical personality, and the depressive-masochistic personality. Kernberg (2004b) concurred with the PDM Task Force’s findings, but added that neuroticism is also generally present in persons with avoidant personality disorder, and in those who demonstrate a range of phobias. In terms of this psychodiagnostic framework, Kernberg placed those with a neurotic personality organisation on a higher level of personality pathology, meaning that this organisation is less severe, and allows for better functioning in daily life (Caligor et al., 2007). 179
Borderline personality organisation. The analysis of the borderline personality configuration and its role in the development of character pathology is fundamental to
Kernberg’s overall theory (Kernberg, 1985). In his studies, Kernberg (2004b) specified that an individual classified under the borderline personality organisation generally occupies a diffuse identity, has a deteriorating superego, and employs primitive defense mechanisms such as splitting in their everyday interactions with others. Although the psychotic individual (discussed next) also uses these primitive defensive operations, the difference is that the borderline individual still has the capacity for reality testing to a certain extent. However, this capacity may depreciate during situations marked by intense or overwhelming affective states. Their ability to evaluate or take into consideration the feelings of others is also compromised (Caligor et al.,
2007). Kernberg and Caligor (2005) corroborated the above-mentioned by adding that they have
“…a decreased capacity for subtle and tactful evaluation of interpersonal processes, particularly in the setting of more intimate relations…and under the impact of intense affect activation” (p.
135 & 141).
This distorted image of reality is a direct result of unintegrated self and object representations and their contradictory affective charges. This means that the individual’s good and bad images regarding the self and others did not merge to form a healthy, consolidated ego structure. This, in turn, left them with intense affects and the inability to experience others as both good and bad. These individuals have weak ego boundaries, which are expressed through their inability to tolerate anxiety, lack of impulse control, and failure to use sublimatory means to function and/or cope in their work environment and personal life (Kernberg, 2004b). Due to this weakened or fragile ego state, the borderline individual has an unconscious need to keep separate their libidinal and aggressive drive derivatives in order to protect their ego from any perceivable 180 harm (Kernberg, 1985, 2004a, 2004b). This is often done through the projection of persecutory representations, which unfortunately leads to a great amount of constitutional aggression during the course of interaction and consequently conflictual relationships. Kernberg and Caligor (2005) furthermore stated that the separation of good and bad representations commonly results in the development of a grandiose sense of self, as the idealised self and object representations merge.
Consequently, the ego is not strengthened by negative self-images, and the merger of the self – and object-images causes the individual to experience themselves as part of their ideal objet representations. This leads to the blurring of boundaries. The borderline individual’s ego is furthermore unstable due to acute oscillations between different unintegrated selves (Christopher et al., 2001).
Kernberg (1992) explained that the borderline ‘category’ of personality organisation comprises of all those personality disorders recognised as being quite severe. As one can see in
Diagram 4.3, he also distinguishes between a high level of borderline personality organisation, and a low level of borderline personality organisation. The higher level (or less severe level) typically includes the avoidant, dependent, histrionic, sadomasochistic, and narcissistic personality configurations, whereas the lower level (or more severe level) consists of the schizoid and schizotypal, paranoid, borderline, malignant narcissistic and antisocial personality configurations. Individuals within the borderline configuration, who exhibit symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder, malignant narcissism, or antisocial personality disorder, are said to have the most disorganised superego structures (Kernberg, 2004b).
In terms of their interpersonal or intimate relations with others, the individual within the borderline configuration may present with varying degrees of pathology in their sexual life
(Kernberg, 2004b). Kernberg (2004b) explained the reason behind this perversion: 181
[Borderline individuals] often present an incapacity to integrate tender and sexual feelings,
and they may show a chaotic sexual life with multiple polymorphous perverse infantile
tendencies. The most severe cases may present with a generalized inhibition of all sexual
responses as a consequence of an insufficient activation of sensuous responses in early
relations with the caregiver and an overwhelming predominance of aggression, which
interferes with sensuality rather than recruiting it for aggressive aims (p. 16).
This means that the borderline individual’s innate aggressive tendencies formed in their infancy
(due to trauma, neglect, or need frustration) are carried over into their intimate or sexual lives, as they struggle to respond accurately to differing interpersonal situations. This distortion of interpersonal relations is primarily due to identity diffusion (Kernberg, 2004b).
Psychotic personality organisation. An individual with a psychotic personality organisation demonstrates the most severe form of character pathology, which Kernberg referred to as
“atypical psychosis” (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 2004b, p. 15). A psychotic person’s conception of reality is seriously impaired, and may manifest in a number of ways. These include hallucinations, delusions, an intensified or diminished display of emotions, impaired functioning in terms of work, social relationships, and basic personal care, and bizarre or inexplicable behaviour (Psychotic disorder, 2011). These symptoms are the product of a severely underdeveloped ego, or identity diffusion. This means that the integration of self and object representations barely or never took place. It is moreover indicative of deficient or blurry ego boundaries and an inability to differentiate self-images from object-images (Hartmann, 1953;
Jacobson, 1964; Kernberg, 1985). Due to the above, the psychotic individual’s capacity for reality testing is inoperative. This means that there is an acute or persistent break between the individual’s internal and external world where their ability to perceive a situation objectively 182 against their own thoughts and emotions ceases to exist (Miles, 2015). Kernberg (1981) added to the latter statement by explaining that those struggling with psychosis lack “the subtle ability to evaluate the self and others realistically and in-depth” (p. 171).
Even though individuals within the borderline configuration usually employ the defense mechanism of splitting, it also forms part of the psychotic individual’s defensive operations. This is because they need to keep separate their good and bad internalised object relations in order to protect their idealised representations from threatening or overwhelming persecutory representations (Kernberg, 2004b). This separation additionally serves to compensate for their inability to implement reality testing (Kernberg, 1984). Thus, it can be argued that the psychotic individual employs splitting to safeguard him or herself against “the chaos in all objects relations that stems from their loss of ego boundaries in intense relationships with others” (Kernberg,
2004b, p. 16). Caligor et al (2007) stated that Kernberg placed those with a psychotic personality organisation on a ‘lower’ level of personality pathology, as psychoses is indicative of extremely disturbed cognitive and behavioural symptoms, and causes disabled or restricted functioning in daily life.
Organisation of character pathology. Kernberg (1976) also organised character pathology into three structural levels, namely higher, intermediate, and lower levels of personality dysfunction. This organisation serves to ascertain the degree to which an individual has developed instinctually and morally, and to what extent their defensive operations have matured.
It also assists in determining the level to which an individual has internalised their object relations (Carsky & Ellman, 1985). According to Carsky and Ellman (1985), Kernberg has been outspoken in terms of his disapproval regarding the DSM’s categorisation of personality disorders, as they fail to include the psychoanalytic elements mentioned above. Kernberg (1980) 183 maintained that this omission creates serious diagnostic implications, and is the main reason behind the establishment of his “characterological types” (Kernberg, 1984, p. 143). Kernberg’s organisation of character pathology is briefly discussed below.
Higher level character pathology. One can observe higher-level character pathology in an individual who is generally able to adjust to the unpredictable demands of life. (Caligor et al.,
2007). Thus, their overall perception of reality is relatively stable and intact (Sandler &
Rosenblatt, 1962). As a result, they also demonstrate a well-established, integrated concept of the self and others (that is, object relations), which allows them to pursue and maintain relationships to a moderated degree (Caligor et al., 2007; Jacobson, 1964; Kernberg, 1984). A higher-level individual also exhibits traits such as commitment and consistency regarding their work, and short and long-term goals. One can therefore regard an individual with higher-level character pathology as being only mildly dysfunctional. Nevertheless, their functioning is compromised in several key areas of personality development (Caligor et al., 2007). Despite the higher-level individual’s well-integrated psychic structure, their superego is rigid, punitive, and perfectionistic, which may bring about harsh, masochistic, or sadistic impulses (Erikson, 1956).
They may also suffer from increased anxiety, symptoms of depression, and a general sense of discontent that negatively affects their degree of life satisfaction (Caligor et al., 2007). Most individuals classified under the higher-level organisation of character pathology possess a neurotic personality configuration (PDM Task Force, 2006).
In terms of their defensive operations, the higher-level individual presents with more mature coping mechanisms centered on repression. They may also employ other repression-based defenses such as undoing, reaction formation, rationalisation, intellectualisation, and higher forms of projection. However, these character defenses are implemented in a rather excessive 184 manner and are mostly of an “inhibitory or phobic nature” (Kernberg, 1984, p. 144). Ultimately, the higher-level individual constitutes a class of relatively mild personality disorders. Caligor et al (2007) explained that, “the majority of patients with higher level personality pathology present with clinically significant, but diagnostically ‘subthreshold’ symptoms” (p. 14). Unlike in intermediate or lower levels of character pathology, higher-level individual’s still have the capacity for experiencing a broad range of affective responses, are able to feel guilt and remorse, and are able to mourn the deaths of significant others (Winnicott, 1955).
Intermediate level character pathology. Kernberg (1984) equated his intermediate level of character pathology to a moderate degree of personality dysfunction. Thus, an individual that falls under the intermediate level suffers from a greater degree of psychological damage or impairment than someone who falls under the higher level of character pathology. They also deviate from higher-level cases in that their superego is more rigid and punitive, but less integrated (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Kernberg, 1984). Despite the fact that less integration has taken place, they still possess a fairly accurate perception of themselves and others. However, their object relations seem to be relatively conflicted. At this level, the individual’s defenses are still repression-based, but also include some primitive defenses such as denial or projection
(Carsky & Ellman, 1985). Although they are not as impulsive as the lower-level individual is, their instinctual drives or impulses do seem to infiltrate their thoughts and behaviour under certain conditions (Carsky & Ellman, 1985).
Lower level character pathology. Kernberg (1985) referred to lower level character pathology as “severe [personality dysfunction] typically represented by the chaotic and impulse- ridden character” (p. 12). At this level, the individual has minimal superego integration, and has an enduring tendency to employ primitive defenses such as dissociation, splitting and the 185 projection of a sadistic superego (Kernberg, 1985). As a result, their identities are diffuse, and their object relations are formed upon part-objects. Erikson (1956, as cited in Kernberg, 1985) contributed to the latter statement by explaining that, “the absence of both an integrated world of total, internalized object representations and of a stable self-concept produces the syndrome of identity diffusion” (p. 147). Since lower-level individuals base their perceptions of others on part-objects that cannot satisfy and frustrate at the same time, they are unable to feel empathy for objects in their totality (Kernberg, 1985). Accordingly, their capacity for experiencing guilt and remorse is diminished to the point where they demonstrate no concern for the well-being, or lives of others (Winnicott, 1955). The above-mentioned thus indicates that the boundaries between the ego and superego are utterly distorted (Reich, 1953).
The lower-level individual is moreover characterised as being highly impulsive. This is because they have little control over their aggressive and libidinal drives, as their primitive instincts are directly infiltrated into their thoughts and behavioural repertoire. This is mostly due to severe ego weakness and a lack of boundary development between psychic structures
(Kernberg, 1967). According to Kernberg (1976), the borderline personality configuration is included in his lower-level character organisation. Most infantile, narcissistic, and antisocial personalities also exhibit lower of organisation (Cleckley, 1964; Easser & Lesser, 1965;
Greenson, 1958; Kernberg, 1975; Rosenfeld, 1964; Zetzel, 1968). Frosch (1964) and Kernberg
(1984) added that those who self-mutilate, or present with sexual deviancy in combination with drug or alcohol abuse, usually belong to the lower-level category.
Critique of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory
The application of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory to the understanding of personality development and its corresponding psychopathology has been extremely influential within the 186 fields of psychology and psychiatry over the past several decades (Christopher et al., 2001). In particular, his extensive research concerning the borderline personality organisation has added immense value to the psychoanalytic school of thought, and it continues to do so to this day.
Klein and Tribich (1981) have even gone as far as labeling Kernberg’s theoretical suppositions as ‘superlative’ in the face of other reputable theories regarding personality formation and dysfunction. Carsky and Ellman (1985) supported the above-mentioned by specifying that
Kernberg presented with one of the most “systematic and wide-sweeping clinical and theoretical
[accounts] of the last decade, perhaps even since Freud” (p. 257). What is, however, highly unusual, is the limited amount of conceptual analyses that have been done on Kernberg’s work despite the fact that it is generally perceived as a significant contributor to the domain of object relations theory as a whole (Carsky & Ellman, 1985; Christopher et al., 2001; Greenberg &
Mitchell, 1983). The analyses and critiques that do happen to exist only seem to focus on the comparison of his theory to other psychodynamic schools of thought (for example, Freud’s psychoanalytic drive theory) (Christopher et al., 2001; Greenberg & Mitchell, 1983; Klein &
Tribich, 1981). Thus, the researcher thought it necessary to provide the reader with a succinct overview of some of the most frequently discerned drawbacks that are specific to Kernberg’s
Object Relations Theory. She will also briefly assess and explicate the usefulness of his theory in unison with the latter.
A predominant critique regarding Kernberg’s theory is that it relies too heavily on hypothesised structures as a means to validate and explain the continuity, adaptability, and/or rigidity of personality and psychopathology (Christopher et al., 2001, p. 690). Bickhard and
Christopher (1994) asserted that the use of so-called ‘structural models’ are fundamentally flawed and unconvincing in the long run - especially in the field of Psychology. This is because 187 they are primarily rooted in circulatory reasoning where the constancy and stability of processes within a theory are dependent on the creation of “structures that are inherently stable”
(Christopher et al., 2001, p. 690). Thus, the use of structural models portrays this vital feature of
‘fixed dependability’ through theoretical assumptions, rather than providing actual, in-depth explanations or proof thereof (Christopher et al., 2001). Christopher et al. (1992) indicated that
Kernberg used this form of circularity to validate many aspects of his theory. Kernberg stated, for example, that the presence of non-metabolised ego structures were the result of experiencing rapid fluctuations in emotion or mood (that is, emotional lability). He then surmised that these non-metabolised ego structures signify split emotions in the borderline individual, but failed to explain exactly why the individual’s emotions were fragmented in the first place (Christopher et al., 2001). Thus, the structural facets of his theory are in place, but the explanations behind these structural conceptions are lacking.
A second critique of Kernberg’s theory is his conception and interpretation of the units (or building blocks) that make up internalised object relations. Kernberg also refers to these units as
‘affective memories’ or ‘memory traces’ that encompass emotionally-laden images of the self and of the object (Christopher et al., 2001; Kernberg, 1966, 1976). According to Kernberg (1995,
1998) these memory traces constitute elements of episodic or events memory that start to develop during infancy. However, Tulving (1983, 1985, as cited in Christopher et al., 2001) opposed the latter statement by asserting that Kernberg’s hypotheses surrounding the aspect of memory are “inconsistent with cognitive developmental research” (p. 697). He explained his opposing viewpoint by stating that it is a generally accepted fact that children only start to develop personal memories regarding life events later in childhood (that is, at around three to four years of age) and not during infancy as Kernberg originally postulated (Tulving, 1983). 188
Thus, Kernberg’s assumptions concerning the cognitive abilities of an infant are unfounded in terms of memory research, and hold little empirical value (Christopher et al., 2001). This inconsistency furthermore indicates a flaw in the foundational principles of his theory that needs to be reevaluated (Christopher et al., 2001).
Besides the above-mentioned critiques, Kernberg also neglected to describe the role of the mother, or primary caregiver, in his theory. Scholars such as Klein and Tribich (1981) were surprised by this omission, as Kernberg placed so much emphasis on the necessity of a relationship between the infant and their mother throughout his theory. However, he did not disclose what is important about this relationship, and failed to mention what is required of the mother (as an object) when in contact with the infant (Klein & Tribich, 1981).
Christopher et al. (2001) noted a fourth discrepancy in Kernberg’s theory while attempting to gain an understanding of his explanation concerning intrapsychic organisation and the role of valence. Kernberg specified that the integration of self –and object representations generate neutralised valences within the individual’s psyche. This neutralisation supposedly frees up additional energy, which the individual can use for repression (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). This explanation, however, stands in conflict with the scientific rules or “causal mechanisms” governing the scientific properties and processes of chemical and static electricity – especially in terms of valence usage (Christopher et al., 2001, p. 699). Concerning electricity, positive and negative charges cancel each other out. Likewise, chemistry illustrates that the covalence of atoms causes electrons to lose energy (Christopher et al., 2001). Thus, no new energy is generated, and no existing energy is released either. The above therefore disproves Kernberg’s notion that integrated valences have the ability to produce supplementary energy for repression
(Christopher et al., 1992). In a similar fashion, Kernberg also argues that the process of splitting 189 requires far less energy than that of repression since a weak ego state cannot produce enough energy for repression to take place within an individual (Christopher et al., 2001). He moreover stipulates that more energy can be released for repression in instances where the individual is able to reverse the process of splitting (Christopher et al., 2001). Christopher et al. (2001) found the above to be vague and confusing, as he could not comprehend how the integration of opposite ego states led to the release of more energy. He additionally questioned how the act of splitting necessitated less energy than repression. The aforementioned once again indicated
Kernberg’s tendency to label occurrences within his theory without actually explaining them
(Christopher et al., 1992). Christopher et al. (2001) substantiated the latter statement:
Whether Kernberg intends to provide an explanatory or simply a descriptive account, the
end result is a model that is internally inconsistent. As with structural models generally, his
appeal to valence as an explanation entails circular reasoning that merely posits the
phenomenon in question without providing a true explanatory account (p. 699).
The fifth and final criticism of Kernberg’s theory is an extension of the above-mentioned critique. Namely, that he labels his concepts, but fails to provide in-depth, logical explanations for them (Christopher et al., 1992). This issue can be observed in his identification of the id and ego as being both functions and processes. However, he does not explain why he assumes this.
Another example of this critique is Kernberg’s notion that the ego precipitates around the individual’s good self-representations. Accordingly, their bad self-representations are supposedly retained, while their bad images are expelled. Kernberg does not give a reason for these occurrences either (Christopher et al., 2001).
Although the foregoing criticisms seem harsh, Christopher et al. (2001) emphasised that no psychological theory can meet all the standards set out for the creation of a perfect theory. A 190 certain degree of unreserved and forthright critique is critical for the improvement, modification, and expansion of established, as well as novel theories. Despite all the criticisms propelled towards Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory, it still managed to uproot and contest the longstanding views attached to psychoanalytic thinking. Kernberg has also contributed tremendously to the “systematic evaluation, diagnosis, and treatment of individuals with severe personality disorders” through the provision of a conceptual framework that identifies and highlights their psychological structures and consequent defense mechanisms (Carsky & Ellman,
1985; Christopher et al., 2001, p. 689).
Conclusion
This chapter highlighted the various elements involved in the development of healthy and pathological personality development according to Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory. The following chapter delineates the specific research methodology that is pertinent to the construction and legitimisation of the research study. It considers the aim and objectives of the study, and moreover describes the research design, sampling procedures, and data collection – and analysis methods employed in the study. The preliminary methodological considerations significant to psychobiographical research are also discussed.
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CHAPTER 5
RESEARCH DESIGN AND METHODOLOGY
“Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. It is a seeking that he
who wishes may know the cosmic secrets of the world and they that dwell therein” (Hurston,
1942, p. 143).
Chapter Preview
The following chapter depicts the systematic process or plan employed to conduct the overall research study. Included are descriptions and explanations related to the specific aim and objectives of the study, the research design, sampling procedures, unit of analysis, and data collection –and analysis methods. Additionally, the preliminary methodological considerations significant to psychobiographical research are discussed, after which strategies and recommendations to overcome the obstacles inherent to this form of research, are proposed. The latter suggestions are then applied to the psychological study regarding the life of Bundy.
Finally, the chapter presents a brief discussion relating to the ethical considerations and researcher reflexivity fundamental to psychobiographical studies.
Primary Research Aim and Objectives
The primary aim of this study was to explore and describe the life of Ted Bundy through the application of Otto Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory with the intention of developing a relevant psychobiography. The purpose of this was to generate an in-depth understanding of
Bundy’s psychological constitution and personality development, in order to produce new or additional insights into why he killed. By doing so, the findings of the study can be generalised to major aspects of the theories used rather than to a larger population (Schultz, 2005b). Yin
(2009) referred to this as the process of analytical generalisation. 192
A secondary objective of the study was to assess the overall usefulness and applicability of
Kernberg’s theory to Bundy’s personality development through comparing the findings of the study to the expected outcomes of the theoretical model used. The attainment of this objective could not only augment existing personality theories, but could promote the use of Kernberg’s theoretical perspective within the realms of psychobiographical research. Additional objectives included the exploration of antisocial, narcissistic, and borderline personality dynamics exhibited in Bundy’s behavioural repertoire, and the identification of particular patterns or themes that were prevalent in his life. Through meeting the above objectives, allowed the researcher to recognise Bundy’s use of lower-level defense mechanisms and facilitated her in categorising his personality in terms of severity and where he falls within Kernberg’s borderline organisation.
Research Design
A research design describes the overarching strategy or plan that the researcher uses in the construction of her research study (Babbie & Mouton, 2001). Many academics also refer to this as the “blueprint” of an enquiry (Babbie & Mouton, 2001, p. 74). Simply put, the research design asks what kind of study the researcher is performing, and is predominantly based on the initial research aim, problem, or question that the researcher has chosen to investigate (Maxwell, 2013).
Although research designs typically follow a prescribed set of stages or tasks that need to be completed sequentially, qualitative research is more inductive, recursive, and flexible in nature
(Marshall & Rossman, 1999). Maxwell (2013) regarded qualitative research designs as comprising of highly modifiable or adaptable procedures, as new developments or changes in subject behaviour or response occur on a regular basis due to the unpredictability of human nature. Hammersley and Atkinson (1995) added to the latter by stating that in qualitative 193 research “…the design should be a reflexive process operative through every stage of a project”
(p. 24).
This research study employed a qualitative single-case research design in the form of a psychobiography to explore, describe, and interpret the life of Bundy, as it facilitates an in-depth analysis into the perceptions of a particular individual through their lived experiences (that is, from birth to death) in the absence of numerical analysis (Strauss & Corbin, 1998; Yin, 1994). In accordance, Yin (2009) expressed that a single-case research strategy is highly applicable in the formulation of a psychobiographical study, since a single-case design “…investigates a contemporary phenomenon in-depth and within its real-life context, especially when the boundaries between phenomenon and context are not yet clearly evident” (p. 14). This means that it allows the researcher to establish a link between the individual’s micro level existence and the social constructs that persist on their meso -and macro levels, to determine the influence they have on each other (Neuman, 2006). Case studies also enable the development of new theoretical frameworks (that is, theory building), that other researchers can then extend on (McAdams,
1988; Neuman, 2006; Yin, 1994).Thus, the design systematically employs psychological theory as a means to explore and elucidate an individual’s entire life to contribute towards knowledge building (Yin, 1994, 2013).
The purposive nature of the study was exploratory-descriptive. Exploratory research is generally administered in cases where the researcher necessitates a detailed understanding of a particular individual, circumstance, or phenomenon for which there is a lack of basic information, or in order to explore a situation for which there is no distinct set of outcomes
(Blaikie, 2000; De Vos et al., 2011). Similarly, descriptive research aims to provide a detailed representation of the specific “…situation, social setting, or relationship” (Neuman, 2011, p. 38) 194 prevalent in the study, and is mostly used in combination with explorative research (Neuman,
2011; De Vos et al., 2011). The research furthermore takes on a descriptive-dialogical approach to ensure a realistic depiction of the subject and phenomena under study while simultaneously testing the content of specific theories (Edwards, 1990). Moreover, the psychobiographical nature of the research causes it to be morphogenic, because it emphasises the subject as a whole rather than focusing on isolated elements that make individuals unique (Runyan, 1984). Ruiters
(2013) expanded on this by stating that psychobiographies look at individuals holistically, and attend to the “larger contextualised background within which the individual exists” (p. 10).
In application, the current researcher included a large array of data sources from multiple contexts to ensure that her exploration of Bundy yielded accurate descriptions concerning his personality development and life history (De Vos et al., 2011). As the design strategy falls within the qualitative approach to research, the quality of the research study is of great importance and needs to be emphasised throughout the entire research process. Tracy (2010) identified eight key criteria for outstanding qualitative research, which the researcher used to achieve a high standard of work during the study. These indicators are summarised in Table 3.
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TABLE 3: Eight “Big-Tent” Criteria for Excellent Qualitative Research Criteria Means, Practices, and Methods Worthy topic The topic of the research is Relevant and timely Significant and interesting Rich rigour The study uses sufficient, abundant, appropriate, and complex Theoretical constructs Date and time in the field Sample(s) and context(s) Data collection and analysis processes Sincerity The study is characterised by Self-reflexivity about subjective values, biases, and inclinations of the researcher(s) Transparency about the methods and challenges Credibility The research is marked by Thick descriptions, concrete detail, explication of tacit (nontextual) knowledge, and showing rather than telling Triangulation or crystallization Multivocality and member reflections Resonance The researcher influences readers or a variety of audiences through Aesthetic, evocative representation Naturalistic generalisations Transferable findings Significant The researcher provides a significant contribution Conceptually/theoretically contribution Practically Morally Methodologically Heuristically Ethical The research considers Procedural ethics (such as human subjects) Situational and culturally specific ethics Relational ethics Exiting ethics (Leaving the scene and sharing the research) Meaningful The study coherence Achieves what it purports to be about Uses methods and procedures that fit its stated goals Meaningfully interconnects literature, research questions/foci, findings, and interpretations with each other Note: By Tracy, S.J. (2010). Qualitative quality: Eight “big-tent” criteria for excellent qualitative research. Qualitative Enquiry, 16(10), p. 840.
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The Psychobiographical Subject
Simonton (1999) and Schultz (2005b) indicated that psychologically orientated research studies generally consist of samples, or groups of anonymous individuals, that statistically represent a larger population, making the results universally applicable. This implies that the subjects involved in the study are indistinguishable and interchangeable with other members that coincide within the same sample (Simonton, 1999). Although Schultz (2005b) acknowledged the significance of the above in the process of conducting valuable research, he insisted that “…if psychology ought to strive for anything…then saying something vital about people – actual individuals with a history – should be job one” (p. 3). Through his statement, Schultz (2005b) attempted to emphasize the importance of studying individual lives that exhibited unique or extraordinary features (that is, psychobiography), for example, noteworthy historical personages, influential political leaders, prominent religious figures, sports stars, celebrated artists, or infamous criminals.
Simonton (1999) classified these types of eminent individuals as “significant samples” (p.
425), which encompass “…all those persons who have attained an unusually pervasive and lasting reputation, regardless of whether that reputation be great or small, positive or negative”
(p. 426-427). The rationale behind studying these individuals is thus, to explore their lives and subsequent personality development to gain a deeper understanding as to what led them to certain memorable actions (Simonton, 1999; Stroud, 2004). Likewise, case study research highlights the investigation of exceptional or atypical individuals or situations (Sokolovsky,
1996; Yin, 2009). In the present study, Bundy functioned as the single-case or sole unit of analysis whose life and ensuing personality characteristics were described, analysed, and interpreted according to Kernberg’ Object Relations Theory. 197
Kőváry (2011) highlighted that psychobiographers should choose a subject for whom they feel a great deal of ambivalence. This serves to minimise the potential of the researcher forming any biased opinions towards the subject that could result in skewed or incorrect results and conclusions. The researcher should also preferably select a subject that holds theoretical significance and applicability within the study, and is regarded as being interesting or exceptional in some way (Chéze, 2009; Elms, 1994).
The researcher chose the subject of this study using a non-probability sampling technique known as purposive sampling, or judgmental sampling due to its intentional nature (Palys, 2008).
This means that the researcher deliberately selected Bundy as her research subject because his personality and infamous deeds (that is, murder) corresponded directly to her research objectives and choice of theories. Thus, it was in the researcher’s interest to investigate a subject who exhibited characteristics associated with extreme pathology or mental disturbance (for example, pathological narcissism or antisocial personality disorder) to match her theory of personality development and borderline conditions. The researcher also chose Bundy based on his interest value, his contradictory nature (that elicits both fear and fascination simultaneously), and because of the plethora of information that is available on him within the public domain. Lastly, the literature review indicated that many works pertaining to Bundy’s life have been generated, but that only a single psychobiography has been written on him to date (McGivern, 2015).
However, the current psychobiography took on a different angle, as it focused on understanding his personality development from a psychoanalytical standpoint through the use of a theory that has never been applied to his life before.
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Data Collection and Data Analysis
Psychobiographical research involves sorting through an immense amount of data. It is an ongoing process of collecting, examining, and interpreting data to reach tentative conclusions about a subject (Hancock & Algozzine, 2006). In the process of making sense of collected information, the data gathering and evaluating process takes on a repetitive course, with the researcher interacting with the information throughout the entire research investigation (Hancock
& Algozzine, 2006; Soy, 1997). This implies that data collection and analysis occur on a continual and concurrent basis throughout the progression of the research (Tellis, 1997).
Data collection procedures. The data collection process mainly focused on finding information that concurred with the primary research aim and its supplementary objectives. The researcher accessed a combination of primary and secondary data sources to assist in the construction of the overall research study. Primary sources refer to documents generated by the subject themselves (in this case Bundy), while secondary sources indicate data forms produced by others pertaining to the subject at hand (Allport, 1961; Elms, 1994, 2007; Simonton, 2003).
With the exception of a few documented interviews and audio-visual material, no other primary or autobiographical sources exist of Bundy. Thus, the researcher predominantly explored the life of Bundy through a wealth of secondary sources such as available biographical and theoretical books, archival material, and documentation that include study reports and published journal articles.
In the search for, and collection of accredited and published materials on Bundy, the researcher consulted the World Wide Web (via the Google search engine), the library information-system at the Nelson Mandela University (NMU), and electronic databases such as
EBSCOhost, JSTOR, PsycARTICLES, PsycINFO, Sage Journals Online, and Google Scholar. 199
Although it is always ideal to gather information directly from the source of investigation, Yin
(2003) stated that the use of published or secondary data sources in psychobiographical studies should not be underestimated as it offers (a) the use of secure and established documents that can be consulted repeatedly; (b) accurate confirmation of dates, times, places, events and names; and
(c) easy and public access to information that is consistently available. However, Kőváry (2011) and Yin (2003, 2009) both warned that published sources are also susceptible to author bias and sensationalism and that the researcher should proceed with caution when choosing which information to include in her research study. To avoid the latter, the researcher employed data triangulation by cross-referencing a variety of sources to separate valid data from misleading, misreported, or biased information (Willig, 2001). This served to enhance the reliability and internal validity of the study. The researcher also implemented reflexivity and investigator triangulation to avoid any further form of data distortion; these techniques are discussed later on in the chapter.
Extracting raw data from a diverse range of sources does not deliver conclusive research findings or results. It is only once the researcher sorts through and analyses the information that she can formulate convincing interpretations surrounding the subject under study. The following section highlights the data extraction and analysis process used in the study.
Data processing and analysis. Generally, the process of data extraction and analysis refers to filtering or refining an extensive amount of data into smaller, more manageable units for examination purposes (De Vos et al., 2011). During this process, the researcher combs through the collected data and discards all the unwanted information or materials that do not coincide with the overall aim of the study. The remaining (useful) information is then scrutinised for reoccurring patterns and themes, and subsequently transformed into valuable findings (De Vos et 200 al., 2011). To summarise, Yin (2003) described data analysis as “examining, categorizing, tabulating, testing, or otherwise recombining…evidence to address the initial proposition of the study” (p. 109).
In case study research, such as psychobiographical studies, the psychobiographer has to distinguish the prominent, factual details related to the subject’s life from mere opinion or dramatisations that are prone to biased views and sensationalism. This is so that the researcher can organise the data into a convincing and plausible narrative (Chéze, 2009; McAdams, 1994;
Schultz, 2005a). Thus, the psychobiographer must be receptive to any indicators in the collected data that may allude to how the story of a person’s life is to be learned, constructed, and communicated (McAdams, 1994). These indicators do not only include personal information, but also has to include the particular social, cultural, and historical contexts associated with the subject under study (McAdams, 1994; Schultz, 2005a).
Yin (1994) recommended that the gathered information be considered from a systematic and general analytic viewpoint and proposed two strategies specific to data analysis in case study research. These included data analysis led by the theoretical orientation and associated propositions, and generating a case description. The first strategy requires the researcher to identify and select relevant data based on the theoretical approach and research objectives employed in her research study, whereas the second strategy entails the development of a descriptive framework to organise and incorporate vital case information (Yin, 1994, 2003;
Fouché, 1999).
Apart from the above, Pinch and Oancea (2014) also argued that in qualitative research, the unpredictability and complexity of human behaviour that occurs freely in countless natural settings, demonstrates that researchers cannot confine social life to a single method of data 201 analysis. Coffey and Atkinson (1996) explained “…that there is variety in [qualitative data analysis] techniques because there are different questions to be addressed and different versions of social reality that can be elaborated” (p. 14). Due to the multiple perspectives that are obtainable through qualitative research - and especially through case study research - Miles and
Huberman (1994) suggested that researchers merge or interconnect different data analysis procedures in their study to ensure that the findings and conclusions are content rich, detailed, and multifocal. The above highlights the fact that there is no one ‘best’ or ‘right’ way of performing qualitative data analysis, and that the choice of analytical method is rather contingent on the research purpose or aim (Punch & Oancea, 2014). Although this implies that qualitative researchers have freedom in combining data analysis techniques in whichever way they want,
Miles (1979) cautioned that the process might not be as attractive as it looks. This is because qualitative analysis procedures still need to be “…systematic, disciplined, transparent, and descriptive” (Punch & Oancea, 2014, p. 171). Miles (1979) illustrated this concern through the following quote:
The most serious and central difficulty in the use of qualitative data is that methods of
analysis are not well formulated. For quantitative data, there are clear conventions the
researcher can use. However, the analyst faced with a bank of qualitative data has very few
guidelines for protection against self-delusion, let alone the presentation of unreliable or
invalid conclusions to scientific or policy-making audiences. How can we be sure that an
‘earthy’, ‘undeniable’, ‘serendipitous’ finding is not, in fact, wrong? (p. 591)
Thus, qualitative researchers such as psychobiographers, constantly have to ask themselves how they got to their conclusions. Fortunately, valuable developments such as the use of ‘audit 202 trails’ (discussed later in this chapter) in qualitative data analysis, has helped relieve this problem of reliability (Punch & Oancea, 2014).
Considering the above discussion, the researcher chose to integrate two data analysis procedures in the present study, namely Irving Alexander’s (1988, 1990) model, and Miles and
Huberman’s (1994) Three-Step approach to data analysis.
Alexander’s model – Textual indicators of psychological saliency. Du Plessis (2017) argued that the incorporation of Alexander’s markers of salience in one’s research adds psychological significance to many aspects of the data. To a great extent, this process involves the “[deconstruction] of the existing narrative and other structures of the data in order to allow the psychological structure(s) to be evident” (Du Plessis, 2017, p. 227). Alexander (1988) proposed two guidelines for identifying and extracting relevant data (or core-identifying units) from an accumulation of gathered information, namely “letting the data reveal itself,” and
“asking the data a question” (p. 265). The first strategy (that is, allowing the data to reveal itself), enabled the researcher to identify and separate significant data from ambiguous, misleading, or irrelevant information sources. This facilitated the researcher in condensing her collection of data into more reasonable and controllable quantities, and in turn, increased the trustworthiness of the study (Alexander, 1988; Krefting, 1991; Miles & Huberman, 1994). The researcher accomplished the above strategy using Alexander’s (1988, 1990) nine indicators of salience which include primacy, frequency, uniqueness, negation, emphasis, omission, errors or distortions, isolation, and incompletion. Table 4 below provides a description of each.
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TABLE 4: Alexander’s (1988) Nine Principles of Salience Principle Description Primacy Sometimes, that which the subject highlights first, holds the most significance or meaning, and may convey more about the subject than subsequent revelations. The researcher should pay special attention to utterances related to the subject’s earliest memories and experiences. Frequency or Any expressions or phrases that are repeated to oneself, another or some Repetitions inanimate object may be valuable. These include recurring communications, themes, scenes, events or happenings, means-end sequences, relationship patterns, conflicts, and obsessions. Such actions may indicate the presence of a core conflict demanding disguised expression, and may signify neurosis. Uniqueness Material that the subject regards as unprecedented, unusual, abnormal, or particularly singular is worthy inspection. These comprise of statements regarding something new, variations in language use, expression, or response. For example, “One incident always comes to mind from the period of my adolescence”. Negation Are instances where people protest too much or unnecessarily about a given psychological -or biographical fact. The subject either denies or argues the opposite when it comes to the proclamation of certain events or information. Negation statements are often indicators of possibly repressed or unconscious material. Elms (1994) suggested paying attention to what the subject is not saying. For example, when a son asserts that he “is not like his father”. Emphasis When a subject makes an unusual amount of effort to emphasise a certain happening in some way. It may present itself in the form of over-, under-, or misplaced emphasis. For example, when Bill Clinton went to great lengths to stress that he “did not have sex with that woman”. Omission Elms (1994) stated that, “sometimes we should ask more questions when a dog doesn’t bark than when it does” (p. 246). When a subject’s narrative fails to include information that is essential to the basic coherence or “a sense of flow” (Alexander, 1988, p. 19), the researcher should home in on the matter. In some cases, omitted information may relate to affect – that is, how the subject felt during an experience he or she describes, or how others may have felt. Errors or When a subject purposefully relays the wrong information or alters what Distortions really happened during a specific event. This principle is a derivative of the classic Freudian slip (Elms, 1994). Isolation When certain material distinctly stands out from the surrounding text, and does not seem to fit in with that which the subject was originally talking about at all. This could suggest that which stands alone, ultimately stands out. Incompletion Occurs in instances where the subject neglects to finish a story, or trails off without attaching the necessary detail. The subject may change the topic completely in order to avoid narrating a conclusion. 204
Note: Adapted from Alexander, I.E. (1988). Personal, psychological assessment and psychobiography. In W.T. Schultz (Ed.), Handbook of psychobiography (pp. 43-49). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. What makes these principles significant to this study, is that they are mostly based on strategies utilised in psychoanalysis (Schultz, 2005a). This corresponds directly to the researcher’s choice of theory as his assumptions are also rooted within a psychoanalytic framework. Likewise, these “textual indicators” (Alexander, 1988, 1990 as cited in Schultz,
2005a, p. 43) hold great value for psychobiographical studies, as it “…hones in on uniquely meaningful utterances of biographical data…and helps us ‘hear’ our subjects a little more clearly” (Schultz, 2005a).
The second strategy (that is, asking the data questions) enabled the researcher to extract and systematically categorise data into themes of personality development, on the basis of the theory selected, as well as the particular aim and objectives of the study (Alexander, 1990; Chéze, 2009;
Krefting, 1991; Miles & Huberman, 1994). Alexander (1988) indicated that this method of enquiry is not limited to any specific type of question, but did recommend that the researcher provide an explanation as to why certain questions are chosen, and how they are answered.
In this study, the researcher subjected all of her collected data pertaining to Bundy and her choice of theoretical perspective to the process of questioning. She included questions such as:
(1) “How is Kernberg’s theory of personality development conceptualised and
operationalised throughout the study?”
(2) “What is the dialogue between the extracted data and the content of the [developmental]
personality theory applied in this study?”
(3) “To what extent do Kernberg’s primitive defense mechanisms promote the development
of personality pathology within an individual such as Bundy?” 205
To answer the first and third question, the researcher conceptualised her study according to
Kernberg’s (1975) Object Relations Theory which was explored in detail in Chapter Four.
Moreover, Yin (1994) asserted that the presentation of clearly conceptualised definitions and descriptions within case study research served to enhance the operationalisation of important units of analysis. The construction of a chronological portrayal of Bundy’s life, which detailed the salient life events that affected his personality development and overall functioning, also facilitated in answering the above questions. The researcher answered the second question through realising Yin’s (2003) process of analytic generalisation. This was done by informally testing the extracted data against the chosen theories for the purpose of extending those theories, and adding to an existing body of knowledge (Maxwell, 2007; Schultz, 2005b).
The incorporation of Alexander’s (1988, 1990) model of data identification and extraction facilitated the researcher in systematising a vast amount of data to identify significant patterns and themes. However, the researcher thought it necessary to add Miles and Huberman’s (1994) approach to expand on the aforementioned practice, and assist in the data analysis process. This method involves three steps namely, (1) data reduction, (2) data display, and (3) conclusion drawing and verification, which are briefly discussed below.
Miles and Huberman’s three-step approach to qualitative data analysis. Miles and
Huberman’s (1994) approach to data analysis consists of three steps namely, data reduction, data display, and conclusion drawing and verification. These three components interact with each other in a cyclical and on-going fashion throughout the entire research process, as shown in
Diagram 6.1 (Miles and Huberman, 2002; Punch & Oancea, 2014).
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Diagram 5.1: Miles and Huberman’s (1994) Interactive Model of Data Analysis (p. 12).
Data reduction. Miles and Huberman (1994) described data reduction as “the process of selecting, focusing, simplifying, abstracting, and transforming data” (p. 63). During this stage, the researcher reduced, organised, and simplified the mass of obtained data in a meaningful way to discard any irrelevant or ambiguous information. Oftentimes, this stage “…forces the researcher to choose which aspects of the assembled data she should emphasise, minimise, or set aside completely for the purpose of the project at hand” (Miles & Huberman, 1994, p. 11).
According to Punch and Oancea (2014), this phase occurs repeatedly throughout the entire analysis process. In the initial stages of analysis, data reduction takes place through actions such as editing, compartmentalising (that is, extraction) and condensing the data. Mid-analysis, researchers may implement data reduction in coding or memoing their data by discovering themes and patterns, and finally, it presents itself through the course of conceptualisation and explanation (as the development of abstract concepts is also a method of decreasing large quantities of information) (Punch & Oancea, 2014).
In the current study, the researcher organised the collected data according to theory relevance and major developmental periods of Bundy’s life. This process not only increased the 207 trustworthiness of the study, but also thoroughly prepared it for the next stage of the analysis process. Alexander (1988) emphasized that when a sound psychological framework is in place, recognising themes and patterns, and identifying discrepancies between sources becomes easier.
Data display. Punch and Oancea (2014) defined data display as “organizing, compressing, and assembling information” (p. 174). Data display is thus used to draw conclusions from an assembly of collected data by presenting it in such a manner that it is practical, manageable, and easily accessible. Displaying data in a reader-friendly, organised way is an essential part of the process, as trying to excerpt key elements, patterns, or themes from voluminous, or dispersed sets of information, is a grueling task (Punch & Oancea, 2014). Miles and Huberman (1994) often used the phrase “You know what you display” (p. 11) to emphasise the latter. Several forms of data displays exist. These include diagrams, graphs, flow charts, matrices, tables, networks, and maps, which provide new, comprehensive ways of arranging and thinking about the more textually embedded data (Miles & Huberman, 1994; Punch & Oancea, 2014). Displays are also used during the entire course of the study.
In this study, the researcher displayed her data in various forms to simplify the process of identifying Bundy’s personality development. It also assisted in illuminating themes and patterns that emerged during his life course when applied to Kernberg’s (1975) Object Relations Theory.
She created her own tables to convey information in an organised manner, and inserted pictures and diagrams to give readers a visual representation of what she was trying to explain.
Conclusion drawing and verification. The primary reason for conducting the first two steps of Miles and Huberman’s analysis approach is to assist in drawing and verifying valuable conclusions from the reduced content of the study (Punch & Oancea, 2014). During this stage, propositions are developed, interpretations are made, and meanings are drawn from the 208 transformed data sets (Miles & Huberman, 1994). Thus, the overall aim “is to integrate what has been done into a meaningful and coherent picture of the data” (Punch and Oancea, 2014, p. 175).
Punch and Oancea (2014) furthermore stated that while conclusion drawing and verification logically occurs once the data has been efficiently reduced and displayed, it generally also takes place synchronously with the first two stages, as the researcher may have noted indefinite, or ill- formed conclusions early on in the analysis. These are usually improved and refined throughout the analysis process, and finalised once the procedure is complete.
The researcher acquired a better understanding of Bundy and his unique personality development during the concluding phase of the research study by summarising and reflecting upon the complexities of the data (De Vos et al., 2011). She also included various strategies in her research to facilitate making accurate interpretations and drawing worthwhile conclusions.
These comprised of data triangulation “to reveal multiple constructed realities” and reflexivity to increase the trustworthiness of the study, by “exposing discrepancies in the research (Blaikie,
1991 as cited in McGivern, 2015, p. 128).
Besides the structural components that should be included in the research (such as the aim, design, and analysis process), the researcher must also be aware of and consider the methodological implications that may arise during the course of psychobiographical research.
Preliminary Methodological Considerations
Owing to the large amount of criticism that psychobiographical research has received in the past
(Elms, 1994; Schultz, 2005b), Seale (1999) emphasised the importance of methodological deliberation ahead of commencing with a research investigation. This not only improves the overall quality of the research study, but also enhances the researcher’s awareness about the methodological repercussions associated with particular decisions made during the research 209 process (Seale, 1999). Singer (2003) and Schultz (2005b) maintained that while gaining an in- depth understanding and conceptualisation of an individual’s life within a specific theoretical framework is an imperative aspect of psychobiographical studies, it is just as important for the researcher to be mindful of alternate factors that may or may not influence the quality and neutrality of the research.
In the following section, the potential drawbacks or methodological concerns are discussed.
These include researcher bias, inflated expectations, analysing an absent subject, cross-cultural differences, reductionism, elitism and easy genre, the infinite amount of biographical data, and the trustworthiness of data. The aforementioned will be accompanied by the strategies adopted in the current study to counteract or minimise them.
Researcher bias. As a psychobiographical study necessitates a detailed exploration of a subject’s life, researchers may often find themselves making automatic, subjective presumptions about a particular subject (Anderson, 1981a). The researcher may unconsciously or unintentionally idealise or unfairly vilify the person under study, creating preconceived notions about their life or behaviour (Elms, 1994; Simonton, 2003).This may elicit strong emotional reactions from the researcher in which either an overly positive or negative connotation is attached to the individual being investigated (Elms, 1994). Academics refer to this potential flaw in psychobiographical research as researcher bias, explicit subjectivity, or biased subjectivity, as it disregards real, factual occurrences or events, and replaces it exclusively with personal, subjective opinions (Elovitz, 2003; Kvale, 1996; Roets, 2015). When overlooked, researcher bias could wreak havoc on a potentially compelling and satisfactory piece of work by producing erroneous, incautious results. Selective interpretations and instances of counterevidence are largely responsible for creating distorted images of a subject, and could consequently lead to 210 skewed and misleading findings (Haverkamp, 2005). Kvale (1996) highlighted that qualitative researchers should rather aim for perspectival subjectivity when doing a psychobiography, which
Haverkamp (2005) described as “…a thoughtful elaboration of meaning within a constructivist paradigm” (p. 147).
As psychobiographies qualify as in-depth and long-term research studies that focus on only one person, they are often reported to mimic the therapeutic relationship. Researchers should thus recognise the possibility of developing complicated or intensely personal reactions to the research subject, which could in turn, lead to issues of transference and/or countertransference
(Anderson, 1981a; Meissner, 2003). In an attempt to minimise this, the researcher must consistently revise and acknowledge their emotional responses generated whilst undertaking the study (Anderson, 1981a) to “…guard against the biographical subject becoming a projection of the author” (Kitching, 2012, as cited by Meissner, 2003, p. 77). Elms (1994) and Berg (1995) suggested that the researcher should essentially choose a subject about whom they feel considerable ambivalence to avoid unnecessary prejudice. The researcher should also explore why they chose a specific subject.
The process of introspection could rectify the above, and could aid the researcher in examining her own conscious thoughts, feelings, or mental state surrounding the research endeavour (Anderson, 1981a). Schultz (2005b) recommended that the researcher implement an assortment of methodological guidelines to alleviate excess or unnoticed researcher bias. Firstly, one should continuously bear in mind that more critical, internal and external colleagues, promoters and/or examiners, would eventually obtain the completed product for thorough assessment. This should serve as a forewarning to the researcher to remain “intellectually honest” throughout the research process (Elms, 1994, p. 20). Moreover, empathy towards the 211 biographical subject should be encouraged as identification with the specific individual acts as a preventative measure for being derogatory or deprecatory of him (Anderson, 1981a). Regularly diarising any thoughts or feelings concerning the chosen research subject could furthermore aid in locating and expressing any biases the researcher may have – thus, critical self-examination and reflexivity are crucial to the data collection and interpretation process (Anderson, 1981a;
Schultz, 2005b). A fourth strategy may be to employ the help of supervisors, the subject’s close acquaintances, and other biographical specialists (Anderson, 1981b). By allowing them to proofread, comment, and make appropriate recommendations regarding the degree of subjectivity exhibited in the writing, a decrease in researcher bias and an increase in objectivity could transpire (Anderson, 1981b; Schurink, 1988). However, in instances where the subject is still alive, he or she should be offered the opportunity to review the manuscript and to comment on the nature of the researcher’s relationship with the subject (Schurink, 1988).
Strategies applied. The researcher believes that she was able to apply the above strategies sufficiently and effectively throughout the research process. Through continuously monitoring her thoughts, attitudes, and emotional reactions towards Bundy, she was able to maintain a perceptive balance between the levels of empathy, subjectivity, and objectivity employed. These responses were journalised during the course of the research for reflexive analysis and may be found in Appendix B. The researcher’s ongoing engagement with her supervisors provided additional insight into how the subject may have affected her personally, and supplied her with valuable, objective feedback that supported an open-minded and reflexive approach to the research. Lastly, the researcher attempted to sustain impartiality by choosing a subject whom towards she feels a great deal of ambivalence. She chose Ted Bundy as his unique set of personality characteristics and behaviours fascinated her, and because she was interested in 212 uncovering how a seemingly normal individual could be capable of committing serial murder at the same time.
Inflated expectations. It is a common error on the part of the researcher to place too much emphasis on psychological processes, interpretations, and/or diagnoses. This is often done at the expense of other possible explanations that could have accounted for the subject’s behavioural repertoire throughout their life (Anderson, 1981a). Anderson (1981a) suggested that the researcher rather see psychology as being adjunct to other disciplines that may also explain the subject’s personality development. This means that the researcher should view her findings as mere speculation, and should recognise that psychology-based theory does not replace, but rather supplements existing explanations and understandings of the subject’s life (Anderson, 1981a;
Elovitz, 2003). Psychological justifications are by no means the only way to explain certain behaviours, decisions, or actions of an individual and should not be seen as an opportunity to rewrite history. Instead, Meissner (2003, as cited in Chéze, 2009) asserted “…that a psychobiographer’s creation is simply an approximation of a historical figure, which remains uncertain and heuristic rather than definitively factual” (p. 153). Thus, it is important that researchers are aware of the limitations attributed to psychobiographical studies, and should not see it as a universal remedy or solution to a wide range of problems or as an all-inclusive diagnostic tool (Anderson, 1981a).
While some psychohistorians and psychobiographers may believe that the psychobiographical approach serves as a research panacea, this is not always the case. During the process of his research, Fouché (1999) determined that inflated expectations are not as commonplace within the psychobiographical literature and research paradigm as expected. In 213 actuality, researchers’ apprehensiveness towards critics of psychobiographical research proved to be far more prevalent than the occurrence of inflated expectations itself.
Strategies applied. The present researcher is aware that the findings and explanations acquired from the psychobiographical study remain speculative and only serve to add to the already existing body of knowledge (Roets, 2015; Vorster, 2003). She effectively recognised the predominant utility of psychological theory in the case study of Bundy, and was aware that no single theory is able to uncover or explain Bundy’s personality development and life in its entirety. Thus, the application of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory only offered insight as far as the limitations of the theory would allow. Lastly, the researcher ensured that a large variety of examples were used in drawing conclusions to support the theoretical inferences made (Ellis &
Levy, 2009 as cited in McGivern, 2015).
Analysing an absent subject. When one thinks of extracting detailed, first-hand information from an individual, especially from a psychological perspective, the first thing that comes to mind is usually the act of going for therapy or counseling. However, unlike the process of psychotherapy, psychobiographers are often left with the disadvantage of only being able to collect data from public, secondary sources rather than from a living subject (De Vos et al.,
2011). Burnell (2013) referred to this as studying a subject “from a distance” (p. 168). As a result, many critics argue that pursuing psychobiographical research is a pointless endeavour since subjects cannot be questioned directly (Anderson, 1981a; De Vos et al., 2005; Munter,
1975). Additionally, researchers may find it difficult (or even impossible) to obtain necessary data about the subject during the data collection process, which serves as a further limitation
(Anderson, 1981a). 214
Nevertheless, researchers such as Anderson (1981a), and Mazlish and Demos (1978) have maintained that psychobiographers are in many respects in a more advantageous position than their psychotherapy counterparts are. Some of these benefits include (a) consulting multiple evidential sources and bodies of knowledge (e.g. biographies, interviews, letters, drawings, diary entries, or articles) to decipher the subject; (b) obtaining different perspectives or angles of the subject’s life and personality from various informants; and (c) having the ability to review the subject’s entire life in detail from start to finish. Another advantage inherent to analysing an absent subject is the researcher’s opportunity to construct a well-rounded, balanced portrait of the subject that highlights both adaptive, as well as maladaptive processes of behaviour (Elms,
1994; Mazlish & Demos, 1978). While psychotherapy also involves the identification of a client’s behavioural patterns, therapists are often inclined to focus only on maladaptive, dysfunctional or problematic aspects of the person’s personality or life (Anderson, 1981a;
Burnell, 2013; Mazlish & Demos, 1978).
Besides the above, Elms (1994) furthermore asserted that the study of an absent subject removes a number of ethical dilemmas that are usually immanent in qualitative research. As the individual is deceased, the number of harmful effects towards the subject decreases exponentially (Anderson 1981a). However, in rare cases where the subject is still alive, the researcher should always be cognisant of any impact the study may have on the individual. It is thus evident that the study of deceased individuals is not as futile as it might seem. In fact,
Jansen stated that it rather stimulates a broader view of lived lives and demands a more rigorous study of the subject that encompasses a deeper understanding of what makes a person who they are. 215
Strategies applied. To overcome any issues related to analysing an absent subject, the researcher recognised the importance of using multiple sources to fully comprehend and explain the reasons behind Bundy’s choice of behaviour. Thus, in order to provide the most accurate analysis and interpretation of his life, she made sure to collect a wealth of biographical data on
Bundy and his immediate circle of family and friends. Amongst the numerous sources collected were various books, such as Faces of Ted Bundy (Dawson, 2015), Ted Bundy: Conversations with a killer (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000), and The Bundy murders: A comprehensive history
(Sullivan, 2009); journal articles; televised series; online documentaries; available internet sources; and unpublished dissertations related to Bundy. The above-mentioned allowed the researcher the chance to cross-examine, back reference, and engage with the gathered material longitudinally (Burnell, 2013). Furthermore, the researcher applied data triangulation to validate and substantiate particular themes that presented themselves throughout the study (McAdams,
2005). By comparing different sources, the limitations linked to the analysis of an absent subject were drastically reduced and trustworthiness and consistency of the data could subsequently be assured. To facilitate the process of accuracy, the researcher also aimed to illuminate any discrepancies or contradictions found in the assemblage of information (Creswell, 1994).
Cross-cultural differences and issues of diversity. The development of an individual has a direct link to the circumstances that they grow up in (Berg, 1995). It is thus imperative that the researcher acknowledge every contextual aspect of a subject’s life within its distinctive timeframe to understand the cognitions and behaviours of the individual in its fullest capacity
(Berg, 1995). In psychobiographical research, this association relates to the occurrence of cross- cultural and gender differences that exist between the subject and the researcher (Anderson,
1981a; Elms, 1994). Given that most psychobiographical subjects are not contemporary figures, 216 researchers are frequently criticised for their application of modern psychological theories to individuals from different cultural backgrounds and historical periods (Anderson, 1981a;
Runyan, 1984). This means that current psychological concepts might not be as appropriate or cross-culturally sensitive to persons who deviate markedly from present ways of thinking and doing (Anderson, 1981a, 1981b). When psychobiographers fail to take into account these cultural and historical differences, they bias their interpretations and inadvertently surrender to ethnocentric and temporocentric5 belief systems (Runyan, 1984 as cited in Burnell, 2013).
In order to overcome this, researchers must recognise the context-bound nature of their chosen psychological theory (or theories) and familiarise themselves with the historical and cultural contexts that were unique to the subject’s life (Runyan, 1982). This process is vital for any researcher who wishes to develop an empathic understanding of the subject and wants to incorporate accurate contextual material into their interpretations of the individual (Anderson,
1981a, 1981b; Elms, 1994; Runyan, 1984). To achieve this, Anderson (1981a), and Flores and
Obasi (2003) suggested the use of the emic approach traditionally employed by anthropologists, as it allows the researcher to become acquainted with the specific culture of the subject from the perspectives of those who formed part of, or lived in the same culture. It furthermore aids the researcher in interpreting the meanings behind certain actions or statement made by the subject
(Neuman, 2006).
In terms of cross-gender issues, researchers need to be mindful of their beliefs concerning gender roles and/or gender stereotypes, as it can influence how they perceive a subject’s personality, behaviour, and overall lifestyle choices (Elms, 1994; Krizan, 2015). Examples of these assumptions include viewing females as being submissive, vulnerable, overemotional, or
5 Temporocentrism refers to the perception that one’s own time is of greater value than other periods in history. 217 dramatic, while viewing men as emotionally absent, logical, aggressive, or domineering.
Although gender forms a large part of one’s identity, psychobiographers should beware of reflecting their personal (and sometimes over-simplified) stereotypes onto their subjects (Krizan,
2015), as it could lead to skewed interpretations and misguided conclusions (Elms, 1994).
Strategies applied. The researcher held no cultural or gender-based similarities to Bundy.
The global, economic, social, political, and cultural period that Bundy inhabited differed greatly from that which the researcher is currently experiencing. While a malfunctioning, abusive family brought up Bundy in an all-American, post-World War environment (Michaud & Aynesworth,
2000), the researcher grew up in a traditional, staunch Afrikaans home with a tightly knit South
African family. As a result, the researcher recognised the need to minimise any cultural or gender bias while analysing and interpreting the subject. In an effort to bridge this cross- cultural, cross-gender and cross-historical gap, the researcher included additional information in her literature review pertaining to the political, cultural and social climate related to the period in which Bundy lived. She also acknowledged the context of Bundy’s development in an attempt to diminish any further misconceptions led by cross-cultural or gender differences. This is elaborated on in Chapter Three of the study.
Lastly, the researcher believes that she accepted the fact that Bundy was a male figure without instilling any of her own preconceived gender roles –or stereotypes onto him. Her broader aim was rather to view Bundy as a person from who she could extract worthwhile and meaningful ideas and novel interpretations to build on existing knowledge.
Reductionism. Many psychobiographical studies are criticised for placing too much emphasis on the use of fixed psychological formulae, which limit the number of possible conclusions that could be reached regarding a subject’s behaviour and personality formation 218
(Anderson, 1981a; Runyan, 1988a). Schultz (2005a) asserted that researchers tend to “over- simplify when they seek single aims” (p. 6). This error could lead to faulty or imprecise reasoning about gathered evidence and may produce unnecessary inconsistencies, contradictions, or confusion during the extensive process of subject analysis and conclusion drawing (Lieberson,
1985; Neuman, 2011). Unfortunately, the vexing ambiguities of life cannot always be answered or explained through single theoretical lenses or primed academic expectancies (Babbie, 2005;
Ponterotto, 2014; Schultz, 2005a). A strict limitation or ‘reduction’ of specific concepts to be considered relevant to a phenomenon under study is thus not ideal (Babbie, 2005). The problem, however, is not that reductionistic interpretations are altogether wrong– often it might yield many accuracies. According to Anderson (1981a, as cited in James, 2009) the actual dilemma is the “…implied claim that such interpretations explain all we need to know about a complex subject” (p. 13). Researchers should therefore be acutely aware of several reductionistic errors when writing a psychobiography in order to avoid a one-dimensional analysis (James, 2009).
One of the most frequently occurring forms of reductionism is that of pathography or overpathologising. Many researchers inadvertently reduce a subject’s life to a specific psychiatric syndrome or focus excessively on applying psychopathological features to certain individuals under investigation (Anderson, 1981a; McAdams, 1994; Runyan, 1988b; Schultz,
2005a). This is usually done at the expense of normalcy, health and creativity, as the emphasis is placed on the shortcomings, deficits, or weaknesses of the subject whilst ignoring their strengths or positive qualities and contributions (Alter, 2002; Anderson, 1981a; Elms, 1994; Schultz,
2005a). Meissner (2003), Runyan (1988b) and Scalapino (1999) explained that this methodological flaw has the ability to distort and diminish the complexity of the subject’s inner life and condenses their entire life to a neurotic tendency. 219
The above statement highlights the second form of reductionism namely the negligence of context. In many instances, researchers become so fixated with the idea of providing accurate diagnostic labels that they fail to take into account their subject’s unique social, cultural, political, historical, and religious contexts. The exclusion of these external factors reduces the analysis of the individual to a purely intrapsychic explanation of behaviour, as researchers sometimes disregard the importance of constructing a comprehensive life review of the subject
(Ponterotto, 2014; Runyan, 1988b). Instead, the researcher should acknowledge the holistic and intricate nature of the person under study (Elms, 1994; Howe, 1997).
A third type of reductionism occurs in instances where psychobiographers attempt to explain adult character and behaviour based exclusively upon childhood experience and influences, while turning a blind eye to any other later determinative factors or processes (Capps, 2010).
Erikson (1969) identified this reductionistic tendency as originology and further defined it as
“the habitual effort to find the ‘causes’ of a person’s whole development in his or her childhood conflicts” (p. 54, as cited in Capps, 2010). Given the controversial nature of continuity versus consistency in personality and developmental psychology (Meyer et al., 2008), psychobiographers should recognise that although childhood experiences are integral to personality development and provide a more detailed image of an individual, it should never be regarded as the only causal element thereof (McAdams, 1996; Schultz, 2005a). Rather, Capps
(2010) argued that instead of following a unilateral or unicausal approach, researchers should see personality development as a complex interactive cycle in which early experiences shape early character traits that influence the kind of environments one is likely to encounter later in life, and that in turn, affects later experience and consequent personality alteration and/or growth. 220
Capps (2010) and Mack (1971) cited two other reductive concerns worthy of discussion, namely critical-period fallacy and eventism. Critical-period fallacy arises when there is an overemphasis of one ‘critical’ developmental period (e.g. the first year or Oedipal period of the subject’s life) while other, later phases are ignored or disregarded as having value. Although research suggests that there are certain critical developmental stages that correspond to particular functions such as sensory or motor input, it is a misconception that a particular childhood period is responsible for an individual’s entire personality construction (Spinks, 2014). Parallel to this is the issue of eventism. This refers to the notion that one key or ‘traumatic’ event (e.g. witnessing a death firsthand as a child) determines the subject’s personality development through adulthood, and is the key ingredient to understanding his or her behaviour (Mack, 1971). One episode in a subject’s life thus acted as the turning point or prototype from which all other subsequent events and actions stemmed (Capps, 2010).
In order to counteract or minimise reductionistic errors, psychobiographers, and researchers alike should engage in extensive research based on multiple sources of information (Anderson,
1981a, Runyan, 1988b). These include first and third person accounts, as well as primary and secondary sources (e.g. books, articles, study reports, and archival material) that extend throughout the data collection and analysis phase (Elms, 1994; Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2005b).
The portrayal of accurate evidence is vital in the execution of a successful research study; thus, the process of checking and verifying information and facts ought to be a firmly established practice within the researcher to avoid any further form of psychological reductionism
(Anderson, 1981a; McAdams, 1996; Schultz, 2005a).
Another strategy to curtail reductionism involves avoiding the excessive application of esoteric terms and psychological jargon. The use of terminology reserved only for those with 221 specialised knowledge about a particular field (such as psychology) does not necessarily indicate the presence of adequate explanations. Rather, it leads to added confusion and a greater probability of reductionistic connotations (Anderson, 1981a; Elovitz, 2003; Runyan, 1988b).
Elms (1994) furthermore recommended that psychobiographers employ a eugraphic approach to their research, as it encourages health, normality, and positive adjustment instead of pathography. This approach reduces the chance of overpathologising the individual under study and gives a sense of stability or balance to the person’s life. Lastly, it is always important for the researcher to evaluate a subject holistically and in terms of his specific contexts (Izenberg, 2003;
Simonton, 2003). Psychobiographers should appreciate the many layers inherent to a person’s personality and should recognize the complex interplay that exists between the individual and their unique set of sociohistorical and sociocultural backgrounds (Burnell, 2013; Howe, 1997).
Any resultant interpretation or conclusion should thus incorporate psychological elements with other influential external components to achieve evidence that lies beyond mere psychologically orientated reductionism (Anderson, 1981a; Fouché, 1999, 2005b; Howe, 1997; McAdams, 1994;
Runyan, 1988b). Ponterotto (2014) referred to the above as the process of expansionism and stated that psychobiographers should attend to “…the full life review of the historical subject”
(p. 81). Atkinson and Delamont (2005) moreover suggested the application of various data analysis methods, as it seemingly illuminated the different social and cultural dimensions of the particular subject under investigation.
Strategies applied. In the current study, the researcher undertook an extensive and thorough literature study in an effort to avoid the production of a narrow, reductionistic outlook on
Bundy’s life. Although the application of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory took precedence over other theoretical paradigms, she ensured the use of multiple sources, psychological and 222 otherwise, to gain a holistic and detailed understanding of Bundy’s personality, his background and consequent behavioural manifestations. Furthermore, the researcher acknowledged that her choice of theory is complex and intensive. Thus, she at all times attempted to adequately unpack and explain the psychological jargon that she used, to make it accessible and understandable for readers. Despite the fact that serial murderers such as Bundy are generally perceived to be immoral, wicked, or evil in all respects, the researcher made sure to discuss both normal and pathological behaviours in terms of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory. While she cannot deny or downplay Bundy’s wrongful actions, the researcher hoped that the latter would provide a more balanced interpretation of his life - within her specific theoretical framework - where both pathological and eugraphic elements present in Bundy’s personality makeup, could be considered equally. The researcher is of the opinion that she successfully minimised the possibility of making reductionistic errors through the application of the above and supplied the reader with a comprehensive life review of Bundy.
Infinite amount of biographical data. Psychobiographical research involves sorting through an infinite amount of data, leaving researchers with the dilemma of having too many biographical sources and materials at their disposal (Anderson, 1981a; Hancock & Algozzine,
2006; McAdams, 1994; Schultz, 2005a). This predicament often leads to feelings of confusion, frustration and disheartenment on the part of the psychobiographer, and needs to be strategically managed to extract the most relevant and accurate information for inclusion in the study (Baker,
2011). In this study, the researcher primarily used the data reduction method proposed by Miles and Huberman (1994) as a guideline to simplify the masses of data obtained and to ascertain which information was most pertinent to include in the research. Additionally, Anderson (1981b) recommended the employment of a split-half approach to effectively deal with copious amounts 223 of gathered data. This approach entails the division of collected information into two sections.
The researcher uses the first segment to identify and assess the anticipated theoretical propositions, constructs and themes, while the second segment serves to compare and test the propositions, constructs and themes previously identified. The researcher, for example, may split the data into two categories such as (1) published books and journal articles, and (2) internet sources and archival material. By then comparing the two, the researcher is able to determine whether any identified constructs or hypotheses in the first half correspond or contradict that of the second half (Anderson, 1981b, as cited in Chéze, 2009). Apart from the above strategy, psychobiographers could also use their chosen theory to govern exactly what forms of material are applicable to their particular study and which information they can discard (Green, 2006).
Strategies applied. In this study, the researcher adapted and implemented Miles and
Huberman’s (1994) three-step approach to qualitative data analysis to examine the biographical sources related to Bundy, and to initiate the process of data reduction. In instances where she could not decide whether to retain or discard information, she employed the split-half approach or matched data to her theories in order to establish its relevancy. In constructing the literature review on Bundy, the researcher was attentive to identifying, documenting, and cross-referencing any themes or patterns that emerged. In return, these were then used for further data collection to expand on the researcher’s reconstruction and analysis of Bundy’s life. Furthermore, she was cognisant of any discrepancies that arose between sets of data or information. She explored these inconsistencies thoroughly to ensure that any data included was trustworthy and correct. Even though the researcher possessed an abundance of material on Bundy, she noticed distinct limitations as well. These included a lack of pictures of Bundy as an infant and toddler, and an absence of knowledge on Bundy’s biological father, whom has until this day, remains unknown. 224
Lastly, McGivern (2015) asserted that Bundy’s denial of certain sexual acts or violent behavior, shed light on repressed material, which is deliberated on in more detail in Chapter Six.
Elitism and easy genre. Aside from criticisms directed at its design and methodology, many researchers think of psychobiography as being elitist and as an easy genre to accomplish
(Runyan, 1988b). Elitism refers to the notion that psychobiography focuses solely on privileged, influential individuals such as royalty, political leaders, artists or entertainers, without regard for the experiences of the general population or less prominent figures in history (Runyan, 1988b;
Schultz, 2005a; Simonton, 1994). However, Howe (1997) and Runyan (1988b) contested this misrepresentation by stating that the true focus of psychobiographical research should be on the personality development of an individual. Thus, a research subject from any background or class could be chosen to realise this goal and build on the scientific knowledge base of psychology.
The researcher should therefore select a subject with personality characteristics (e.g. anti-social traits) suited to their research topic and chosen theory, rather than centering their research on a person’s social stratum (Elms, 1994; Runyan, 1988b).
Psychobiographies have also been criticised for being too easy a genre of research when compared to other forms of academic studies (Schultz, 2005b). This assumption claims that writing a psychobiography requires minimal effort, since it follows a foreseeable path, using established developmental theories (Runyan, 1988a; Schultz, 2005b). This may be true for poorly written, superficially structured psychobiographies, but holds no truth for high-quality psychobiographies that may pose an extraordinary challenge to even the most adept researchers
(Elms, 1994; Runyan, 1988b). A good psychobiography encompasses the collection of an extensive range of information from a variety of sources that aids the researcher in the production of a coherent and consistent representation of the subject. Thus, the researcher needs 225 to construct a comprehensive narrative of the individual under study to elucidate the mysteries behind their life, personality formation, and chosen behavioural repertoire (Schultz, 2005b).
Additionally, the researcher needs to obtain a complete understanding of the sociohistorical and sociocultural context of the subject so that further insights may be formulated and interpreted
(Anderson, 1981a; Runyan, 1984; Schultz, 2005b). A satisfactory psychobiography therefore demands thorough research capabilities, excellent literary skills, and sound psychological knowledge in order to analyse, understand, and apply theory to the subject under investigation
(McAdams, 1994; Runyan, 1988b; Schultz, 2005b).
Strategies applied. The researcher opposes the claim of elitism and easy genre in writing a psychobiography. However, various critics and reviewers might contend that a psychobiographical study on Ted Bundy is an elitist venture that holds little value within a South
African context. A related remark might be that any further exploration of an American serial killer’s life may be exploitative or uninteresting, as an ample number of biographical studies on
Bundy exist - making this endeavour unnecessary and easy.
As mentioned earlier in the chapter, the researcher chose Bundy as her unit of analysis due to his horrific deeds and captivating personality composition - not because of his social standing.
No one can possibly label Bundy as being one of America’s most affluent or important citizens.
It was only after his arrests and ensuing electrocution that he gained the status of being one of the most infamous criminals documented in American history. Consequently, it disqualifies elitism in its application to the study of Bundy, as notoriety is not equivalent to privilege. As for the study’s relevance to the South African context, the researcher believes that South Africa’s judicial system, police force, correctional services department, and its general population can benefit greatly from more developmental studies aimed at analysing abnormal, malicious, or 226 violent behaviour and corresponding personality types. Compared to most other countries, crime is a substantial problem in South Africa with rapidly growing instances of murder, rape and assault (England, 2016; Pistorius, 2002). This means that South Africa is presently struggling with a prevalent culture of violence that “…is hampering the country’s social cohesion”
(England, 2016, para. 12). Thus, the intensive study of Bundy’s case may serve as a template to build on psychological theory associated with various personality disorders and bring forth an enriched understanding of why people commit these heinous forms of crime. This could also potentially produce new avenues for therapeutic intervention, enhance psychopharmacological treatment strategies, and assist with the prevailing difficulties in studying the causes of personality disorders (Butcher, Mineka & Hooley, 2013).
Concerning the second criticism, almost all of the biographies written on Bundy took on a literary stance with the intention of reiterating the story of his life and the crimes he committed.
They were not, however, psychologically orientated. In cases where articles or books did involve some psychological aspect, clinical diagnoses usually superseded any form of developmental theory. In reply to the last remark stating that a psychobiographical study on Bundy is an effortless and undemanding task, the researcher would strongly disagree. Her study took on a multidimensional and holistic approach that included the investigation of Bundy’s entire life from an extremely complex theoretical framework, which made it highly time-consuming.
Moreover, the researcher used triangulation to source out the most accurate data forms and theoretical information to ensure trustworthiness and saliency of the study.
Trustworthiness of data. One of the greatest concerns regarding the qualitative methodology of psychobiography involves the trustworthiness of data, (Maxwell, 2013; Runyan,
1982a, 1983; Yin, 1994) as the concepts of validity and reliability are addressed differently in 227 terms of subjective, naturalistic work than in quantitative studies (Shenton, 2004). Criticisms related to the objectivity, generalisability, and trustworthiness of social research is therefore placed under frequent scrutiny (Peräkylä, 2004). Achieving a high degree of plausibility in quantitative research is straightforward, as the findings usually adhere to strict methodological rules and scientific standards (Hays & Singh, 2012). These findings are judged according to conventional or more traditional forms of criteria such as (1) internal validity; (2) external validity; (3) reliability; and (4) objectivity (De Vos et al., 2011; Hays &Singh, 2012; Yin, 2003,
2009). However, qualitative researchers typically consider these constructs as unsuitable for demonstrating the “true value” of a qualitative research study. This is mostly because the above constructs are too rigid in design to portray the subjective perceptions and opinions of subjects wholly and truly (De Vos et al., 2011, p. 419).
Due to this lack of scientific rigour, many academics and fellow researchers have criticised the extent to which psychobiographical studies are valid and reliable. Moreover, the lack of controls and difficulty in generalising and/or reproducing findings in case study research has caused many researchers to be critical of its methodology (Mays & Pope, 1995; Runyan, 1983,
1988b; Shenton, 2004; Simonton, 2003; Yin, 1994, 2003). Nevertheless, writers such as Krefting
(1991), Lincoln and Guba (1985), and Silverman (2001) have demonstrated that alternative measures can be implemented to address issues of trustworthiness that are more suited to qualitative studies. A good example of this is Guba’s (1981) model of trustworthiness in which he suggested four criteria that replace the constructs customarily used in quantitative research.
These are credibility, transferability, dependability, and confirmability. Later, Lincoln and
Denzin (2003) also proposed a fifth criterion, namely authenticity. These concepts, along with 228 the techniques and precautions implemented to address issues of validity and reliability throughout the study, are discussed below.
Credibility. In qualitative studies, the term credibility is equivalent to the concept of internal validity used in quantitative research (De Vos et al., 2011; Hays & Singh, 2012).The goal of credibility is to establish how congruent the research findings are in terms of real life situations
(Shenton, 2004). Thus, it describes the degree to which the findings of the study are believable or truthful when compared to the views and perceptions of participants –or in this case, the views and corresponding behaviours of Bundy (Babbie & Mouton, 2001; De Vos et al., 2011; Hays &
Singh, 2012). Gilgun (1994) furthermore stated that credibility demonstrates whether the content of the research adequately and accurately substantiates the conclusions drawn from the data. This means that the researcher must describe and explore the subject to such an extent that the interactions and complexities of the variables illustrated in the research can be nothing but consistent within her study and thus, also valid.
Lincoln and Guba (1985) asserted that the best-known technique for establishing credibility is through “member checks” (p. 134) where participants are asked to comment on the accuracy of the researcher’s collection of data and subsequent findings (Shenton, 2004). This gives them the opportunity to provide alternative interpretations or correct certain contexts that were misunderstood by the researcher (Loh, 2013). The researcher cannot however, implement this technique in cases where the unit of analysis is deceased (as is the case in this research study). In these instances, Brewer and Hunter (1989, as cited in Shenton, 2004) suggested an additional form of member checking, also known as analyst -or investigator triangulation, which involves
“…the verification of the investigator’s emerging theories and inferences…” (p. 68). This method allows, for example, supervisors, academic researchers, psychology lecturers or peers to 229 review the researcher’s work to reduce bias and validate the content of the study (Lincoln &
Guba, 1985; Flick, 2006; Sokolovsky, 1996).
Aside from using member checks, the researcher may use triangulation to obtain credibility.
Triangulation refers to the implementation of various data sources –and methods such as interviews, observation, focus groups, or theoretical orientations in one’s research study. This produces and enhances one’s understanding of the research content, themes and theory, corroborates research findings, and minimises any distortions based on single sources or biased researchers (Denzin, 1978; Flick, 2006; Krefting, 1991; Patton, 1999). It also serves to ensure that the study is content-rich, comprehensive, and well-rounded in all areas (Denzin, 1978).
Besides analyst triangulation, Denzin (1978) and Patton (1999) identified three other types of triangulation that the researcher may use to make her research content more credible. These are:
(1) data triangulation, which refers to the use of multiple data sources to validate the same fact or piece of information, (2) theory –or perspective triangulation, which entails the accumulation of various theoretical perspectives to examine and interpret the same set of data, and (3) methods triangulation, which involves the employment of several data collection methods to test the overall consistency of the research findings. All of the above forms of triangulation, except for theory triangulation, were used in this study in order to obtain maximum credibility.
Strategies applied. Even though internal validity – or in this case, credibility – serves a greater purpose in causal or explanatory case studies (Neuman, 2011), authors such as Flick
(2006), Krefting (1991), and Lincoln and Guba (1985) emphasised that it is still imperative to maintain a high level of credibility no matter what form of research a researcher is dealing with.
To ensure that her content and theoretical inferences were sound, the present researcher consulted both her supervisors for additional help. The goal was to assess whether other 230 researchers or academics would derive similar conclusions if they were confronted with the same assemblage of data (Flick, 2006). This verification of conclusions assisted the researcher in identifying any biased perceptions or distorted interpretations that she may have overlooked.
Furthermore, the researcher engaged with the literature on the life of Bundy over an extended period to guarantee that an in-depth analysis of multiple sources on him was achieved.
In terms of data triangulation, the researcher examined and cross-referenced numerous sources to either prevent or overcome any literary or theoretical misunderstandings that may have hampered the study’s credibility and accuracy.
Transferability. Transferability is analogous to external validity in quantitative research
(Lincoln & Guba, 1985, as cited in Hays & Singh, 2012). Thus, transferability translates to the degree to which findings from one research study are generalisable or ‘transferable’ to a broader population, other contexts, situations or cases, or different respondents (Babbie & Mouton, 2001;
De Vos et al., 2011; Hays & Singh, 2012; Shenton, 2004). Even though the inability to generalise results has functioned as a continuous point of criticism against the use of case study research (Runyan, 2005), Willig (2001) maintained that the applicability of research findings to other contexts should not be the qualitative researcher’s main goal. Instead, researchers such as psychobiographers should focus on understanding a single case or unit of analysis in-depth in terms of their complex internal dynamics. This means that the emphasis should rather be on comparing the research findings to a chosen psychological theory (that is, analytical generalisation) in order to test the level of accuracy the certain theory holds (Yin, 1994). As a result, the unique circumstances of the subject are highlighted (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
Lincoln and Guba (1985) stated that the best technique to achieve transferability in one’s research is through the provision of thick descriptions – usually obtained through methods of 231 triangulation (Rudestam & Newton, 2001). Giving a detailed account of a particular phenomenon enables the researcher to evaluate the extent to which the findings and conclusions drawn from the study are relevant and transferable to different settings, time periods, circumstances or people
(Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Contrastingly, thin descriptions only provide superficial portrayals of events and phenomena under study (Holloway, 1997; Lincoln & Guba, 1985).
Strategies applied. Given the fact that the generalisation of findings to a larger population was not an objective of this study, the researcher did not aspire to satisfy the criteria associated with external validity (Fouché, 1999). Instead, she made it her goal to investigate a single unit of analysis (Bundy) through the in-depth analysis of his personality development and the comprehensive documentation of his life. The researcher subsequently compared and generalised the findings and conclusions drawn from the above to Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory via the process of analytical generalisation.
Dependability. Dependability refers to the ability of research findings to be consistent if they were to be replicated or repeated over time by different researchers (Hays & Singh, 2012;
Lincoln & Guba, 1985). It is also comparable to the term reliability used in quantitative methodology (De Vos et al., 2011). Fidel (1993) and Marshall and Rossman (1999) asserted that although quantitative researchers are able to obtain similar results in instances where studies were repeated using the same context, methods and participants due to a more scientifically rigorous process, this is not the case for qualitative studies such as psychobiographies. This is mostly due to the “…constantly changing nature of social phenomena scrutinised by qualitative enquirers” (Fidel & Marshall, 1999 as cited in Shenton, 2004, p. 71). Rather, Lincoln and Guba
(1985) proposed that the pursuit towards more dependable results in case study research should be related to the consistency of the research findings concerning the research question or aim, the 232 data collection process, and the analysis of different materials. Thus, the dependability of the research study will rest on elements such as logical reasoning, precise and detailed documenting of the data, and accurate auditing (De Vos et al., 2011).
Flick (2006) stated that the researcher could achieve dependability through documenting the entire research process in fine detail – thereby highlighting the use of thick descriptions. The researcher should therefore ensure that as many steps of the research process as possible be operationalised in such a way that others could repeat the procedures and arrive at similar conclusions (Rudestam & Newton, 2001). Yin (2009) referred to this process as compiling a case study protocol. Additional techniques for enhancing the dependability of the research findings include: (a) external auditing by consulting others on one’s work; and (b) triangulation – to obtain multiple perspectives of subjective experiences (Flick, 2006; Krefting, 1991; Lincoln &
Guba, 1985; Willig, 2001).
Strategies applied. To strengthen the dependability of the study and confirm an appropriate level of consistency, the researcher made use of an external audit by consulting her supervisors for additional assistance pertaining to the overall process and product of the research study. By doing so, she was able to assess whether or not her findings, interpretations, and conclusions were supported by the data and consequently, whether her content proved to be reliable (Lincoln
& Guba, 1985). The researcher also consulted an extensive array of sources through the process of triangulation. This was done to make certain that any information gathered on Bundy was examined from all angles and coincided with each other regarding general content, reoccurring themes and patterns, demographic information, theoretical perspectives, and overall concluding remarks and recommendations (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003). 233
Confirmability. Confirmability stands parallel to the traditional concepts of objectivity and neutrality in quantitative research studies (De Vos et al., 2011; Hays & Singh, 2012).
Accordingly, it is the qualitative counterpart of construct validity, which considers the use of accurate definitions and explanations of concepts within a study (Burnell, 2013; Gilgun, 1994;
Yin, 2009). Thus, it can be said that confirmability relates to the extent to which the research findings are the sole product of collected data and information that are free of the researcher’s biased inferences, motivations, expectations, or interests (Hays & Singh, 2012; Krefting, 1991;
Lincoln & Guba, 1985). This means that the researcher must hold a neutral position throughout the entire research process without influencing the direction that the study takes (Denzin &
Lincoln, 2000; Edwards, 1998). Shenton (2004) elaborated on this by stating that the findings must be “…the result of the experiences and ideas of the informants, rather than the characteristics and preferences of the researcher” (p. 72).
Although the above recommendations would be ideal, Patton (2002) maintained that complete objectivity is unrealistic and is particularly challenging in case study research. It is an inevitable fact that a researcher’s biases will, in some way or another, infringe her studies – be it a conscious effort or not. Instead, Miles and Huberman (1994) suggested that the first step in truly enhancing the confirmability of one’s research is to acknowledge one’s own predispositions through reflexive analysis. Another technique for establishing an adequate level of confirmability is through the development of an audit trail (Krefting, 1991). Auditing not only offers “ongoing reflective commentary” (Shenton, 2004, p. 72) or a self-critical account of how the research was done, but allows readers and other professionals to follow the progression of the research in a systematic manner in terms of the researcher’s decision-making process and method of interpretation (Creswell, 1998; Flick, 2006; Yin, 1994). The auditor can subsequently determine 234 the overall quality of the study by following a chain of evidence, which in turn, may aid the researcher in developing reliable findings (Yin, 1994). Furthermore, the researcher could implement data triangulation using multiple data sources or thick descriptions to consolidate confirmability within the study (Gilgun, 1994; Shenton, 20014).
Strategies applied. To overcome the above-mentioned criticism towards case study research, the researcher made certain to journal any of her predilections and preconceptions that she had towards Bundy (see Appendix B on reflexive analysis). This helped her to become more aware of her thoughts and feelings towards him and prevented her from inadvertently applying those judgments to her research. Moreover, the researcher ensured that she left no room for ambiguity by clearly conceptualising all the constructs related to Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory. The researcher also maintained an audit trail (Krefting, 1991) through methodically recording the entire process she underwent throughout the study. All of the collected documentation concerning the research process that could facilitate the audit and serve as confirmation of reliability were retained and filed. These included information pieces such as raw data, reduced and analysed forms of data, synthesised work, and personal process notes (Chéze, 2009). Finally, the researcher once again employed data triangulation to maximise her study’s degree of confirmability.
Authenticity. A lesser-known criterion for establishing trustworthiness is authenticity. The correct implementation of authenticity becomes apparent in studies where the researcher has clearly shown a satisfactory amount of impartiality or fairness towards the subject, their actions, and their specific circumstances (Guba & Lincoln, 1989, 2005). Authenticity is also the result of research studies that express a variety of different perspectives, realities or truths that the researcher views as holding equal value (Hays & Singh, 2012). Although authenticity and 235 confirmability may sound similar in that both attempt to embody participant perspectives accurately, Hays and Singh (2012) and Denzin and Lincoln (2003) explained that there are, in fact, subtle differences between the two. Where confirmability applies to methodological criteria, authenticity relates more to theoretical criteria.
Denzin and Lincoln (2003, as cited in Onwuegbuzie, Leech, & Collins, 2008) furthermore stated that two forms of authenticity exist that are applicable to case study research, and more particularly, psychobiographical studies. These are ontological authenticity and educative authenticity (p. 8). Ontological authenticity refers to the ability of the research study to develop the readers understanding of the studied phenomenon further, whereas educative authenticity facilitates the reader to develop a deeper appreciation of the perspectives of individuals (that is, the subject or participants) other than themselves (Onwuegbuzie et al., 2008). While other forms of authenticity such as catalytic authenticity and tactical authenticity exist (Onwuegbuzie et al.,
2008, p. 9), Guba and Lincoln (1989) argued that they hold no value in terms of psychobiographical research, as they require further action from participants – psychobiographical subjects are mostly deceased.
Strategies applied. As in confirmability, the researcher made sure to journal all of her thoughts and feelings towards Bundy so that she could achieve a sufficient degree of reflexivity and open-mindedness in her research. She additionally attempted to take into account the views and experiences of third-party participants such as forensic specialists, psychologists, policemen, family members, friends, and employers who knew Bundy, which she obtained from sources including books, internet sources, and archival material. Lastly, the researcher focused on developing the two above-mentioned forms of authenticity in her study by explaining the 236 phenomenon in a simple, yet efficient way, and highlighting the multiple theoretical and subject perspectives thoroughly and equally to enhance trustworthiness within her research.
Reflexivity
Hammersley and Atkinson (2007, as cited in Hays & Singh, 2012) succinctly described reflexivity as “…the active self-reflection of an investigator on the research process” (p. 137) in qualitative studies. In a broader sense, this refers to the researcher’s ability to contemplate, or reflect on her own thought processes, emotional reactions, and worldviews in terms of the social sphere that she is investigating (Creswell, 2014; Denscombe, 2003; Hays & Singh, 2012;
Maxwell, 2013). Thus, qualitative researchers have the task of recognising and understanding that they form part of the social group that they are studying and that they will inevitably affect it, or be affected by it (Maxwell, 2013). The latter ultimately diminishes any prospect of attaining an entirely objective position from which to study any social phenomenon. This is because the researcher’s innate perspectives, interpretations, values, and norms that she acquired during their lifetime will naturally contaminate the social world under study (Creswell, 2014; Hays & Singh,
2012). Due to the above, Stake (1995, as cited in Hays & Singh, 2012) stated that the
“…reflexivity of the researcher becomes a lens into the research process itself” (p. 137) and facilitates researchers in identifying the restrictions they place on research (Stroud, 2004). It is not surprising then, that the degree to which a researcher is able to apply reflexivity throughout the research process, directly influences how trustworthy a study is (Morrow, 2005). To undermine the complex relationship between the researcher and subject regarding their unique experiences that give meaning to their social realities, is to reduce the validity of the research findings (Maturana, 1991; Willig, 2001). 237
Willig (2008) distinguished two types of reflexivity namely: personal reflexivity and epistemological reflexivity. Personal reflexivity considers how the researcher’s values, beliefs, interests, and religious, political, and cultural systems effect the direction of her research study, whereas epistemological reflexivity is more concerned with the process of generating knowledge within a study (Willig, 2008). Woll (2013) indicated that the best way to practice reflexivity in research is by using a process diary, as it creates awareness of one’s biased perceptions and interpretations, and highlights the patterns of one’s thoughts and emotional reactions. This method also promotes objectivity (Woll, 2013).
Strategies applied. In this research study, the researcher maintained reflexivity by documenting her thoughts, feelings, and experiences in journal format. This allowed her to describe, explore, reflect on, and communicate her experiences within the unique context of the research study to avoid unnecessary bias (Chéze, 2009). Furthermore, the researcher ensured that she incorporated a brief reflexive analysis throughout various sections of her study. These can be found in Chapter One under the ‘The Researcher’s Personal Reflection’ section and in Appendix
B.
Ethical Considerations
Ethical considerations should always be at the forefront of any psychological research study
(Green, 2006). Failing to act in accordance with even the most basic ethical standards could not only hold serious implications for the researcher, but could cause extensive psychological damage to the subject and his or her family and friends (American Psychological Association
[APA], 2010). Although a limited set of guidelines pertaining to the rights and responsibilities of psychobiographers exist, Elms (1994) maintained that they still have the obligation of remaining ethically sound. This means, for example, that psychobiographers have a moral duty to treat all 238 of their acquired information on a subject with the necessary amount of caution and respect
(Elms, 1994). Furthermore, the researcher is expected to be mindful of any parties that could potentially suffer embarrassment or harm due to the study. In instances where the researcher encounters highly sensitive or personal information that is unknown to the public, the researcher should use her professional discretion to weigh the costs and benefits of exposing such information, as it could lead to the invasion of privacy (APA, 2010; Elms, 1994; Runyan, 1984).
The American Psychological Association (2002) established no ethical recommendations concerning the conception of psychobiographical research. Thus, the guidelines are taken from the American Psychiatric Association (1976); these ethical guidelines steer psychobiographers in the right direction (Ponterotto, 2014; Runyan, 1982). These guidelines assert that psychobiographies should preferably be carried out on subjects that are deceased or ‘long-dead’ so that their entire life history can be taken into consideration when performing the research study (American Psychiatric Association, 1976). In the event of a subject still being alive, it is pertinent for the researcher to first gain informed consent from the individual to prevent him from suffering any form of adverse embarrassment, shock, anxiety, or psychological trauma
(APA, 1976; Shahnazarian, 2013). It should, however, be mentioned that in instances where close relatives and acquaintances have outlived the subject, the researcher is still compelled to ask their permission before she commences with the study (APA, 1976). Other ethical standards that need to be adhered to include the researcher’s responsibility to (a) “…frame the context of their psychological evaluations” properly (p. 20); (b) stipulate any limitations and possible effects their assessments might have on others; (c) gain institutional approval before beginning their research; (d) avoid fabricating data; and (e) reference sources correctly and give credit where it is due (Ponterotto, 2013; APA, 2010). 239
Lastly, the Health Professions Council of South Africa (HPCSA, 2017) stated that although psychobiographical studies generally focus on deceased individuals, the researcher still needs to comply with a number of ethical rules as set out by their specific regulations and policy guidelines. These guidelines require that researchers not be in violation of any law or standards governing research, be it national or international, and that the study be free of any form of deceptive practices. Moreover, the researcher must publish and make available her data and associated findings of the study to those who would like to conduct further analyses on the topic with the aim of verifying or expanding on the research (HPCSA, 2017).
Strategies applied. The current researcher ensured at all times to remain ethically aware in all avenues of her research through the application of the above. Firstly, she proposed and submitted her study to the Faculty of Postgraduate Studies Committee to gain ethical approval to conduct her study. Relative to this, the FPGSC found that it was not necessary for the researcher to present her study to the Human Research Ethics Committee of the Faculty of Health Sciences at Nelson Mandela University, as Bundy is deceased. The fact that Bundy died in 1989 with little close familial or social ties posed fewer ethical challenges to the researcher, as (a) the potential of embarrassing or doing psychological harm to anyone was minimal, (b) information on Bundy was freely available and accessible to the public via a variety of sources, (c) no informed consent was required to initiate the study, and (d) those who knew Bundy contributed towards the masses of information about him.
Nonetheless, the researcher ensured that all the data used in the compilation of her research study gained the necessary acknowledgement and that she referenced all of her sources dutifully.
Furthermore, she assured that her study adhered to the ethical guidelines set out by the American
Psychiatric Association and the Health Professions Council of South Africa. Lastly, the 240 researcher intends to publish her data and findings to make it available to those who would like to make further contributions to the study.
Conclusion
This chapter presented the reader with the primary research aim and supplementary objectives of the study. It furthermore indicated the specific research design and methodology used to represent psychobiographical enquiry adequately, and to explore the life of Bundy effectively and comprehensively. The above included a thorough explanation of the sampling procedure, subsequent unit of analysis (or psychobiographical subject), as well as the methods of data collection and analysis used to conduct the research. The chapter also introduced some pertinent methodological issues, or criticisms regarding the use of psychobiographical research, and accordingly provided viable strategies to account for, and minimise each of them. Lastly, the researcher supplied a brief discussion on the importance of ethics and researcher reflexivity in psychobiography. The following chapter deliberates the findings of this study.
241
CHAPTER 6
FINDINGS AND DISCUSSION:
THE APPLICATION OF KERNBERG’S OBJECT RELATIONS THEORY TO THE
LIFE OF THEORDORE ROBERT BUNDY
“There is no coming to consciousness without pain. People will do anything, in order to avoid
facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by
making the darkness conscious” (Jung, 1968, p. 99).
Chapter Preview
The following chapter will outline and discuss the personality development of Theodore Robert
Bundy according to Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory. In order to afford the reader a detailed understanding of the theory – and of the overarching purpose of the research study as a whole – the researcher will firstly cross-reference the phenomenon of serial murder with the life and actions of Bundy. She will subsequently provide a brief conceptual outline regarding the presentation and discussion of the findings to encapsulate and reiterate the fundamental components considered in previous chapters. Hereafter, Bundy’s lived experiences and corresponding personality development will be analysed and explicated according to the interaction patterns that emerged throughout his life. The corresponding defense mechanisms that he used will also be highlighted.
Bundy and the Phenomenon of Serial Murder: A Systematic Review and Validation
In Chapters One and Three, the researcher highlighted the complex and disturbing nature of serial murder. To know that serial killers do not only exist in works of fiction is a bitter pill to swallow for most individuals. What is most disconcerting about this type of criminal, per se, is the fact that they make us acutely aware of the unpredictability of our surrounds, and 242 subsequently have the ability to rob us of our basic trust in the human condition (also see
Appendix B). Hickey (1997) and Schlesinger (2000, as cited in Knight, 2006, p. 1190) corroborated the latter statement by asserting that serial killers exhibit “a type of abnormal behaviour which breaches the boundaries of consensual rationality and normality”. This is because their violent acts depict an unrivaled propensity for cruelty, hostility, and moral
‘blindness’ that is essentially absent in general civilisation (Dobrin, 2012; Knight, 2006). The difficulty, however, lies in society’s inability to instantaneously recognise or identify such individuals, as serial murderers have the uncanny ability to adapt to their environment in terms of physical appearance and social proficiency. Michaud and Aynesworth (1999) succinctly stated that, “people think a criminal is a hunchbacked, cross-eyed little monster slithering through the dark, leaving a trail of slime… [But], they’re human beings” (p. 13). Nevertheless, it is important to remember that the aforementioned is usually only a superficially orientated façade used to conceal their true nature and underlying intentions (Bonn, 2014; Gale, 2014). This deceptive form of behaviour is highly troubling, as these “…acts of insanity and terrorism…” are typically committed by individuals who are – psychologically speaking – sane (Knight, 2006, p. 1190).
It is for this precise reason that the researcher found it imperative to cross-reference the phenomenon of serial murder with the life and actions of Bundy before applying it to Kernberg’s
Object Relations Theory. Not only does this provide the reader with a practical, real-world understanding and awareness of serial murder, but it elucidates the environmental and social conditions that may stimulate or trigger the development of personality disorders commonly associated with serial killers (for example, antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and/or narcissistic personality disorder). This, in turn, may facilitate the timely identification of individuals who have the potential to become destructive towards themselves 243 and others so that an attempt at early intervention can be made. Lastly, it serves to corroborate that Bundy was a serial murderer. The researcher plans to validate the aforementioned by correlating Bundy’s life experiences, behavioural repertoire, and personality characteristics described in Chapter Three, to those related to serial killers in general.
To recapitulate, Pistorius (2005) defined serial murder as a phenomenon where a person (or persons):
…murder[s] several victims, usually strangers, at different times and not necessarily at the
same location, with an [emotional] cooling-off period in between. The motive is intrinsic; an
irresistible compulsion, fueled by fantasy which may lead to torture and/or sexual abuse,
mutilation and necrophilia (p. 75).
Pistorius’s (2005) description of serial murder is undeniably relevant in terms of its application to Bundy. According to Dobbert (2009), Bundy confessed to killing more than 30 random young women across different states of America over the duration of four years. This variability in location is also demonstrated through Bundy’s rather opportunistic choice of kidnapping sites, as he abducted (and subsequently murdered) his victims from dormitory rooms, sorority houses, university grounds, school yards, student taverns, hotels, and public roads and parks (Dawson,
2015; Keppel & Birnes, 2005; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Concerning his cooling-off period, Bundy’s restrained intervals, or ‘episodes of normality’ lasted for approximately a month at a time. During these periods of dormancy, he would go about life in general by studying, working, or spending time with colleagues and friends. However, as his killings escalated and intensified, his cooling-off period began to diminish substantially to the point where his overriding compulsions drove him to attack six women within a 24-hour timeframe (Dawson,
2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). 244
The latter statement furthermore proves the significance of sexual urges or compulsions in identifying and discriminating serial murderers from other types of killers (for example, mass -or spree killers) (Pistorius, 2005). Bundy’s murders were undoubtedly motivated by a very deep- seated, overwhelming, and intrinsic need to kill. Although he engaged in criminal activities such as shoplifting, petty theft, burglary, and grand theft auto, these actions were unrelated to his abductions and murders, and occurred during separate instances where no victims were involved
– the two never merged (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000; Rule, 2017). Thus, his need to kill had nothing to do with material gain, but had everything to do with satiating a psychological need.
Bundy’s irresistible compulsion was therefore fueled by reoccurring sexual fantasies that he ultimately transferred to reality in an attempt to reenact, expand, and perfect his desires through rape, murder, and post-mortem practices such as decapitation, mutilation and necrophilia
(MacCulloch, Snowden, Wood, & Mills, 1983; Prentky et al., 1989). It is therefore the researcher’s contention that the more Bundy rehearsed and acted out his fantasies on young women, the stronger his association between his specific fantasies, sexual arousal, and violence became (MacCulloch et al., 1983; Prentky et al., 1989).
The following table depicts the general characteristics related to serial killers and their victims as mentioned in Chapter Three. These dimensions exceed the simplistic or generic definition of serial murder and consider factors that are beyond the perpetrator’s control such as genetic, social, and environmental conditions. It is important to note that the characteristics mentioned below do not apply to all serial killers, but are rather commonly observable, correlative traits gathered through years of research on the subject by various clinicians and authors. Thus, discrepancies may arise in terms of the reader’s choice of subject application. This table, however, will solely focus on the application of serial murder to Bundy’s circumstances 245 and subsequent actions. Lastly, it should also be mentioned that the examples given of Bundy in the table are prominent events that repeatedly occurred in his life or have unquestionable significance and relevance to the development of his thoughts, behaviour, and personality makeup. Not all the events discussed in Chapter Three are thus documented or applied within
Table Eight.
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TABLE 5: The Applicability of Serial Murderer Characteristics to Ted Bundy General Characteristics Application to Bundy Environmental or Situational Factors Dysfunctional family life with the presence Abandoned at Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers for three months while of abuse/neglect mother decided whether to keep him or not Lied to about parentage Observed and endured frequent domestic disputes that were physically violent and verbally abusive Exposed to pornography at a very young age Subjected to individuals with severe mental health issues Unstable/unfavourable/confusing living arrangements due to nomadic lifestyle Constant friction and animosity between Bundy and stepfather, Johnnie Father either literally/symbolically absent Biological father’s identity unknown – illegitimate child born out of wedlock – exhibits controlling/authoritative Grandfather served as primary father-figure behaviours during formative years Grandfather was extremely violent and aggressive, exhibited uncontrollable fits of rage, physically and mentally abused family, and demonstrated intolerance towards other races Had three separate father ‘substitutes’ by age seven – grandfather, uncle, and stepfather Mother is either rejecting/punitive or Mother (Louise) may be seen as ‘rejecting’ as she left her new born son at a smothering/controlling/infantilising home for unwed mothers for three months before taking him home with her She also rejected her role as ‘mother’ to avoid stigma, and subsequently took on the role of Bundy’s ‘sister’ Characterised as intensely private, quiet, and emotionally distant Grandmother thus served as mother-figure Grandmother suffered from severe mental health issues such as depressive psychosis, panic disorder, and agoraphobia – hospitalised on several occasions Behavioural Factors Negative affect, outbursts of Expressed noticeable and continuous feelings of frustration, anger, discomfort, uncontrollable rage/aggression, nervousness, animosity, shame, rage, insecurity, agony, deprivation, defiance, impulsive/bizarre behaviour, random isolation, bitterness, and inadequacy from a young age mood swings, unappeasable sex drive 247
- Became overwhelmed by change, such as the introduction of a new school teacher - Felt discriminated against, deprived, and ashamed because others had ‘more’ than him or were wealthier than him - Perceived himself as ‘too small’ or unattractive to take part take part in extracurricular activities - Blamed himself and felt traumatised for not making it into sport teams - Acted defiantly towards Johnnie for ‘stealing’ his mother away from him - Isolated himself to avoid spending time with Johnnie Experienced regular outbursts of uncontrollable rage/anger - Smashed his mother’s wedding cake with his bare hands because he did not approve of the wedding - Displayed recurrent violent and aggressive temper tantrums during school and outside settings if he did not get his way - Acted defiantly to resist disciplinary actions from teachers and Johnnie - Responded in an overly defensive and threatening manner when others questioned his intentions or actions (for example, during interrogations) - Sought revenge to hurt individuals who offended or upset him (for example, Stephanie Brooks) - Viciously assaulted, raped, murdered, and dismembered young women Regularly acted on impulse or displayed unusual forms of behaviour - Arranged kitchen knives around his aunt’s body while she slept - Experienced unusual ‘episodes’ during which family members described him as ‘transforming into an unrecognisable person’ - Could not decide what to study, and hardly ever finished a course - Bounced from one menial job to the next, failed to show up for shifts, and never gave notice before quitting - Abnormally intense use of eye contact - an extended stare-like action - More concerned with instant gratification than delayed gratification, for example, was more bothered about what reporters thought of him during his trial than saving himself from the death penalty
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Exhibited abrupt oscillations in mood – especially when he did not get his way or felt insecure/threatened - Threatened to kill his fiancée when she asked about suspicious items he had in his possession Possessed an insatiable need for sexual arousal and gratification - Masturbated in public spaces such as school - Found radio conversations to be pleasurable and sexually arousing - Rummaged through trash bins in search of pictures of naked women - Took part in voyeuristic activities by peeping into windows to watch women undress - Enjoyed literature that focused on violent sexual activities and death - Watched pornography that emphasised the forceful and violent sexual domination of a female by a male - Fascinated by sexual practices that involved anal intercourse, bondage, and asphyxiation - Took pleasure in looking at women’s naked bodies with a flashlight while they slept - Sexually assaulted his victims with inanimate objects such as wooden bed posts and aerosol cans - Perceived sex to be of greater value than life itself - Performed necrophilia on victims’ remains - Indulged in oral sex with victims’ decapitated heads Early presentation of criminal activity – Became involved with criminal activities before the age of 15 especially during adolescence – that Resorted to petty theft and shoplifting to obtain ‘pocket money’ usually escalates into violence towards Counterfeited tickets to gain free access to ski slopes others Arrested for larceny and grand theft auto on more than two occasions during adolescence Prime suspect in the ‘disappearance’ of Ann Marie Burr Instrumental drug and/or alcohol abuse Drank alcohol and smoked cannabis to calm himself down before committing an illegal act Vivid fantasy/imaginary world – typically Possessed a sexually violent and explicit fantasy world that included: includes violence, dominance, and/or - The forceful and violent domination of a vulnerable, dark-haired young aggression woman 249
- Brutal sex that involved the bondage of his victims to have total control over them - Murder via choking, forceful penetration of the genitalia, and bludgeoning - The recreation of pornographic images by coercing his victims to dress in certain outfits and pose accordingly - The sex-fantasy of cooking and eating his victims’ flesh (that is, cannibalism) Manipulative demeanor and/or propensity Acted as if he was richer and more superior than the rest of his school class to for deception/deceit cover up his insecurities Pretended to be a serious scholar to compensate for his lack of social skills Mimicked the social practices of his friends and colleagues Fabricated a public persona to convince others that he was charming and intelligent Continuously exaggerated his accomplishments, and lied to make himself seem more successful than he actually was Used people to get what he wanted Repeatedly altered his physical appearance to evade capture Constantly lied to Kendall during their relationship Cheated on Kendall numerous times with other women Took acting classes to learn how to apply costume makeup, and to acquire skills in the art of using disguises Used his superficial charm and flattery to lure women into his car before abducting them Impersonated a police office to kidnap Da Ronch Assumed various false identities, or aliases, for example, ‘Chris Hagen’, ‘Officer Roseland’, and ‘Kenneth Misner’ Recurrently used the ruse of a fake cast, crutches, and/or arm sling to gain sympathy from unsuspecting victims Saw lying as a prerequisite for abducting women Escaped from prison twice by using manipulation and deception History of cruelty towards animals No history of cruelty or abuse towards animals 250
However, he did witness his grandfather kick dogs and sadistically spin cats around by their tails on numerous occasions Ability to come across as normal and Presented with above-average academic skills in school sociable in front of others Was an active member in Boy Scouts and the Methodist Youth Fellowship His peers characterised him as athletic, attractive, well mannered, and academic Graduated from high school and attended various universities Embodied an aura of assertiveness and self-confidence Had various, steady, long-standing relationships Graduated with a degree in Psychology Filled important positions in various politically orientated professions Was respected and well-liked by co-workers Seattle Police Department considered him a local hero for apprehending a thief and saving a boy from downing Perceived as a tender and loving man who took the role of a father figure seriously Volunteered as a counsellor for a suicide hotline – saved several lives Made co-workers feel protected and safe, and showed them support and kindness during difficult times in their lives Facilitated the police in launching a pilot study on rape prevention Received several excellent recommendation letters from lecturers General lack of conscience/remorse/guilt Said that he could not even remember half of the women he murdered, as he and emotional attachment was having too much fun Found law enforcement’s concern over the missing women to be exaggerated Laughed at his victims whilst they were begging for their lives Considered guilt to be an unhealthy social mechanism used to control people Was only concerned about acquiring sympathy and remorse for himself His behaviour was orientated towards showmanship rather than discretion – he only focused on being noticed and admired Showed no remorse for his action during any of his trials Inability to take responsibility for their Teachers struggled to discipline Bundy because he always blamed an authority actions figure or the system if he got into trouble 251
Blamed alcohol and drugs for eroding the restraints he had in place that prevented him from committing sexual assault and murder Blamed his addiction to hardcore pornography for awakening his latent sexual desire for rape and murder Blamed ‘the entity’ within him for compelling him to commit violent acts against women Blamed his own victims for their deaths because they were stupid enough to walk alone, hitch hike, or climb into a stranger’s car Pleaded not-guilty to all charges against him despite the presentation of overwhelming evidence Compartmentalised, rationalised, and debated every facet of his life Victims and the Crime Scene Objectify, humiliate, and/or degrade Depersonalised and detached himself from the human aspects of his victims by victims avoiding any personal connection with them Labeled his victims as ‘symbols’, ‘images’, and ‘objects’ Unbothered by the disappearance of a ‘few’ women, as the world was overpopulated anyway Described the discarding of his victims’ bodies as a ‘garbage disposal method’ Saw his victims as possessions that were his to keep forever Called women ‘bitches’, ‘bimbos’, ‘pieces of ass’, and ‘damaged goods’ Takes souvenirs/trophies from victims Retained pieces of clothing from his victims, for example, underwear Transported some of his victims’ decapitated heads back to his apartment for further sexual gratification Photographed his victims’ bodies as keepsakes to relive their murders Rarely harm/murder their partners Sometimes made verbal threats and/or humiliated his partners, but almost never physically harmed any of them On one occasion, he tried to choke his girlfriend during sexual intercourse Experience sexual and psychological The more petrified his victims became, the more it aroused him sexually enjoyment from inflicting torture/pain on Took pleasure in repeatedly pretending to be his victims’ ‘rescuer’ once they others gained consciousness, and then strangling them again 252
Leave behind a signature at crime scene Varied and/or progressed depending on victim and the presentation of situations or opportunities – highly experimental and diverse with no fixed ritual. Examples of Bundy’s ‘signatures’ include: - Dismemberment of the bodies - Decapitation of his victims’ heads - Necrophilia - Cannibalism - Forcing his victims to dress in certain outfits and to pose in provocative ways - Taking photographs of his victims - Applying makeup to their faces post mortem - Biting some of his victims on their breasts and buttocks Possess a unique modus operandi Possessed two separate modus operandi’s depending on the opportunity that arose - (1) Pretended to be injured by wearing a fake cast/ arm sling, or walking with crutches to gain sympathy from his victims and to lure them to his car - Would then assault them with a crowbar and handcuff them before transporting them to a secluded area to rape and murder them - (2) Gained illegal entry into his victims’ residences at night, and bludgeoned them to death as they slept - On one occasion he also impersonated a police officer to lure a victim to his car Tendency to return to crime scenes or Returned to the locations of body disposal to commit necrophilia, and to groom secondary locations of body disposal some of the corpses Intensify degree of violence imposed on Cooling-off period between murders decreased over time victims over time Murders progressed from being organised and controlled to disorganised, desperate, and frenzied Degree of violence imposed on victims intensified over time. Initial rape and bludgeoning evolved to include biting, slashing of genitalia with sharp objects, forcefully penetrating genitalia with inanimate objects, and decapitation Note: Adapted from Buss, D.M. (2005). The murderer next door: Why the mind is designed to kill. New York, NY: Penguin Books; Dawson, P. (2015). Faces of Ted Bundy: My prison interviews with Bundy. New York, NY: Vistar Pictures; Dobbert, D.L. (2009). Psychopathy, perversion, and lust homicide: Recognizing the mental disorders that power serial killers. Santa Barbara, CA: Praeger; 253
Douglas, J., & Olshaker, M. (1997). Journey into darkness. New York, NY: Pocket Books; Egger, S.A. (2003). The need to kill: Inside the world of a serial killer. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall; Geberth, V.J. (1996). Practical homicide investigation: Tactics, procedures and forensic techniques (3rd ed.). New York, NY: CRC Press; Hickey, E. (1997). Serial murderers and their victims (2nd ed.). Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole; Holmes, R.M., & Holmes, S.T. (1998). Contemporary perspectives on serial murder. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications; Kendall, E. (1981). The phantom prince: My life with Ted Bundy. Seattle, WA: Madrona Publishers; Keppel, R.D., & Birnes, W.J. (2003). The psychology of serial killer investigations: The grisly business unit. London, England: Pocket Books; McClellan, J. (2006). Case study: Ted Bundy, an offender-based comparison of murder typologies. Journal of Security Education, 2(1), 19-37. doi: 10.1300/J460v02n01_03; Michaud, S.G., & Aynesworth, H. (2000). Ted Bundy: Conversations with a killer – The death row interviews. Irving, TX: Authorlink Press; Miller, L. (2000). The predator’s brain: Neuropsychodynamics of serial killing. In L.B. Schlesinger (Ed.), Serial offenders: Current thoughts, recent findings (pp. 135-166). New York, NY: CRC Press; Nelson, P. (1994). Defending the devil: My story as Ted Bundy’s last lawyer. New York, NY: William Morrow; Newton, M. (2006). The encyclopedia of serial killers (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Checkmark Books; Ressler, R.K., & Shachtman, T. (1993). Whoever fights monsters: My twenty years tracking serial killers for the FBI. London, England: St. Martin’s Paperbacks; Rippo, B.M. (2007). The professional serial killer and the career of Ted Bundy: An investigation into the macabre id- identity of the serial killer. New Yok, NY: iUniverse; Rule, A. (2009). The stranger beside me. New York, NY: Pocket Books; Schechter, H. (2003). The serial killer files. New York, NY: Random House Publishing; Sullivan, K.M. (2009). The Bundy murders: A comprehensive history. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company; Vronsky, P. (2004). Serial killers: The methods and madness of monsters. New York, NY: Berkley Publishing Group.
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Table Eight demonstrates that Bundy was, in all respects, a serial murderer driven by lust, and an obsessive compulsion for sexual gratification by way of paraphilic activities and sadistic actions. It moreover substantiates the role of external environmental and social factors, and hereditary influences involved in the construction of a dysfunctional or impaired personality structure. Most importantly, however, is its validation of the significance of relationships and repeated interactions with others in the development of either a stable or disordered personality organisation. It unequivocally proves that one’s initial and primary exchanges with others hold considerable value in terms of understanding why an individual reasons and behaves in the way they do. For the remainder of the chapter, the researcher will use the above-mentioned interpretations as a basis for the application of Bundy’s life and behaviour to Kernberg’s Object
Relations Theory.
Conceptual Outline for the Presentation and Discussion of Findings: Bridging the Gap
The purpose of psychobiographical research centers on providing a comprehensive and holistic description, explanation, and interpretation of an individual’s life according to a diverse collection of biographical data sources (Mayer, 2017; McAdams, 2006; Schultz, 2005c). These extracted references are analysed and presented within the context of a specific psychological theory (or multiple theories) “…to transform a life into a coherent and illuminating story” (Fouché & Van
Niekerk, 2010; McAdams, 2006, p. 503). Accordingly, these life narratives should be regarded from both a constructivist and interpretive lens in order to obtain an accurate and in-depth understanding of the selected individual’s unique patterns and processes (Mackenzie & Knipe,
2006; Mayer, 2017; McAdams, 2005). Thus, the psychobiographical approach enables the researcher to provide a novel or alternative viewpoint of the person under study, as a more
“inclusive investigation” is performed (Kramp, 2012; Mayer, 2017, p. 17). 255
The current study primarily used Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory to contextualise and elucidate the life of Bundy. This chapter therefore provides a holistic and integrated description and analysis of Bundy in terms of Kernberg’s theoretical propositions, by identifying object relational patterns (or themes) that were prominent and perpetual across his lifespan
(Roberts, 2002). In keeping with the latter, the researcher also paid special attention to the applicability of Kernberg’s interpretation of character pathology, and the role of defense mechanisms to understand Bundy’s personality structure and subsequent choice of conduct.
Particular consideration was given to Kernberg’s borderline configuration, as Bundy manifested a host of behavioural and psychological ‘qualities’ that coincide with Antisocial, Borderline, and
Narcissistic Personality Disorder. These disorders fall within his organisational framework of personality pathology. The goal, however, is not to diagnose Bundy with personality disorders per se, but to determine the level of severity associated with his personality dysfunction based on how well or poorly his psyche had developed and integrated over time. This can only be ascertained through establishing the regularity with which Bundy used immature defense mechanisms based on splitting, and under which circumstances these defenses were activated (Cain, Pincus, & Ansell,
2007).
Due to the specific purpose and scope of the current study, the researcher will only account for those aspects of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relation’s Theory that are pertinent and relevant in understanding and interpreting Bundy’s life and consequent personality development. Her primary focus will thus be on identifying and tracing the defensive operations embedded in his object relations patterns to uncover and verify the motives behind his assemblage of thoughts and choice of behaviours. In order to formulate and present an in-depth and holistic analysis of Bundy’s life, the researcher included many of Bundy’s own words and subjective descriptions of his experiences 256 in the chapter. Referenced examples and stories from those who had regular contact with him (or interviewed him extensively during his stay of execution) are also included to facilitate the creation of a comprehensive understanding of his life and overall personality composition (Yilmazl, Unal,
Gencer, Aydemir & Selcuk, 2015). The following section uses Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations
Theory to explore the inner workings and modalities of Bundy’s life.
Cultivating Basic Object Relations: Bundy’s Infancy and Early Childhood
“Since the earliest period of our life was preverbal, everything depended on emotional
interaction. Without someone to reflect our emotions, we had no way of knowing who we
are. Mirroring remains important during our entire lives. Our identity demands a significant
other whose eyes see us pretty much as we see ourselves” (Bradshaw, 2005, p. 31).
In order to understand the reasoning behind Bundy’s behaviour in its entirety, one has to scrutinise the intrapsychic mechanisms and structures (or apparatus) that constitute his personality. This entails a detailed exploration and assessment of the interplay between various external and internal forces that contributed towards the formation of Bundy’s object relations in his infancy and early childhood. As mentioned in Chapter Four, object relations are essential to the development of an individual’s personality. Thus, they serve as building blocks that ultimately determine how a person will react to various situations and experiences that occur throughout their life (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Kernberg and Caligor (2005) highlighted that the most basic and fundamental object relations stem from the reciprocal interaction between the infant and their primary caregiver. These interactions are always associated with a particular affect or emotional charge that may be positive or negative in nature (Christopher et al., 2001;
Kernberg & Caligor, 2005; Kosciejew, 2013). However, every individual’s response towards particular experiences varies in intensity depending on their hereditary makeup. Thus, the 257 researcher first needs to evaluate the individual’s affective responses in terms of their genetic susceptibility towards emotional variability and sensitivity (that is, level of reactivity), as it serves as a critical precursor for human behaviour – be it functional or dysfunctional (Bergland,
2015; Bevilacqua & Goldman, 2011). While genetics is not the primary focus of this study, it is necessary to acknowledge its indispensable role in character formation, especially in instances where personality disturbances are present. Bartol and Bartol (2014) corroborated the latter by specifying that, “there is emerging evidence that genetics play a [pronounced] role in the development of psychopathy” (p. 219). Blair, Peschardt, Budhani, Mitchell, and Pine (2006) moreover expressed that hereditary influences and vulnerabilities may contribute significantly to the emotional dysregulation found in individuals who present with psychopathic and narcissistic tendencies (which happen to fall under Kernberg’s borderline configuration).
It is unrealistic to try to determine Bundy’s exact genetic composition, but one can make certain inferences about his personality by considering his temperament (whether it be predetermined or acquired), and genetically inherited characteristics that were transferred to him by previous generations of family members. Information surrounding Bundy’s temperament in early childhood is too scarce and inconsistent to attribute a specific ‘behavioural disposition’ to him with conclusive surety (Ekstrand, 2012). However, the researcher was able to generate various suppositions thereof through considering the enduring characteristics of those closest to him
(Moran & Pederson, 1998). Bundy’s grandfather, for example, had a violent temperament. Thus, it is reasonable to deduce a genetic link when one considers Bundy’s short temper and aggressive behaviour towards others in later life. Authors such as Lewis et al. (1985), and Reiss and Roth
(1993) agreed to the aforementioned by proposing that the foundation for criminal or perverted behaviour centers on the notion of a genetic predisposition to aggression and hostility. 258
Furthermore, his grandmother suffered from a host of mental health problems, which included depressive psychosis, panic disorder, and agoraphobia (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). Although
Bundy did not display these exact forms of mental illness, his grandmother’s proneness to psychological issues may have predisposed his personality to the activation of certain traits, for instance, neuroticism (Mattejat & Remschmidt, 2008). From the literature, the researcher also inferred that Bundy’s mother had quite an anxious temperament, and a delicate psyche (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2012). She also seemed particularly rigid in her ways, and also appeared to be prim-and-proper, aloof, and reserved (Hammon, 2017). It is probable that certain hereditary components concerning Louise’s apprehensive and unyielding nature were transferred to Bundy, as he continuously demonstrated an inability to adapt to changing circumstances effectively.
Incidences that interrupted or altered his sense of complacency or usual routine seemed to overwhelm him. As Bundy’s biological father remains unidentified, one cannot speculate how, and to what extent, his particular genotype affected his son’s personality formation (Rule, 2009;
Rippo, 2007).
The aforementioned indicates a genetic predisposition that encompasses a greater degree of negative valence. Thus, Bundy would have been more inclined to develop self and object representations that were coloured with ambivalence, anxiety, frustration, and even anger. Under these circumstances, one could assume that Bundy’s aggressive impulses overwhelmed his libidinal impulses from the outset. Thus, these ‘bad’ or negative representations, in conjunction with his early life experiences, formed his object relational patterns, and served as the foundation for his future interactions with others.
Concerning Bundy’s early life, there are various, yet unique, environmental and social factors that would have played a significant role in forming these interaction patterns. One of the 259 most frequently deliberated topics surrounding Bundy’s infancy, is his mother’s temporary withdrawal from, or ‘postponement’ of her responsibilities towards him during the first three months of his life (Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009; Vronsky, 2004). As the norms of the 1940s deemed out-of-wedlock pregnancies as disreputable and immoral, Louis grappled with the choice of whether to surrender Bundy and give him up for adoption or to incorporate him into the family home (Dobbert, 2009). It is imperative to recognise the significance of this three-month period, as it indicates a ‘disconnectedness’ between Bundy and his mother during one of the most critical stages of their relationship. According to Kernberg and Caligor (2005), the primary attachments and connections that are formed during the child’s earliest developmental phase functions as a blueprint for establishing and maintaining future relationships and behavioural patterns. The type of relationship created between the infant and their primary caregiver is thus vital in terms of personality formation, psychological progression, and emotional development of the child (Boeree, 2018). Knight (2006) extended the above by emphasising that “the development of the self is…dependent on preoedipal childhood experiences of caretakers” (p.
1193). She additionally warned that when the latter is either deficient or absent, disturbances in terms of the child’s self-regard and their perceptions of others may transpire (Knight, 2006). The researcher can only speculate what the circumstances were for the duration of Bundy’s stay at the Elizabeth Lund Home, but she feels that it was unlikely that he formed a marked bond with any particular caretaker. Her rationale behind this assumption centers on the likelihood that the
Home had to take care of, and supervise a substantial amount of unwanted or abandoned children. Thus, the staff could not prioritise or focus solely on one child’s needs at a time – especially not in terms of psychological or emotional development. Even if this was not the case, aspects such as staff rotation and staff availability at the Home could have affected the level of 260 care that Bundy received at any moment in time, and consequently hampered his opportunity to form close, intimate relations with a specific individual.
Figure 19: The Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers – The birthplace of Bundy (1950).
It is also likely that his three-month stay at the Home marked his first impression of the ‘outside world’ as confusing, unreliable, and unsafe. This moreover implies a collective theme grounded in inconsistency, deprivation, and rejection in his earliest exposure to life that would continue to manifest throughout his middle childhood, adolescence, and adulthood.
After his three-month stay at the Elizabeth Lund Home, Louise decided to keep Bundy.
Together, they moved back to her parents’ home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where Bundy’s grandparents (Eleanor and Samuel) took on the role of parents and primary caretakers (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2012). Consequently, his actual mother adopted the role of ‘older sister’ to avoid bringing disrepute and embarrassment to the family name (Dawson, 2015; Dobbert, 2009). 261
Bundy’s two aunts also resided within the Cowell residence (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
From the above, one may surmise that Bundy’s basic physical needs (such as feeding, bathing, changing diapers, and burping) were met given that he was surrounded by so many adults who could lend a helping hand. The researcher is, however, unsure as to what degree his psychological, social, and emotional needs were met, as he was constantly exposed to his grandfather’s uncontrollable fits of rage and unwarranted abusive behaviour towards his family and innocent animals. He moreover endured his grandmother’s recurrent bouts of depression, psychotic episodes, and panic attacks (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). Mattejat and Remschmidt
(2008) argued that children who frequently interact with mentally ill or dysfunctional individuals
“are often subject to especially severe stresses and limitations…[and are] at a greater than normal risk of developing mental illness themselves” (p. 413). They additionally highlighted the extremely detrimental impact that maladjusted caregivers have on their children during infancy and early childhood. According to their research, Mattejat and Remschmidt (2008) maintained that caregivers who suffer from mental disorders, such as major or persistent depressive disorder:
struggle to feel and express empathy towards their child;
are, to a certain extent, emotionally unavailable to the psychological needs of their child;
are limited in their ability to recognise, understand, and respond to their child’s gestures in an
appropriate manner (for example, ‘showing and giving’ behaviours) (Levien, 2016, para. 7),
and;
present with a marked reduction in executing social cues when in interaction with their child
(for example, making regular eye contact, imitating behaviours, enforcing child-directed
speech, smiling, and playing interactive games such as ‘peek-a-boo’). 262
The preceding points confirm Kernberg’s premise that the interaction that takes place between the infant and the (dysfunctional) caregiver may significantly disturb the child’s personality development, restrict their emotional growth, and distort their perception of themselves, their relationships with others, and their external environment for the duration of their life (and vice versa) (Christopher et al., 2001; Kernberg, 1984; Mattejat & Remschmidt,
2008). Bowlby (1973) furthermore explained:
Early mother-child interactions provide a window into personality dynamics. As within the
child-caregiver bond, the child learns (or fails to learn) how to regulate emotional
experience and behaviour. In a sense, the child develops a working model of how to relate
[to others] (p. 203).
Samuel’s volatile constitution and Eleanor’s preoccupation with managing her own psychological difficulties, suggest that Bundy’s quality of care was notably compromised even though he might have received adequate attention in terms of meeting his physical needs.
Authors such as Erikson (1968), Riggs (2010), and Wright (2007) agreed that an infant’s capacity to form attachments or bonds with others is predominantly dependent on the caliber of care that they receive, rather than on the quantity that they acquire and accumulate over time.
Bundy may have been tolerable of the latter form of ‘physical’ caregiver-behaviour during the first month of his life, as most of his experiences constituted a low affective charge, which merely stimulated his awareness of his position in time and space (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Thus, the infant is only accustomed to automatic, instinctual responses that fulfil their “bodily functions” during this stage (that is, normal autism), and lacks the capacity to form self- representations or object-images (Kernberg, 1984; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 122). However, from around two months onwards, the sole provision of basic physical ‘maintenance’ becomes 263 insufficient in terms of meeting the infant’s needs in its totality, as their psyche becomes increasingly sophisticated. Thus, as the infant develops, they are able to organise and experience their interactions with others as being pleasurable and gratifying, or as unpleasurable and dissatisfying (Kernberg, 1984). Over time, these emotionally loaded representations – that may be either ‘good’ or ‘bad’ – become “differentiated” (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 122). This leads to the progressive emergence of “definitions of the self and others in interaction” that later extend to additional, more complex relations such as with friends at school (Christopher et al.,
2001; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005, p. 122; Kosciejew, 2013). Christopher et al. (2001) added to the above by emphasising that the formation and internalisation of different affective units are crucial for personality development because they “contain precursors of the intrapsychic structure, [and] effective representations of the ‘external’ world, the self, and the instincts”
(p.691). Thus, the process of differentiation between the self and others, and the internalisation of object relations hinge on unconscious ‘memories’ of repeated events that contain three major elements (see Diagram 4.1): (1) the individual’s image of the object, (2) the image of the self in interaction with the object, and (3) the accompanying affective tone of the object-image, as well as the self-image under the influence of the drive representative present at the time of the interaction (that is, libidinal or aggressive drive) (Kernberg, 1984, as cited in Christopher et al.,
2001). The formation of these patterns are dependent on high affective states, as the initial interactions between the infant and the caregiver is pivotal in emotional development. It also plays an essential role in the formation of the child’s most basic psychological motivation systems that later provide them with attributes such as impulse control and emotional self- regulation – which, in Bundy’s case, was limited (Freud, 1963; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005;
Westphal & Bonanno, 2004). 264
In keeping with the above, the source of Bundy’s specific set of cognitions and behaviours become more accessible, transparent, and defined. As previously indicated, Bundy observed and endured numerous violent domestic disputes initiated by his vindictive grandfather, and was constantly in close proximity to his mentally disordered grandmother. This suggests that his developing psyche continually absorbed and internalised an overwhelming amount of negative valence that overstimulated his ‘bad core’. This would ultimately lead to the possession of exceedingly negative self and object representations, and the continuous manifestation of anxiety, frustration, and anger (Fonagy et al., 2005). When one considers the above, it is likely that Bundy struggled with the process of digesting his own activated emotional states when in interaction with others. Fonagy and Target (1977) highlighted that it is the task of the primary caregiver to help the infant make sense of or ‘metabolise’ their emotional experiences so that those active emotive states can eventually be sorted and integrated into affective memories.
These affective memories will ultimately dictate how an individual behaves towards others when certain emotions are triggered during interaction. A good analogy for the latter is a mother bird who regurgitates her food in order to help her chicks consume the feed more easily. In the end, this process will facilitate their autonomous consumption and digestion of whole foods. It is thus the researcher’s contention that Bundy’s grandparents failed to identify with, or mimic his affective responses as an infant. It should be noted that the latter statement is especially relevant to his grandmother, as post-war American life and the emerging customs of the late 1940s and
1950s typified a socially conservative lifestyle where women were expected to remain at home to perform domestic tasks such as cooking, cleaning, and child rearing (Cayton et al., 1993). Thus, her exchanges with Bundy were probably more frequent than that which occurred between
Samuel and Bundy. As someone who suffered from severe depression and a host of other 265 troubling psychological diagnoses, it can be assumed that Eleanor’s ability to recognise, understand, and respond to Bundy’s infantile gestures appropriately, was diminished. This is understandable if one considers the flat affect and manifestation of anhedonia6 or inertia7 that accompanies depression, as it hampers an individual’s natural ability to feel and/or express variability in terms of emotion (Kuppens, Allen, & Sheeber, 2010; Rottenberg, 2005; Treadway,
Bossaller, Shelton, & Zald, 2012). From this, it can furthermore be surmised that Eleanor would have battled to internally experience and externally demonstrate empathy towards Bundy. She may have been so fixated on dealing with her own trepidations that she neglected to relate to him on an intimate level or to fulfil his psychological needs. As previously mentioned, this type of interaction is usually observed through actions such as regular eye contact, imitating behaviors, child-directed speech, returning smiles and facial expressions, and playing interactive games
(Mattejat & Remschmidt, 2008).
Overall, it is safe to infer that Bundy’s and his grandmother’s emotional states did not correspond sufficiently over time. For example, when he smiled and playfully gurgled, she might have kept to her routine task of changing his diaper instead of responding by smiling back or tickling him affectionately (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). In terms of healthy personality development, this is troubling. Fonagy and Target (1996) cautioned that in instances where the primary caregiver struggles or refuses to empathise with, or mirror the infant’s emotional state accurately, personality pathology might emerge, as the infant is overwhelmed with bad representations that hold negative affective charges. As a result, Bundy may have been – to a
6 “A deficit in the experience of pleasure” during which there is a marked reduction in anticipation and motivation (Treadway et al., 2012, p. 553). 7 A state of emotional maladjustment during which there is a significant resistance to change, or a sense of “stuckness” characterised by “emotional underreactivity and ineffective emotion regulation skills” (Kuppens et al., 2010, p. 984).
266 certain extent – unsuccessful in developing the ability to reflect on and affirm his own actions and affective experiences, as well as the reactions and affective responses of others (Fonagy &
Target, 1996; Fonagy et al., 2005; Kernberg, 1998). This means, that his capacity to register and evaluate his self in relation to others was deficient, since he repeatedly encountered and internalised incongruous or ambivalent reactions from those closest to him (Kernberg & Caligor,
2005). Kernberg and Caligor (2005) moreover emphasised that the predominance of negative object relations is an indication of unhealthy or dysfunctional psychological development. This is because the infant’s good core is too overwhelmed by excessive amounts of negative representations for them to tolerate or overcome them effectively. In a desperate attempt to protect the limited amount of good object relations that they have accumulated, and to discard their extreme sense of emotional discomfort due to the build-up of high levels of anxiety, frustration, and anger, the child unconsciously splits off the threatening or intimidating representations. These negative representations are then projected onto external objects and the outside world (via hostility or aggression), rather than imposed on the self (Heiserman & Cook,
1998; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Thus, the threat is perceived as coming from the outside, which restores there ‘good’ sense of self. During early childhood, the use of splitting as a defense mechanism is a normal part of psychic development, as the child’s ego is still too weak to integrate opposing representations and their accompanying affective charges. However, in cases such as Bundy’s, where the child possesses more negative object relations than positive ones, they will continue to use splitting as a defense mechanism indefinitely into adulthood (Kernberg,
1984, 1998; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
The researcher observed the above-mentioned hostility and aggression in many of Bundy’s actions during his early childhood years. He instinctively seemed to gravitate towards the 267 macabre from an exceptionally early age. When Bundy was only three years old, his aunt Julia awoke to find him slipping kitchen knives under her duvet cover and arranging them around her body in the early hours of the morning. She described the incident as extremely unsettling as
Bundy seemed to find his potentially dangerous act to be quite trivial and amusing. She explained that, “he just stood there and grinned [at me]” (Newton, 2006, p. 30). In fact, years later during his Death Row interviews with Dr. Paul Dawson (2015), Bundy still found this particular event to be quite comical. He rationalised his bizarre behaviour through the following statement: “I guess I had a sick sense of humour. But, what the hell, I was three years old when that happened! What kid didn’t get into trouble now and then?” What was even more alarming was Samuel and Eleanor’s reaction upon hearing of Bundy’s midnight escapade. Julia claimed that, “nobody did anything” when she told his grandparents what had happened (Vronsky, 2004, p. 107). Apparently, she was the only person in the household who figured Bundy’s behaviour to be out of place (Vronsky, 2004). The researcher is of the opinion that Bundy’s conduct stands in direct opposition to that which is generally expected of a young child, and that it points towards a degree of abnormality that is unusual for someone of his age. This event moreover proves her earlier assertion of emotional ‘incongruence’, as he smiled at the sight of surrounding someone with dangerous, sharp utensils. Thus, his reaction was not only atypical in terms of the event that took place, but also concerning his aunt’s expression of fear and confusion. Although the literature does not supply the reader with an explanation as to why he chose to act in this way towards Julia, it can be speculated that this might have been a demonstration of ‘normalised’ behaviour, given his regular exposure to violence and abuse within the household. Schaefer and
DiGeronimo (2000) augmented this supposition by maintaining that “children adopt values and develop a moral sense of right and wrong by imitating what they see in the world around them” 268
(p. 47). This statement serves as a direct link to Kernberg’s second phase of internalisation, namely ‘identification’ (Kernberg, 1984). During this phase, the child has amassed the appropriate degree of perceptual awareness and cognitive functioning to recognise that different objects partake in different roles during interpersonal interactions. Given that identifications suggest the internalisation of social roles (due to its repeated occurrence), it is reasonable to expect the infant to manifest or reenact these roles in their day-to-day behaviour. The child thus incorporates these “passively experienced roles” as part of their own self-image, and subsequently applies them to their image or representation of others (Kernberg, 1984, p. 31).
Thus, Bundy may have internalised the social role of his grandfather (that, is controlling others through violence) as ‘normal’, and thought it ‘acceptable’ behaviour for a man to inflict physical pain on a women when they do not act in a desired manner (Kernberg, 1984).
Another reasonable interpretation centers on Julia’s reaction to Bundy’s bizarre and hostile form of behaviour towards her. One can surmise that Bundy often succeeded in doing whatever he wanted to without suffering any real consequences. This supposition is based on his grandparent’s nonchalant response upon finding out that he (as a three-year-old), was not only playing with knives during a time that he should have been fast asleep, but that he deliberately brought these potentially fatal objects into very close proximity to another human being’s body without their knowledge or consent. There is also no mention in the literature of anyone in the family who punished or reprimanded Bundy for any of his other wrongdoings or troublesome behaviours. Bundy, for example, received no noticeable chastisement for forcefully striking his mother’s wedding cake with his hand during the reception (Kendall, 1981), or for sneaking into his grandfather’s greenhouse with his cousin Bruce to inspect his large collection of pornographic magazines (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999; Rule, 2009). The foregoing 269 information may lead one to believe that Julia was the only person in the household who did not agree with or tolerate his ‘naughtiness’. Julia’s divergent standpoint regarding his actions may have threatened or intimidated Bundy’s positive experience of the self to the point where he had no choice but to split off that negative representation, and project it onto an external object (that is, Julia) via hostility (that is, the act of surrounding her with knives). Clarkin et al. (2007) cautioned that when an individual employs splitting as a defense mechanism consistently over time, it interferes with and restricts the process of integration and the consolidation of the id, ego, and super ego structures. This may subsequently lead to developmental disturbances such as personality pathology and identity diffusion, as their primitive use of defense mechanisms are never replaced by healthier, more sophisticated defense mechanisms such as repression or sublimation (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Aside from the unfavourable and unstable environment prompted by his grandparents,
Louise appeared to be the only receptive caretaker in the Cowell household when it came to nurturing Bundy. Out of all the household members, she also seemed to have the closest relationship with Bundy during his infancy and early childhood, and fondly referred to him as
‘Teddy’ (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). However, the majority of the literature regarding
Bundy’s relationship with his mother also reflected a sense of ‘vagueness’ that was continually present within their interactions. The latter could partially be due to the fact that they never established the initial connection that usually takes place between a mother and her infant shortly after birth. However, it could also be because she had to pretend to be his sister and had to fulfil the role as convincingly as possible. In his Death Row interviews with Michaud and Aynesworth
(2000), Bundy confirmed the lingering obscurity that frequented their mother-son bond, and communicated her intensely private and distant nature through the following statement: 270
My mother and I didn’t talk a lot about real personal matters… [She] has trouble talking on
an intimate [level]…I don’t resent it, but I don’t know why this is…she’s not a socializing-
type person. She’s not a joiner in the sense that she belongs to women’s clubs and card
games, and talks over the back fence…She’s an extremely intelligent person, but she masks
it. She certainly has a lot of character, but she doesn’t project it (p. 18-19).
While Bundy seemed to have a civilised relationship with his mother, his foregoing assertion leads one to believe that he also experienced her as detached, impassive, and unexpressive. It is likely that her restricted demonstrations of emotion caused him to feel extremely frustrated, conflicted, and confused, as he could never predict whether she was going to reveal her affections to him, or not. It is thus highly probable that Bundy built up conflicting representations of his mother (or in this instance, his ‘sister’) that included elements of adoration and reliance, as well as animosity and distrust. This continuous form of ambivalent interaction may have caused him to generate and internalise object relational patterns that had a negative valence attached to them (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Researchers such as Pederson and Moran
(1996, 1998) and Vaughn and Waters (1990), have emphasised that infants or young children who are repeatedly exposed to ambivalent relationships, demonstrate a higher degree of insecurity in their interactions with others than those who experience consistency and security in their caregiver relations. Cassidy (1994) furthermore remarked that infants who form part of ambivalent mother-child dyads are, comparatively, far less likely to develop appropriate affect regulatory skills. She continued by stating that the latter is commonly the product of “maternal under-responsiveness to infant affect, and infant endogenous characteristics” (Cassidy, 1994, p.
494). This lack of receptivity may elicit negative emotions such as anger, irritability, and frustration in the infant (Cassidy & Berlin, 1994). 271
The preceding section on Bundy’s mother testifies to a relationship that continually vacillated between feelings of wanting to trust and be content, but still experiencing skepticism and resentment towards her. One of the most prominent reasons behind this inconstancy was
Bundy’s insecurity surrounding his parentage, and the continuous sense of embarrassment and rejection he felt because of it. Muuss, Velder, and Porton (2010) explained that “mutual recognition and mutual trustworthiness are the earliest and most undifferentiated experiences of what will later become a sense of identity” (p. 48). Thus, when this basic sense of trust and security is breached, it interferes with the child’s ability to form a solid ego structure from which their self-worth and identity is supposed to develop. Without the proper solidification of ego boundaries, the individual will eventually fail to integrate their good and bad representations of the self and others (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). This results in a detached or distorted sense of self where the person’s identity ultimately becomes diffuse. Consequently, the child’s ability to form whole objects that possess positive and negative attributes simultaneously, and are separate from the self, is markedly decreased (St. Claire, 1996). In a similar fashion, the absence of appropriate recognition between the infant and primary caregiver hampers the infant’s trust in their self, and their ability to develop a rounded or balanced degree of self-assurance (Knight,
2006). Casement (1990) clarified that, “the infant needs to be able to discover his or her capacity to light up the mother’s face – for there is to be found the fundamental basis of self-image and self-esteem…[This] fosters a belief in the appeal of their affects” (p. 93).
According to Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) and Rule (2013), Bundy sensed that he was living a lie from a very early age. This lie was in connection with his real identity, and the fact that Louise and his maternal grandparents concocted a fictitious cover story to conceal his 272 illegitimacy (Dawson, 2015). In a late night conversation with Rule (2013), Bundy conveyed his suspicions surrounding his parentage:
I knew. Don’t ask me how I knew. Maybe I heard conversations. Maybe I figured out that
there couldn’t be twenty years’ difference in age between a brother and a sister, and Louise
always took care of me. I just grew up knowing that she was really my mother (p. 32).
It is the researcher’s assertion that the lies engineered by his family – and particularly by his mother – lead Bundy to experience intensely negative and persistent representations of betrayal, bitterness, humiliation, and rejection. In his mind, his illegitimacy undoubtedly characterised him as a ‘bastard’ and as an ‘unwanted scandal’. It is easy to comprehend why Bundy would feel this way, since the pattern of rejection in his life actually started to manifest before he was even born.
Firstly, and within a broader historical context, the fixed moral tenets and social norms of
American life in the late 1940s and 1950s regarded out-of-wedlock pregnancies as an unspeakable and inexcusable social offense (Cayton et al., 1993; Rippo, 2007; Sullivan, 2009).
One can thus assume that the locals would have branded Bundy as a ‘mistake’ that never should have taken place outside of the confines of a marital union; even if the majority of the locals did not know of his illegitimacy, the situation was shameful enough for his family to lie about it. The following dialogue transpired between Bundy and Dr. Paul Dawson (2015) during a prison interview (p. 87-88). Bundy fervently denied that his illegitimacy had any effect on his psychological state and consequent choice of behaviour.
Dawson: Did it impact you or upset you that your mother was not married?
Bundy: I knew I was a bastard; I wasn’t ashamed of it. In fact, these days unmarried
women have kids all the time. Who cares? 273
Dawson: But, back in the 1940s and 1950s people felt very guilty or ashamed if they had
children and weren’t married. And their kids were often upset.
Bundy: I guess I was ahead of my time. I figured out Louise was my mother when I was a
kid – It was no big trauma. I wasn’t abused as a child.
The above-mentioned seems to be a ploy to mislead clinicians, as Kendall, Bundy’s former fiancé, informed detectives that he cried inconsolably and displayed a deep sense of sorrow when he told her of his illegitimacy. She claimed that, “it bothered him deeply” (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012, p. 230-231). Similarly, his long-time friend, Storwick, revealed that Bundy’s illegitimacy “created a deep-seated bitterness within him that continued to fester and grow”
(Sullivan, 2009). He furthermore expressed that, “nothing [he] said could either comfort or reassure Bundy when it came to his birth” (Sullivan, 2009, p. 49).
Another prenatal rejection stemmed from his biological father who abandoned his parental duties long before his birth. Although he never knew his real father, his untimely desertion seemed to have a considerable emotional and psychological influence on Bundy. Sullivan (2009) captured the underlying animosity that Bundy had towards his father in his 1976 pre-sentence investigation report. It read as follows:
It is of interest that the defendant displayed marked signs of hostility when asked about his
early childhood. Specifically, when he was asked about his ‘real father’s whereabouts’, his
face became quite contorted and reddened and he paused momentarily. He then gained
composure and replied rather succinctly, “You might say that he left my mother and me and
never rejoined the family”. That his face became contorted speaks of significant rage
residing within (p. 50). 274
Apart from receiving an unprompted stamp of disapproval from the local community and being abandoned by his biological father before birth, his mother’s secrecy and dishonesty towards him seemed to affect his developing sense of self the most. This is to be expected, as
Bundy’s perceived deception and exclusion was coming from someone who was closest to him, someone whom he should have been able to trust unconditionally. The researcher is of the opinion that Bundy started to construct representations of rejection, apprehension and mistrust towards Louise once she left him at the Elizabeth Lund Home for Unwed Mothers for approximately three months after his birth (Rippo, 2004; Rule, 2009; Vronsky, 2004). The reader should not overlook or trivialise this three-month period, as it holds great significance in terms of forming healthy object relations. Kernberg (1984) maintained that it is around this stage of the infant’s development (that is, normal symbiosis) that they form an undifferentiated bond with their mother or primary caregiver (Kernberg, 1984). Thus, the infant regards itself as being ‘one’ with its mother, or as being an extension of the self (St. Claire, 1996). Since Bundy did not have the opportunity to experience this sustained and unwavering sense of ‘closeness’ to a specific caregiver, but rather encountered short-term, intermittent interactions, it would be logical to assume that his development in terms of building stable and persistent object relations was disrupted from an exceedingly early age. In keeping with the theme of rejection and mistrust, the researcher speculates that Bundy did not feel like he was being recognised or acknowledged as
‘special or ‘worthy’ in his family, and this impacted the formation of his early patterns.
Subsequently, he felt like his mother was ashamed to admit that he was her son. Knight (2006),
Kohut (1977), and Winnicot (1945, 1963) concurred with this premise by detailing that when a primary caregiver fails to provide the necessary mirroring, and neglects to recognise their infant’s evolving need for idealisation and grandiosity, it discredits the child’s emerging sense of 275 self, as well as their representations of the self in interaction with others and the external world.
This not only creates “a profound sense of rejection and low self-esteem” within the child
(Knight, 2006, p. 1197), but also results in “mirror-hungry” and attention-seeking behaviours that are typical of individuals who fall within Kernberg’s borderline configuration (such as narcissists). Although most of the literature on Bundy suggested that his illegitimacy and mother’s dishonesty towards him fueled his hatred and resentment towards women in general,
Bundy refused to admit to this. This denial can be seen in his statement to Dawson (2015):
This issue has not been some secret, ugly trigger that set me off to abduct, rape, and murder
young women as a basis of some bogus, faux murder theory of rage at my mother like a
cheesy plot stolen from the horror movie Psycho! (p. 265).
Aside from the above, additional social factors may have influenced Bundy’s early identity formation and ability to form intimate connections with others. In an attempt to escape from their adverse circumstances, Bundy (four-years-old at the time), and Louise moved to Tacoma,
Washington to live with her uncle Jack Cowell (Sullivan, 2009). The permanent move away from his ‘parents’ apparently caused him to suffer a great deal of distress, anxiety, and grief, as he did not initially understand why his ‘sister’ would remove him from his ‘parents’. The researcher suspects that this event contributed to the buildup of additional negative representations of resentment towards his mother for taking him away from the Cowell household, and this most likely overwhelmed his good core (again). According to Bowlby (1969) and Levy (2005), attachments that are disrupted during the first few years of a child’s life may lead to ‘affectionless psychopathy’. This means that the individual’s ability to establish and maintain meaningful relationships is either absent or deficient. The latter is also usually accompanied by poor impulse control and a lack of guilt and/or remorse (Bowlby, 1969; Levy, 276
2005). The researcher moreover contends that the sudden move away from a familiar environment may have affected his perception of being in control of his surroundings and the influence he had over others.
Bundy identified strongly with the Cowell name (Rule, 2013). After their move to Tacoma,
Washington, Louise decided to change Bundy’s surname from Cowell to Nelson. Sullivan (2009) explained that, “…she didn’t want her young son subjected to ridicule because he shared the same last name as his great-uncle and his mother…and never wanted him to hear the word bastard” (p. 48). However, the ‘modifications’ pertaining to Bundy’s name did not end there.
Barely a year later, Louise met and married Johnnie Culpepper Bundy, a Navy cook who worked at the Veterans Administration Hospital near Tacoma (Dobbert, 2009). Johnnie adopted Ted as his own child, and consequently changed his surname for the second time to Theodore Robert
Bundy (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). This means that Bundy had possessed three different surnames by the time he was five. One cannot say for certain to what degree Bundy’s constant surname alterations impacted his developing sense of self. However, the researcher believes that it reinforced his perception that he was living a lie, and consolidated his fear of having no control. It would thus not be far-fetched to suggest that it contributed to Bundy experiencing great confusion about his identity.
277
Figure 20: Bundy’s mother, Louise and stepfather, Johnnie (n.d.).
Lastly, it is the researcher’s supposition that Bundy suffered from a reactive attachment disorder (RAD). Although it is not the researcher’s primary goal to diagnose Bundy with an array of mental disorders, she feels that it would be irresponsible to omit this finding, as it would take away from the holistic portrayal of his life and subsequent personality development. While this conclusion does not necessarily form part of Kernberg’s (1966) theory, the researcher considers it a reasonable addition to the analysis of Bundy’s character formation, as attachment disorders are also the result of ineffective or dysfunctional child-parent interactions (Smith,
Robinson, Saisan, & Segal, 2018). Smith et al. (2018) explained that reactive attachment disorder could be described as a condition in which an infant or young child does not have the adequate capacity to establish a healthy attachment to their primary caregiver or other individuals who regularly take care of them. This inability ultimately leads the child to feel insecure, distrusting, 278 and/or disconnected to others, and manifests as uncontrolled emotional displays, anger, and a constant need to have control over their environment. As this disruption of attachment occurs at such a young age, it generally also affects their relationships in later life, since it hampers their ability to connect with others on an intimate level. Interesting, RAD is a commonplace occurrence in children who were emotionally neglected as infants, left in orphanages, or removed from their primary caregivers after establishing a connection (Smith et al., 2018).
Bundy experienced all three of the latter.
Developing Variability and Complexity in Object Relations
Thus far, the researcher could not wholly estimate the level of integration of Bundy’s good and bad internal object representations, as she only discussed his psychological development up until the age of approximately four years. Since the processes of integration and consolidation roughly continue up until the age of seven (Chessick, 2015), it would be irresponsible to formulate conclusions thereof based solely on the first four years of his life. The evaluation of Bundy’s psychic development will moreover be futile if his relationships with external objects outside of his immediate environment (such as with friends) are disregarded.
Over the course of an individual’s development, their object relations become more elaborate and grow in complexity. While the child’s most basic representations of the self and others originate from interactions with their primary caregivers, repeated encounters with non- relatives in novel environments also serve to build up a diverse internal network of self –and object representations (Kernberg, 1998). As these patterns of interaction accumulate and become more organised, the child’s ego boundaries become fixed, and solidify. This, in turn, stimulates the formation of an enduring ego identity, or a more cohesive sense of self, which enables the integration of good and bad representations of the self and others (Christopher et al., 2001; 279
Kernberg, 1984; St. Claire, 1996). The self thus consists of object relation patterns, which may be activated or triggered in interaction, during a variety of situations, and at any point in time.
Once the latter takes place, the child can start forming whole objects. This means that they no longer relate to their primary caregiver or others as part objects or as an extension of the self, but as separate human beings that possess positive and negative attributes simultaneously (St. Claire,
1996). Thus, there is an “integration of persecutory and idealizing structures” (Kernberg &
Caligor, 2005, p. 126). Consequently, there is a reduced tendency of the individual to employ splitting as a defense mechanism when they perceive an interaction as threatening to their positive experience of the self (Kernberg & Caligor, 2005).
Realistic Self AFFECTS Primitive Superego THE Precursors EXTERNAL OBJECT
Ideal Object Ideal Self
POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE OBJECT RELATIONS PATTERNS THE SUBJECTIVE SELF
Diagram 7.1: The researcher’s illustration of the internal self-system in interaction with the external object. The self consists of positive and negative representations that can be triggered during certain types of interactions with others. This process moreover elicits a specific emotional response depending on how the individual views the self and other in terms of their relationship. In healthy individuals, homeostasis exists between their realistic, ideal, and 280 persecutory self. However, in pathological cases, the individual’s realistic self and ideal self are separated from one another, and their persecutory self is denied in totality. The patterns of interaction gradually accumulated within Bundy’s uniquely formed ego identity will shape the remainder of this discussion. Through a thematic analysis of Bundy’s most discernable personality characteristics and behaviours, the researcher will identify the object relations that held the greatest significance in his life. These patterned representations are presented in Table 5, and will be considered alongside his unconscious use of defense mechanisms that are deeply rooted within his mutual exchanges. The researcher provides a brief delineation of these defensive operations below.
TABLE 6: Prominent Representations in Bundy’s Life – A Thematic Framework Object Relations in Middle Childhood and Object Relations in Adulthood Adolescence Isolation, social inadequacy, adjustment Social chameleon syndrome: The art of difficulties deception and manipulation Academia as a crutch Patterns of interaction Inferiority and the role of shame Crime Early exhibition of anger and aggression Entitlement and grandiosity Materialism: Entitlement, grandiosity, and The absence of guilt and the denial of envy responsibility Dependence on fantasy life Possession, control, and objectification Juvenile delinquency Distorted sexuality Note: An illustration of the most prominent object relations patterns in Bundy’s life (1951-1989).
To recapitulate, higher order or mature defense mechanisms are associated with the presence of integration within the psyche. Under these circumstances, threats towards the ego are transferred into the “dynamic unconscious” or the individual’s id structure (Kernberg & Caligor,
2005). Clarkin et al. (2007) postulated that integration causes an individual to experience a more balanced and modulated emotional state in everyday life. It is also a vital precursor for normal personality development, and facilitates the growth of the ego and its accompanying structures.
Splitting is thus not necessary. Examples of mature defense mechanisms include repression, intellectualisation, rationalisation, humour, and sublimation (Meyer et al., 2008). 281
On the contrary, lower order or primitive defense mechanisms are analogous to some degree of identity diffusion. A fragmented or weak ego state is indicative of poor integration in terms of self –and object representations (Clarkin et al., 2007). Under these conditions, the individual’s ability to assimilate positive and negative object relations is debilitated. This means that they find it exceptionally difficult to comprehend that someone can possess good and bad qualities simultaneously; this is also true for the self (Clarkin et al., 2007; Johnson, 1991). Thus, any bad or threatening representation that overwhelms their ability to cope, or challenges their positive view of the self, is split off, and projected outward onto the anxiety-provoking object (Kernberg,
2001). As the outcome of this splitting process is an inability to establish integrations, affective charges cannot be neutralised or modulated. Rather, the individual repeatedly experiences abrupt and radical oscillations between different cognitive-affective states. As a result, they experience intense emotions that continuously fluctuate, and that are overstated in comparison to the situation they find themselves in (Clarkin et al., 2007). Examples of primitive or ‘image- distorting’ defense mechanisms include splitting, projective identification, omnipotence, omnipotent control, primitive idealisation, devaluation, and denial (Caligor et al., 2007; Clarkin et al., 2007). Appendix D provides a summarised description of each lower order defense mechanism to avoid repetition in the ensuing sections.
It is important for the reader to remember that the level of psychopathology that transpires within an individual is dependent on the degree to which they have integrated various elements within their psyche – especially during their formative years, or infancy (Heiserman & Cook,
1998). Thus, in observing an individual’s use of defensive operations, one can determine their level of personality functioning, and delineate their underlying personality structure (Clarkin et al., 2006). Throughout the researcher’s investigation, she found that Bundy typically exhibited 282 behaviours that were consistent with the use of primitive defense mechanisms. His practice of repression-based defense mechanisms was substantially less. These findings are discussed in the following sections.
Object Relations in Middle Childhood and Adolescence
“The growing child must derive a vitalizing sense of reality from the awareness that his
individual way of mastering experience (his ego synthesis) is a successful variant of a group
identity and is in accord with its space-time and life plan (Erikson, 1950, p. 22).
An early pattern of isolation, social inadequacy, and adjustment difficulties. During middle childhood and adolescence, the child’s social environment rapidly and persistently expands to incorporate external objects outside of the family setting. These include individuals such as teachers, acquaintances, friends, and members’ of the community at large. These ever- growing social extensions enable them to explore and develop their competencies in various situations and surroundings, for example, at home, at school, or on the sports field, and ultimately contribute to the degree of self-confidence they possess in terms of their abilities, and relationships with others (Welchman, 2000). Under ideal circumstances, the outcome of the latter is an individual that is well adjusted, and has a stable identity where their id, ego, and superego have become definitively consolidated as fixed intrapsychic structures (Kernberg, 2001). This consolidation holds great significance as it promotes the continual assimilation and growth of the child’s ego identity, and stimulates the maturation of their internalised value system (Carsky and
Ellman, 1985; Holmes, 2015; Kernberg, 1976, 1998). This essentially means that the child will remain committed to their own embedded set of values rather than relying on external sources for validation or approval (Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1976). Carsky and Ellman (1985) detailed the above: 283
The [child’s] internal world gives increasing meaning to present interactions and provides
support for the individual in times of crisis [such as loneliness, failure, loss, or
abandonment]. The individual [now] has the capacity to discriminate subtle aspects of the
self and of others and develops “depersonified” attitudes and values with an increased
capacity to communicate views and experiences in a way that others can understand. These
capacities are absent in pathological conditions (p. 22).
Bundy’s tendency towards isolating behaviours undoubtedly influenced his ability to integrate himself socially – especially in high school. Bundy corroborated the latter in his prison interviews with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000):
In my earlier schooling, it seemed like there was no problem in learning what the
appropriate social behaviours were. It just seemed that I reached a wall, as it were, in high
school. All I knew was that I felt a bit different (p. 24).
However, it is the researcher’s contention that Bundy started to build up patterns of withdrawal and social ineptitude by the time he reached junior school (approximately at the age of seven).
These patterned responses seemed to manifest in situations where he felt that he could not cope with or adjust to environmental changes at the same rate, or in the same manner as those around him. For example, when Bundy’s first-grade teacher, Mrs. Oyster, went on maternity leave, her absence reportedly unnerved him to the point where he became quiet, shy, and uncomfortable in class (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). In fact, his sense of anxiety was so overwhelming that he developed a speech impediment in the form of stuttering, and resorted to compulsive behaviours such as nail biting and nose picking (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). Vahedi, Farrokhi and
Farajian (2012) confirmed the plausibility of the above-mentioned scenario through purporting that there is an undeniable link between social incompetency and maladjustment in both 284 childhood and adulthood. Together, it diminishes the child’s likelihood of developing an appropriate degree of resilience (Vahedi et al., 2012) to combat or overcome encounters that lead to psychological distress. Apart from the evidence provided by Vahedi et al. (2012), the researcher also perceives the aforementioned incident as being indicative of weak ego integration, as Bundy seemed to form unhealthy emotional ties to others (such as with Mrs.
Oyster), and excessively depended on external factors to nurture his self-esteem. Caligor et al.
(2007), Clarkin et al. (2007) and Kernberg (2004b) maintained that when an individual possesses an integrated concept of the self and others, they are capable of exercising mature forms of support-seeking behaviours while still appreciating their autonomy and freedom. This seemed to be missing in Bundy’s interactions.
A second, more compelling reason for Bundy’s perceived ego weakness (or lack of integration, per se), was his use of primitive defense mechanisms to cope after Mrs. Oyster left.
As previously stated, Mrs. Oyster’s untimely departure caused Bundy to experience an overwhelming amount of emotional turmoil, which he struggled to process. After she left, a substitute teacher named Miss Gerri replaced her. Bundy apparently detested Miss Gerri, and characterised her as “a doctrinaire Catholic…with the shape and menacing attitude of a cannon ball about ready to explode” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999, p. 58). Bundy’s unreasonable behaviour towards Miss Gerri suggests the use of devaluation as a defense mechanism. The researcher proposes that Bundy experienced Mrs. Oyster as being an idealised extension of the self, since she continually boasted about his intelligence, and superior vocabulary (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). Thus, she unknowingly validated his positive self-representations by stroking his ego. When Miss Gerri took over the role of teacher, and failed to praise him (seeing as she was strict, and did not hesitate to punish bad behaviour), Bundy perceived himself as 285 unworthy of admiration. Consequently, he split off the negative representation of his self, and projected it onto Miss Gerri (the threatening persecutory object) by ascribing a disproportionate amount of undesirable qualities to her (Blackman, 2004). By doing so, he could protect his fragile ego, and fulfil his unconscious wish to ‘destroy’ her, since she frustrated his need for acknowledgment (Kernberg, 1985). It is also likely that Bundy’s exaggerated reactions were due to feelings of abandonment.
A similar pattern of interaction can be observed in the relationship dynamics that transpired between Bundy and his stepfather, Johnnie. When his mother married Johnnie in 1951, Bundy exhibited noticeable feelings of discontent, frustration, and anger (Dobbert, 2009; Kendall,
1981). In many respects, it seemed as if Bundy saw his stepfather as an interloper, or as someone who wanted to steal his mother away from him; his mere presence made Bundy uneasy and insecure (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Despite his stepfather’s best attempts to integrate him into the recently established family, Bundy adamantly rejected such efforts from every direction, and by all means necessary. He would rather isolate himself and stay in his bedroom listening to his radio, than socialise with Johnnie (Dobbert, 2009). This behaviour once again reinforces the representation of maladjustment, as he struggled to accept the shift in social hierarchy that naturally took place within the household. The role of disciplinarian now fell on Johnnie, and
Bundy made no secret of his intense dislike of him, or his corporal method of punishment
(Sullivan, 2009). In instances where Bundy and his stepfather did interact, he used it as an opportunity to provoke Johnnie by turning Louise against him. In fact, he regularly ridiculed
Johnnie by mocking his Southern accent, and called him ‘intellectually slow’ and ‘feeble- minded’ to his face (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). 286
The above-mentioned state of affairs provides additional support for the researcher’s proposal that Bundy’s personality development was hampered. It is likely that Johnnie triggered
Bundy’s patterns associated with being socially inept, and consequently reinforced his isolating behaviours. Bundy thus unconsciously employed devaluation as a defense mechanism to protect his good core from being harmed by the persecutory object (that is, Johnnie). This explains
Bundy’s outright animosity towards his stepfather. Interestingly, Bundy exchanged his use of devaluation for denial, another primitive defense mechanism, when describing his family life during a television interview with Dobson in 1989 – a day before his execution. He recalled his family life as follows:
I grew up in a wonderful home with two dedicated and loving parents, as one of five
brothers and sisters. We, as children were the focus of my parent’s lives. We regularly
attended church. My parents did not drink, smoke, or gamble. There was no physical abuse
or fighting in the home. I’m not saying it was ‘Leave it to Beaver’, but it was a fine, solid
Christian home. I hope no one will try to take the easy way out of this and accuse my family
of contributing [to my actions] (Olney, 2016, p. 274).
Caligor et al. (2007) clarified the use of denial by explaining that an individual who exhibits personality dysfunction will disregard any facet of their internal or external world that they perceive as being incongruent with their distorted image, or as being potentially jeopardising to their fragile ego state and good self-representations. Thus, they split off conflicting aspects of the self, and deny its significance in totality. The latter also demonstrates the degree of distorted thinking that takes place within a fragmented psyche. The thought of contaminating his good self, thus elicited such an overwhelming amount of anxiety and distress within Bundy, that he 287 unconsciously externalised an inaccurate, exaggerated image of his family to the world. This way, his ego went unscathed (Cramer, 2007; Northoff et al., 2007; Upadhyay, 2017).
Bundy’s patterns of social inadequacy and withdrawal appeared to intensify in his adolescent years. By the time Bundy was a senior at Woodrow Wilson High School in 1960, he felt stunted in terms of his social and emotional development; he thought of himself as a quintessential loner: shy and introverted (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). He expressed that he found it exceptionally difficult to make new friends, and struggled to adapt to normal changes usually encountered during adolescence (Sullivan, 2009). He communicated his feelings of social inadequacy to Michaud and Aynesworth (2000):
While I wanted to be a part of the secret societies and clubs, or whatever, I lacked either the
social skills or motivation to do it. I seemed intimidated by the more gregarious people in
my class – although I didn’t dislike them either. My way to compensate for that was to say,
“Well, I don’t go in for those things. I don’t like drinking. I don’t care for this carrying on,
the frivolity. I am a serious student. I’m above all this.” To some degree, that was my way of
defending myself against something I didn’t want to admit I desired to be part of (p. 24-25).
Bundy was, however, not the only one who became increasingly aware of his lack of social skills or ability to connect with others. Storwick, a close friend of Bundy’s at the time, recalled the following:
He was very funny, and very much on the mark. I took it as a token of his intelligence. He
didn’t have the confidence, however, to follow it up. He could have been a really strong
influence on a lot of people of he had had the self-confidence to go along with the intellect.
It seemed to me that he was just tongue-tied in social situations. It didn’t have to be girls; 288
meeting new friends, meeting new people from another school was a difficult thing for him
to do (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012, p. 59).
The researcher suggests that Bundy’s social incompetence led him to seek out situations that he could control. This way, he could avoid any external object or environmental circumstance that could potentially pose as a threat to his limited good self-representations. Thus, he compensated for his lack of social acumen by isolating himself. By withdrawing from others and the world around him, he was able to create a predictable and safe environment for himself. Bundy confirmed the latter inference through the subsequent statement to Michaud and Aynesworth
(2012): “I felt overwhelmed by things. I felt out of control. I felt I couldn’t manipulate the environment around me. I failed miserably” (p. 203). Bundy’s preferred means of isolation (and consequently, solace) centered on his love for listening to late night talk-show programs on his radio. The researcher believes that Bundy favoured radio conversations over real interactions with others because he was free to comment on what was being said without feeling ashamed, or receiving reprisal. Here, in his room, his opinions mattered, and his ego identity – how ever diffuse it was – remained unharmed and safe from a hostile world. Michaud and Aynesworth
(2012) expanded on the above:
Ted described his own youth as solitary. One of his favourite boyhood pastimes was
listening to late-talk radio. Alone in the dark of his room, he would pretend he was part of a
special and secret world. “I’d really get into it. As people would be calling in and speaking
their minds, I’d be formulating questions as if they were talking to me. It gave me a great
deal of comfort listening to them, and often it didn’t make a hell of a difference what they
were talking about. Here were people talking, and I was eavesdropping on their
conversations! I never discussed any of this with my parents” (p. 56). 289
From the above discussion, it is evident that Bundy transferred the representation of mistrust that he developed as an infant, over to his middle childhood and adolescence - hence, the tendency to isolate himself from others. Authors such as Keppel and Birnes (2007) agreed with
Kernberg’s (1984) premise that a child’s interactions during the earliest phase of their life is directly associated with how they will act in the future.
Children who are kept from reacting with their environments as newborns, either because
they’re institutionalised or because their parents simply neglect them, have to enter their
childhood years with an enormous handicap that impedes their ability to become socialised
members of a community (Keppel & Birnes, 2005, p. 316).
Academia: A psychological crutch. It is possible that Bundy constructed positive object relations associated with academic astuteness through his interactions with Mrs. Oyster. As previously stated, she frequently showered Bundy with compliments surrounding his intellectual abilities and verbal prowess (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Although subtle and understated, the researcher suspects that Bundy’s perceivably intense relationship with his first-grade teacher provides the reader with a first glimpse of his unconscious use of primitive idealisation. Mrs.
Oyster’s approval thus recurrently confirmed his good internal object of being clever. Bundy continued to obtain above-average grades throughout his junior and senior school career
(Dobbert, 2009).
It is, however, the researcher’s assertion that Bundy used his academic achievements as a crutch to conceal his social insecurities. To compensate for his relational deficits, Bundy reportedly pretended to be a serious scholar that regarded himself as ‘above’ attending frivolous teenage parties and drinking alcohol (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). He articulated his behaviour during his interview with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000): 290
I was accused on a couple of occasions of being aloof, arrogant, and snobby. But, it was just
this defense mechanism to protect my somewhat introverted nature. I used that to
compensate for my outright fear of socializing. Maybe, also, it was to protect myself,
because I couldn’t achieve those kinds of social goals that I wanted (p. 24).
The above-mentioned speaks to the progressive development and use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism. Kernberg (1976) and Vaknin (2015) clarified that omnipotence is analogous to a perpetual sense of grandiosity where an individual regards themselves as being extraordinarily intelligent or superior – particularly during periods of overwhelming stress or emotional upheaval. In addition, Dziegielewski (2010) maintained that an individual with personality pathology employs omnipotence as a defense mechanism to deal with conflicting emotional experiences, or internal or external stressors by acting as if they are ‘untouchable’.
The latter explanation largely coincides with Bundy’s behaviour. It may therefore be inferred that Bundy flaunted his intellectual abilities and projected an image of being superlative to his classmates to ward off any threatening or bad self-representations that could potentially damage his fragile ego (Schechter, 2003). By exaggerating his academic abilities, Bundy could thus disguise his lack of social involvement with indifference. Although the researcher only highlighted Bundy’s use of omnipotence within a scholarly context, it should be noted that his sense of grandiosity and entitlement permeated all other areas of his life, and continued into adulthood. These instances will, however, be discussed separately.
291
Figure 21: Twelve-year-old Bundy in Hunt Junior High School’s yearbook (1958).
The pattern of maladjustment discussed in the previous section is also apparent in Bundy’s school environment. According to Schechter (2003), Bundy reasoned that he thrived in formal situations such as in the classroom because his performance was measurable, and the rules were strict and transparent – unlike in social settings. Thus, he could parade his academic abilities without having to mimic social practices. Bundy substantiated the aforementioned through the following statement: “I spoke up in class. It’s a formalized setting, and the ground rules are fairly strict. Your performance is measured by different rules than what happens when everybody’s peeling off into little cliques down the hallway” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012, p. 59). Once again, it becomes evident that Bundy had an insatiable need to control his seemingly ‘hostile’ environment. As school offered a sense of predictability and stability, Bundy may have felt that he could exert a certain degree of control. Years later, during his psychiatric evaluation with Dr.
Tanay, Bundy still exhibited a dire need for control.
292
The report read:
[Bundy] lives life in a compulsive manner that is well ordered and exact. Events and actions,
as well as conversations are planned and rehearsed many times before they take place. It is
very important for him to never be caught off guard. Life is like a chess game to him. He is
mentally two moves ahead of his opponent, so no matter what move is made, he always has
several suitable countering actions that can reassure him success (Sullivan, 2009, p. 53).
Inferiority and the role of shame: The perception of rejection, deprivation, and failure.
When children grow up without acknowledgement by significant others, they come to
believe that what they may have to share is of little interest to others. This results in a sense
of inadequacy and shame. This damage to the basic self-structure may be described as a
basic fault or self-defect…[and is] expressed as a pathological lack of self-esteem, which is
characteristic of pathological narcissism…Feelings of inadequacy and shame are hidden by
a façade of grandiosity and exhibitionism, hollow emptiness, envy, and rage (Knight, 2006,
p. 1194-1195).
The above-mentioned extract unequivocally correlates with the life and actions of Bundy, and demonstrates yet another object relations pattern that played a substantial role in the development of his personality structure from childhood onwards. This pattern concerns representations that he constructed around shame and unworthiness. These self-representations may have manifested due to perceived feelings of rejection, deprivation, and failure that transpired (and were reinforced) in his middle childhood and adolescence.
When Bundy was approximately seven years old, he and his family settled down and brought a house in Narrows Bridge, Tacoma. From this point forward, Bundy’s life changed drastically, as he went from being an only child, to the eldest of four stepsiblings (Rule, 2009; 293
Sullivan, 2009). This radical shift in terms of family dynamics may have led Bundy to experience a sense of ‘dethronement’, or ‘displacement’, as he no longer had his parent’s undivided attention. It is thus likely that his representations of rejection, which formed during infancy, were reinforced, and intensified when he gained four additional siblings. Maglio (2012) explained that, “the fall from being number one is devastating to [a first-born’s] self-centered world” (para. 1). Although the latter is an everyday occurrence, Dunn and McGuire (1992) emphasised that there are countless variations in terms of how a first-born may react to the arrival of a new sibling, with some demonstrating more vulnerability to the modification of the family system than others do. They moreover indicated that first-borns who are more susceptible to emotional sensitivity, and may continue to harbor feelings of jealousy, resentment, and rejection into middle childhood and adolescence. They may even adopt a general sense of insecurity and anxiety that resurfaces during instances of perceived peril (Dunn & McGuire,
2012). It is thus the researcher’s contention that Bundy felt increasingly deprived with the birth of each new sibling, as the focus of his parents was no longer exclusively on him. She furthermore suggests that Bundy’s prolonged exposure to such subjectively perceived
‘disinterest’ might have served as a precursor for the development and use of primitive defense mechanisms such as omnipotence. This is because his parent’s apparent lack of concern may have threatened his ‘good’ self-representations and made him doubt his overall sense of self- worth. Thus, in order to combat these undesirable object relations, he would have split off the negative representations of the self, and magnified his ineradicable belief of being desirable to external objects. In doing so, he would protect his idealised self from contamination and/or destruction by the persecutory object (Caligor et al., 2007; Holmes, 2015; Kernberg, 1985). 294
The researcher is of the opinion that Bundy internalised this sense of insignificance as coming from the self, or as something that was lacking on his part (McGivern, 2015). This undoubtedly contributed to the development of a low self-esteem, as he would characterise himself as a ‘nuisance’ (because he was not receiving the amount of attention he thought he deserved) and as ‘shameful’ to the family (because he was the only child in the household born out of wedlock). Although emerging initially within his family household, Bundy’s lack of self- esteem and perception of shame seemed to exist in all spheres of his life. However, it was particularly prominent outside of his formal learning environment (that is, during extramural activities), and within his social interactions – especially with girls. Concerning sport, Bundy revealed that he always felt too small, and that he did not have the desirable weight or physique to participate in such extracurricular activities. In actuality, this was not true, but because he felt inferior, he never pushed himself hard enough to see what would happen if he persevered
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). The latter can be observed in Bundy’s explanation to Michaud and Aynesworth (2000).
I was never trained in basic sports. So, I was all on my own. I attempted to get into the
school basketball team and a couple of baseball teams, but I failed. It was terribly traumatic
for me. I just didn’t know what to do. I thought it was something personal. I always thought
I should do better. It was a source of some agony for me (p. 22-23).
Bundy’s parents seemed to reinforce Bundy’s representations of inferiority, failure, and rejection when they neglected to support his attempt at playing sports. He recalled:
My dad never played baseball, basketball, or football with me. We never threw the ball
around…He never had any feelings for it, none at all. My mom didn’t like it [either] because 295
it cost money. I didn’t have that parental stamp of approval (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000,
p. 22).
From Bundy’s narrative, it appears that his parents did not offer sufficient social support when he felt discouraged, disappointed, or dejected. According to Boeree (2006), this is problematic, as a child’s belief in their own competencies – and their subsequent feelings of efficiency – can only be fostered through encouragement and admiration from those closest to them. Thus, when this form of reassurance is absent, they may develop a pervasive sense of inferiority or inadequacy that may ultimately hamper their ability to complete a task or learn a new skill set; this is usually due to the fear of failure and humiliation (Morris & Maisto, 2002). Bundy attested to the above assumption:
The influence of [my] family and the environment in which I grew up were [fair], but not so
positive as to prepare [me] to totally avoid, or deal with failure. The thing is, some people
are just psychologically less ready for failure than others (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p.
68).
The dismissal of Bundy’s efforts to participate in extracurricular activities seemed to exacerbate his sense of inferiority and shame. The researcher suggests that these representations of the self, led him to doubt his abilities. Erikson (1950) succinctly summarised the latter by maintaining that, “doubt is the brother of shame” (p. 253). Thus, when a child acquires a sense of shame through repeatedly being exposed to interactions that occupy negative affective tones, they may start – and continue – to doubt themselves. This will ultimately damage the child’s self- confidence and self-esteem, hamper their identity formation, and debilitate their chances of developing a healthy, stable personality structure (Hergenhahn, 1984; Kernberg, 1984, 1998,
2004a). Brown (2010) clarified the researcher’s notion of shame: 296
Shame corrodes the part of us that believes that we can do better. When we experience
shame or fear of shame, we feel disconnected and desperate for worthiness and are more
likely to engage in self-destructive behaviour or attack or shame others. It is the fear that
something we have done or failed to do makes us unworthy of being in a relationship. It is
the intensely painful belief that we are flawed and therefor unworthy of love and belonging
(p. 41).
One can also observe Bundy’s ever-growing inferiority complex (Hamachek, 1988) in his interactions with girls. Although Bundy’s early patterns of isolation and social inadequacy surfaced during all of his interactions, his insecurities seemed to become more pronounced around females (Sullivan, 2009). According to McClellan (2006) and Michaud and Aynesworth
(2012), Bundy never dated during high school, and by no means pursued any girl romantically.
While many girls found his piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and relatively athletic frame attractive,
Bundy insisted that he could not recognise when they were interested in him, and added that he never saw himself as physically appealing. In his mind, he was average – if not substandard – a wallflower that exhibited no particular talents worthy of notice or applause. Sullivan (2009) communicated Bundy’s uncertainties in detail in his book titled, The Bundy Murders: A
Comprehensive History:
Later, [Bundy] would convey to others just how lost he felt during this period in his life.
When it came to women, they always found him attractive, even in high school. However, it
was well known that he did not date. Indeed, this appeal to females would only grow as he
entered adulthood. Once Bundy opened his mouth and began to speak, he only increased his
chances with the opposite sex because he was both articulate and charming. In fact, [he] was
really likeable. Yet, Bundy could never see himself this way. The fracture in his personality 297
would never allow him to see himself as good-looking, or charming, or desired by women.
They could be true about others, he reasoned, but never about him (p. 51).
Figure 22: Bundy as a senior in Woodrow Wilson High School (1963).
The above discussion regarding Bundy’s inhibited constitution appears to explain, in part, his sense of grandiosity and entitlement. It is the researcher’s contention that Bundy’s lack of self-esteem, and subsequent failures in early life created extreme discomfort and frustration in his psyche. These negative self-representations were, in essence, irreconcilable with his ideal or
‘good’ self (hence the use of primitive defense mechanisms such as omnipotence). The aforementioned undoubtedly serves as proof of developing personality pathology, as Bundy seemed to perceive himself as ‘all bad’ in terms of his relational incompetence, physical appearance, and mediocre sporting skills. When an individual’s ego is overwhelmed by negative representations such as in the case of Bundy, their ability to integrate positive and negative 298 object relations is debilitated. This prevents the ego from proper development, and consequently causes a radical split to occur between contradictory valences. The outcome of this splitting is the compartmentalisation of opposing aspects of the self and others to reduce, or completely avoid, any form of emotional threat directed towards their good internal self (Caligor et al., 2007;
Kernberg, 1984, 1998; Perlow, 1995; Sutherland, 1963). This means that Bundy’s ability to experience the self and others as whole objects that constitute good and bad qualities simultaneously was diminished (Clarkin et al., 2007; Johnson, 1991). Since Bundy’s good core was inundated by bad representations of inferiority, shame, rejection, failure, one can assume that he unconsciously made use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism to protect and enhance his ideal self. Thus, by acting in an arrogant or entitled manner, he could alleviate the anxiety that accompanied his inadequacies. Knight (2006) encapsulated this form of behaviour by explicating that individuals who fall within Kernberg’s borderline configuration, and show evidence of personality pathology such as narcissism, possess a particular “type of defensive psychic organisation that hides a defective self, which manifests as a pathological lack of self- esteem defended against by compensatory grandiosity and exhibitionism” (p. 1197). These aspects of his character (that is, his sense if grandiosity and superiority) will, however, be discussed in a separate section.
A lurking threat: Emerging evidence of anger and aggression. Throughout the literature on Bundy, the emphasis has always been on his violent and sadistic acts towards women as an adult. However, the researcher believes that he started to exhibit subtle patterns of anger and aggression at a much earlier age. In fact, she suspects that Bundy’s representations of anger and aggression were initiated during his infancy and early childhood due to his relational difficulties 299 with his family, and his volatile environment. The rationale behind this assumption centers on the following aspects of Bundy’s early life:
The thwarting of his psychological and emotional needs as an infant;
The initial abandonment by his mother;
His early exposure to physical violence and mental illness by his grandparents;
The discovery of his illegitimacy and real identity;
The abrupt and bewildering separation from his grandparents.
In keeping with the above, one may deduce that Bundy developed deep-seated feelings of resentment, betrayal, and rage towards his family – and for the most part, his mother. This led him to believe that nobody could be trusted, and that everyone was out to get him. As a result, Bundy characterised his environment as being hostile and persecutory. These patterns seemed to permeate all areas of his life, and progressively increased and intensified as he entered middle childhood and adolescence.
The physical manifestation of Bundy’s underlying animosity first presented itself during his junior school years. Egger (2003) and Schechter (2003, p. 161) revealed that, “[Bundy’s] recurrent temper tantrums were violent enough to worry teachers", and that they found it extremely difficult to discipline Bundy effectively. His outbursts were usually attributable to the dismissal of his unreasonable and excessive demands in class, or outside settings such as Boy
Scouts, or Catechesis. Thus, when Bundy did not get his way, he acted out in an intemperate and destructive manner. One such altercation ensued during a playground brawl when Bundy hit another child in the nose with his fist (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). While the reader might interpret this event as a typical schoolyard tussle, the researcher is of the opinion that it demonstrated an unconscious ‘discharge’ or externalisation of negative self-representations in an 300 attempt to alleviate intolerable feelings of anxiety (Caligor et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1984, 2004b).
This anxiety could have partly stemmed from being bullied by his fellow schoolmates, but these rumours have gone unconfirmed. Nevertheless, Storwick and Warren Dodge – another of
Bundy’s close friends – confirmed the above inference by divulging that Bundy’s temper flared up on numerous occasions during school and extracurricular activities – considerably more than is commonly expected of a child his age (Rule, 2013). For example, Bundy propelled a ceramic plate at another scout’s face for hacking a small tree with an axe. On a different occasion, he also struck a fellow scout, John Moon, over the head with a weighty branch after a meaningless, run- of-the-mill argument. Apparently, the latter incident was a very deliberate attack on Moon, as
Bundy struck him from behind. This implies that Bundy fully intended to do bodily harm towards a fellow human being (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). It moreover proves the researcher’s earlier assertion that Bundy had an intense desire to control his environment and the reactions of others. By attacking someone from behind, he ensured that Moon had no way of protecting himself or assuming power over the situation.
When taking into consideration all of the preceding accounts, the motive behind Bundy’s hostility becomes more discernable and pronounced. Although the recurring theme of rejection and betrayal were the most likely precursors in the development of Bundy’s escalating aggressive ‘episodes’, the researcher believes that it was the overwhelming accumulation of negative representations within his psyche that led him to act out in in such an impulsive and ill- conceived manner. Thus, the amalgamation of anxiety-provoking object relations centering on representations such as inferiority, distrust, rejection, shame, failure, deprivation, betrayal, and social inadequacy may have provoked his aggressive behaviour (Jamet, 2012; Leibman, 1989).
Bundy essentially confirmed the above hypothesis during his prison interview with Michaud and 301
Aynesworth (2000): “Well, you can only imagine that kind of intense rage…of the kind that would perhaps be uncharacteristic…uh, built up – and that kind of individual might uh (long pause), act out in an uncontrollable fashion…” (p. 244).
Bundy’s aggressive behaviour towards others once again points towards the gradual development of personality pathology and the lack of psychic integration, since it alludes to the unconscious use devaluation as defense mechanisms. Although the specifics pertaining to the above events are unknown, one can reasonably conclude that the interactions that transpired triggered one (or more) of Bundy’s negative representations. He consequently perceived these interactions as threatening to his fragile ego state, and split off the opposing affective experience in order to protect his good internal self from harm (Caligor et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1984, 1998;
Perlow, 1995; Sutherland, 1963). In doing so, he projected these negative self-representations outwards, and into an external object. Through devaluation, the persecuted object was made to look inferior, worthless, weak, or revolting, while he continued to perceive himself as flawless and superior (Blackman, 2004; Kernberg, 1985). Although devaluation is generally understood as the verbal ascription of undesirable qualities to the persecuted object, it may also be acted out through physical violence. This is because the fundamental rationale behind devaluation rests on the fulfillment of an unconscious wish to ‘destroy’ the object that frustrated the individual’s needs. It is thus the researcher’s contention that Bundy’s acts of physical aggression served as a symbolic form of destruction – an unconscious ‘killing’ of the hated object that failed to comply with his wishes (Knight, 2006). Knight (2006) further explained that, “when rage and aggression are directed outward [due to the lack of idealisation], it becomes violent, and violence becomes a narcissistic defense against feelings of low self-esteem and worthlessness” (p. 1200). 302
Overall, the emerging evidence of Bundy’s anger and aggression testifies to the development of a diffuse or fragmented identity. His destructive actions suggest a failed attempt at repression, as his ‘forbidden’ impulses produced in fantasy, remained conscious, and were intensified when triggered by actions that made him feel worthless, rejected, or betrayed
(Kernberg & Caligor, 2005). Kernberg and Caligor (2005) indicated that the latter leads to intensely charged, irrational interactions, as there is no neutralisation of their drive derivatives.
Bundy clearly demonstrated this in his interactions, as his behaviours were extreme, unfounded, and unreasonable in comparison to the actual events occurring. In instances where drive derivatives are not neutralised, an individual’s emotional experiences become unregulated and overly intense. They are thus unable to identify and discriminate between persecutory, realistic, and idealistic representations of the self and others (Christopher et al., 2001; Clarkin et al., 2007;
Kernberg, 1998). This ultimately hampers their ability to experience guilt, and explains why
Bundy thought it socially acceptable to harm others physically.
Materialism: An introductory window into entitlement, grandiosity, and envy. Bundy exhibited an extraordinary penchant for material possessions from a young age (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). During an exclusive interview with Michaud and Aynesworth (2012),
Bundy’s mother recalled that even as a small child, he would gravitate towards the most expensive clothing displays at the department store. She moreover conveyed that Bundy had a deep desire to be just like his Uncle Jack, as he “exudes a great sense of accomplishment and
[had] and aura of extreme wealth” (Rippo, 2007, p. 49). Bundy later confessed to the latter:
“Yeah, I mean, there was…I found something inherently attractive and compelling about my uncle. His demeanor, his intellect, his culture, and so forth…He was a refined gentleman”
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 206-207). The aforementioned is likely a display of primitive 303 idealisation, as Bundy perceived his uncle as someone after whom he could pattern his life upon
– someone worthy of endless admiration and glorification. Under these circumstances, Bundy would have experienced his uncle (the idealised object) as an extension of the self, as it made it possible for him to inflate his uncle’s desirable features (and by proxy, his own), and overlook his weaknesses or imperfections (Hinshelwood, 2004; Nesse & Lloyd, 1992). The latter would then also safeguard his fragile ego and ‘good’ self-representations (Blackman, 2004).
His yearning for material wealth and prosperity was, however, unfeasible, as his parents earned meager wages, and they had no choice but to be pragmatic and close-fisted with their income. This seemed to trouble Bundy profoundly. He communicated this experience as follows:
There were all kinds of things happening to me mentally. I felt inferior, in part, because of
the money thing. My family didn’t have money problems per se, but I was always envious
of the kids who lived in all those brick houses where the executives and doctors lived. I felt
kind of deprived, at a disadvantage to those people who had money, the successful parents,
all the goodies (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 25).
Rippo (2007) elaborated on the above by stating that Bundy felt increasingly self-conscious and
“ashamed of his family’s lower class status” (p. 50). He supposedly experienced a great deal of humiliation whenever someone would see him in his father’s ramshackle Rambler automobile, and blatantly expressed his hatred for the house and neighbourhood that his family lived in. In later years, he revealed that he was awfully embarrassed to bring friends over because he had to sleep in the basement where the renovations were never completed (Kendall, 1981; Rippo, 2007).
The researcher hypothesises that Bundy’s materialistic proclivity served as a cornerstone for the development of object relations patterns such as grandiosity, entitlement, and envy. Since he could not acquire an abundance of wealth or the admiration that came with it, his representations 304 of inferiority, deprivation, and failure were reinforced. Bundy confirmed the latter through his revelations to Dawson (2015):
I always felt like an outsider from the wrong side of the tracks. In high school, I was very
shy and socially awkward, inept, and out of my depth – partly because I was from this
working class or lower-middle class family. This self-consciousness followed me to college
(p. 125).
Authors such as Ivey (1989) and Knight (2006) explained that when an individual experiences an unrelenting lack of self-esteem, it generally leads to interaction patterns centered on compensatory grandiosity and entitlement in order to protect a weak or fragile ego structure.
Kernberg (1974, 1975, 1984, 1986, as cited in Knight, 2006, p. 1195) elaborated on the above by highlighting that “the phenomenological aspect of pathological conditions such as narcissism is a chronic experience of emptiness, helplessness, and vulnerability. These feelings are protected by the hard shell of grandiosity and exhibitionism, and are a defense against inadequacy and low self-esteem”.
Figure 23: Bundy’s childhood home in Tacoma, Washington (remodeled) (n.d.). 305
Bundy’s lower social and financial status stood in direct opposition to his ideal conception of his self (that is, to live an ostentatious and lavish lifestyle where he would be continuously idolised or worshipped for his suave demeanor and expensive possessions). It is likely that these conflicting aspects of the self, caused him to experience an overwhelming degree of psychological anguish and distress, since it called into question his good self-image. Thus in order to relieve this sense of ‘impending doom’, he unconsciously split off his patterns of inadequacy, and was left with idealised patterns associated with grandiosity, arrogance, and entitlement (Kernberg, 1998). This way, he viewed himself in an idealised manner. These patterns are evident in some of the reported incidents of his childhood. As previously mentioned, teachers found it very difficult to discipline Bundy at school. They stated that, “when things went wrong, he would blame authority figures or the system…he felt that he was above reproach”
(Egger, 2003, p. 143). This not only reflected Bundy’s lack of accountability, but also emphasised his entitled belief system, which stipulated that he was inherently deserving of special treatment or privileges. Many of Bundy’s school friends also asserted that he acted as if he was more mature and superior than the rest of the class, and that he turned up his nose when they invited him to play games with them (Buss, 2005). This once again proved his grandiose thinking.
The above interpretations demonstrate a large discrepancy between Bundy’s realistic self and his idealised self. When integration occurs successfully, it enables the child to identify and discriminate between persecutory, realistic, and idealistic representations of the self and others
(Clarkin et al., 2007; Kernberg, 1998). Thus, they are capable of separating and differentiating between who they inherently are, and who they aspire to be. However, where integration is deficient, the individual’s persecutory are split off and projected outward. Consequently, their 306 ego only consists of realistic and idealistic representations (no matter how disparate they may be). This ultimately means that their ego has a grandiose ‘flavour’, since the individual unequivocally believes that this is who they are (that is, superior and flawless). There are thus no negative representations within their psyche that can temper their self-view. As a result, Bundy lived in a world where his realistic self was his idealised self (hence the imbedded omnipotence and developing personality pathology) (Kernberg, 1995, 1998).
A fantasy prone personality: Escaping reality, finding sexuality. When a child’s primary caregiver fails to provide them with the necessary degree of mirroring, idealisation (that is, unconditional positive regard and adoration), and recognition in terms of their emerging needs, the child’s sense of self and reality goes unconfirmed and remains indefinite (Knight, 2006;
Kohut, 1977; Winnicott, 1945, 1963). Under these circumstances, the child often escapes into a fantasy world where they are able to experience feelings of pleasure, gratification, and of being in control of their environment and the people who inhabit it (Freud, 1957). Whitman and
Akutagawa (2004) added that a child who is disregarded by their primary caretaker in terms of meeting their psychological, social, and emotional needs, are at a much higher risk of developing antisocial and (sexually) violent habits. Since their realities are so discombobulated and disturbed, they often look inward to acquire a sense of structure, solace, and relief. In instances where personality pathology is actively unfolding within a child’s psyche – especially in middle childhood or adolescence – their inner fantasy life may take on a sexual overtone. This may subsequently induce compulsive behaviours such as masturbation, and in more severe cases, paraphilic activities such as voyeurism, exhibitionism, fetishism, or sexual sadism (APA, 2013;
Dimitropoulos, 2018; Knight, 2006). The latter is especially true for those who exhibit early signs of Cluster B personality disorders such as Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Borderline 307
Personality Disorder, and Antisocial Personality Disorder (APA, 2013; Kernberg, 1984, 2004a,
2004b). When one relates the above inferences to Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory and his conception of drive derivatives, it becomes all the more plausible (Long, 2009).
Kernberg (1966, 1975, 1984) maintained that an individual who possesses a fragmented or diffuse identity fails to repress their libidinal and aggressive drives into their id. Instead, these primitive needs, impulses, fantasies, and desires remain conscious, and are overstimulated during certain types of interactions. This ultimately leads to intensely charged, irrational exchanges with an object. Accordingly, their libidinal drives become perverse and frenzied, while their aggressive drives become brutal, immoral, and, in certain cases, homicidal (Kernberg & Caligor,
2005).
The above-mentioned resonates strongly with Bundy’s youth, and was particularly prominent during his middle childhood and adolescent years. As indicated previously, Bundy was an archetypical loner, who felt inadequate and worthless in comparison to others (Michaud
& Aynesworth, 2012). It is thus likely that he attempted to counteract or ‘undo’ his enduring representations of loneliness and incompetency by slipping into a fantasy world where his anxiety and frustration could be temporarily relieved (Dimitropoulos, 2018). Here, he could reinforce his idealised, omnipotent self-image, and indirectly bolster his presumptuous convictions of being glorified or worshipped by those around him (Bowins, 2016; Kernberg,
1976). It also provided him with an undisclosed locale where he could rehearse and explore scenarios that would otherwise be prohibited by societal norms (such as, sexual deviancy or domination) (Glausiusz, 2014).
From the literature, one can easily deduce that Bundy’s mental images concerning sex steadily consumed his everyday thought patterns, and coloured his perception of reality from a 308 very young age; it seemed as though he found it increasingly difficult to repress his libidinal drives. He, for example, called his fourth-grade teacher a “voluptuous disciplinarian”, and masturbated in the broom closet of his classroom on several occasions during junior school
(Sullivan, 2009, p. 50). The latter serves as further testimony of Bundy’s diffuse identity, since his ego was too weak to govern his bodily instincts that originated in his id. Thus, his only focus was the gratification of his own needs by acting in an unprincipled and irrational manner. In doing so, he could discharge the buildup of sexual tension and anxiety within his psyche
(Chalquist, 2001). The researcher is of the opinion that Bundy’s compulsive acts of masturbation, and unwarranted sexual ruminations reinforced his representations of shame, isolation, and social incompetency. This is because he could not openly confide in someone about his sexually orientated fantasy world and insatiable state of sexual arousal. What made his situation even worse was the period in which he grew up. D’Emilio and Freedman (1998) postulated that the discourse pertaining to sexuality in the 1950s and 1960s (that is, post-World
War II) was rigid, prudish, and solely admissible within the confines of a marital union. They furthermore detailed that “in the post war years, the American dream of the nuclear family defined sexuality in a marital context, leaving no place for single sexual culture, homosexuality, or any other type of sexuality not considered mainstream” (p. 261). Thus, the topic of sexual desire or fantasy was primarily considered taboo – especially when it came to children and unwedded young adults (D’Emilio & Freedman, 1998). In keeping with the norms of the time, it can be assumed that Bundy would have been institutionalised if anyone learned of his sexual proclivities, as mental illness was largely misunderstood and even feared during those times
(Phelan, Link, Stueve, & Pescosolido, 2000). It is thus understandable that he regressed into 309 fantasy rather than expose his anomalous internal experiences to others, as he would not have been able to control their reactions upon discovering his sexually deviant desires.
Bundy’s carnal “condition” – as he later labeled it – appeared to escalate during his teenage years (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 71). By the time he entered high school, he was eagerly engaging with pornographic materials that, over the course of time, became increasingly explicit and sadistic (Dawson, 2015). To satisfy his sexual fantasies, Bundy revealed that he relied on the neighborhood’s trashcans to unearth pre-owned detective and pornographic books, magazines, and pictures of naked women (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). He detailed his early experiences of pornography to Dawson (2015):
I began casually reading soft-core pornography when I was 12 or 13 years old. [I] found
pornography books and magazines in the garbage cans in my neighborhood…I developed a
stronger and stronger sex addiction to more and more brutal pornography. From time to
time, I would come across pornographic books and magazines of a harder nature – more
brutal, more graphic, explicit nature than I would encounter at the local grocery store.
Slowly, over the years reading pornography, it began to become a deadly insidious habit. I
would keep looking for more potent materials [to read]. Like any addiction, you keep
craving for something that is harder…something [that] gives you a greater sense of
excitement. Then I reached a point where the pornography only went so far… (p. 92-93).
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Figure 24: One of the ‘detective’ magazines that Bundy engaged with during adolescence.
By the age of 15, Bundy promoted his sexual practices to include voyeurism, and frequently snuck out of his home at night to masturbate while watching women undress (Rippo, 2007). He later conveyed that he perceived his Peeping Tom behaviour to be a “viable alternative” to pornographic magazines, as he acquired a great amount of gratification from it (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2000, p. 74). He added that it heightened his sexual fantasies to the point where he craved violent sexual activities that brought about death, and “let [him] satisfy [his] sick fantasies while [he] kept the woman, the object of [his] obsession, at a safe distance” (Dawson,
2015, p. 138; Dobbert, 2009).
It is the researcher’s claim that the division between Bundy’s fantasy world, and that of reality slowly dissipated the more he entertained and buckled under the weight of his sexual urges (Carlisle, 2013). Clarkin et al. (2007) and Kernberg (2004a) highlighted that an individual who possesses personality pathology and has a tendency to use splitting as a defense mechanism, is prone to lapses in social reality testing, as they demonstrate “a bland denial and lack of 311 concern over the contradiction in their behaviour and internal experience” (p. 28). This ultimately hampers the individual’s ability to process perceptions of the external world accurately (Caligor et al., 2007). Bundy clearly exhibited the aforementioned in his behaviour, as his fantasy life seemed to merge and become one with his reality. His sexual desires no longer remained within his psyche, but actively manifested itself in the form of compulsive masturbation and voyeurism (for the time being). During one of his numerous television interviews, Bundy attested to the researcher’s above inference: “I was a normal person. I had good friends. I led a normal life, except for this one, small, but very potent and destructive segment of myself that I kept very secret and close to myself – a hidden part of my reality”
(Bundy, television interview, January 23, 1989). Bundy’s violent sexual fantasies also give the impression that he was unable to separate his libidinal and aggressive drives from each other.
Knight (2006) elaborated on this assumption by elucidating that many [serial killers] “furiously blend together aggression and sexual fantasy to the point of nondifferentiation” (p. 1202). This makes sense if one considers the type of pornography he was interested in: sadistic and violent.
Lastly, the researcher believes that Bundy’s representations of rejection, social inadequacy, and powerlessness unconsciously reinforced his voyeuristic behaviour. The reasoning behind this supposition rests on the premise of acquiring control over an object. By furtively peeking into an unsuspecting woman’s window while she undressed, Bundy was able to dictate the whole of the
‘interaction’, and indirectly strengthen his grandiose view of himself, as he was ‘above’ detection. In addition, as none of the women knew they were being watched, Bundy would not be subjected to their outraged responses and, naturally, rejection.
Time to crime: Embracing juvenile delinquency. By the time Bundy entered high school, his patterns involving grandiosity and entitlement grew in complexity, and took on a felonious 312 quality. Delivering newspapers and mowing the lawns in his neighborhood did not seem to meet his monetary expectations or satisfy his heightened sense of (material) possession (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2000). To salvage his financial ‘imposition’, Bundy resorted to petty theft as an alternative method of material gain, and became a fervent shoplifter by the age of 15 (Rule,
2013). His stolen goods usually included the likes of expensive brand name clothing and ski equipment (Dawson, 2015). He moreover counterfeited his own tickets so that he could ski on the slopes without charge over the weekends (Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). Over the duration of his teenage years, Bundy’s criminal activities appeared to escalate, as police suspected him of committing offenses such as larceny and grand theft auto on more than two occasions. However, he was never officially charged with any of the above misdemeanors. Ironically, he intended to pursue a career in law enforcement once he graduated from high school (Rippo, 2007).
It is the researcher’s opinion that Bundy’s illegal undertakings reinforced his self- representations of grandiosity and entitlement. The rationale behind her assumption centers on the fact that he was never formally prosecuted. Thus, the more he escaped the law, the more arrogant he became, and the more he perceived himself to be ‘untouchable’. It is likely that the latter also resulted in the generation of representations centered on deception and manipulation, since Bundy repeatedly outwitted police after executing a crime. The above incidences also reflect Bundy’s use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism, as he attributed qualities to himself that were – realistically speaking – far more idealistic and superior than the qualities that he actually possessed (Kernberg, 1969). He consequently identified with an “over-idealized self- representation” (Kernberg, 2004a, p. 101). As defense mechanisms are unconscious reactions to internal and external stressors, one may argue that Bundy interacted with objects as though his 313 idealised, grandiose self was his actual self. An internal dialogue that habitually confirmed his sense of perfection thus governed his actions.
Besides having an overstated sense of self, Bundy’s unlawful ways also pointed towards evidence of Conduct Disorder – an array of disruptive and/or violent types of behaviour displayed in children and adolescence that usually (but not always) serves as a precursor for
Antisocial Personality Disorder (APA, 2013; Matthys & Lochman, 2017). Although it is not the researcher’s aim to diagnose Bundy as such, she believes that he exhibited early signs of psychopathy. According to the DSM-5, conduct disorder is characterised by repetitive and persistent patterns of behaviour that violates the basic rights of others, or age-appropriate societal norms and rules. These patterns include (1) aggressive or violent behaviour towards people or animals, (2) the damage of property, (3) deceitfulness or theft, and (4) serious violations of social rules. Bundy presented with all of the above before the age of 15, making him the ‘perfect candidate’ for developing a borderline personality configuration.
Object Relations in Adulthood
“Whatever is rejected from the self, appears in the world as an event” (Jung, 1964, p.7).
The following segment details several of the most prominent object relational patterns observed in Bundy’s adulthood.
Social chameleon syndrome: The art of deception and manipulation. Bundy’s patterns of deception and manipulation formed the cornerstone of the literature produced on him, and infiltrated all spheres of his life. During the course of his adulthood, Bundy seemed to adopt an entirely new (and polar opposite) identity to that which he portrayed during his school-going years. It was as if his disposition instantaneously went from being shy, quiet, and insecure, to candid, charming, witty, and self-assured overnight. The novelty of a university environment that 314 comprised of people who were unacquainted with each other’s pasts, appeared to offer Bundy the perfect opportunity to not only reinvent himself, but to reconstruct his reality in its entirety – on the surface at least. Bundy became highly proficient in altering his appearance, identity, and mannerisms depending on the situation he found himself in; he befitted whatever character he thought he needed to be in order to gain the maximum amount of adoration, praise, or pity from those around him (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Ramsland (2015) labeled the latter behaviour as “chameleonic flexibility” (para. 24). Dawson (2015) corroborated the above:
Ted Bundy was a changeling whose looks varied depending on his mood, hairstyle,
intoxication level, sleep deprivation, who he was around, and what he was doing at the
moment…and because he was mercurial, – a chameleon who continually looked different –
he was extremely difficult to identify by victims, eyewitnesses, and police (p. 14-15).
Michaud and Aynesworth (2012) speculated that it was during this particular phase in
Bundy’s life, that he started to fabricate a socially acceptable mask; a public persona that would convince those around him that he was the epitome of unrivaled perfection. In his prison interviews with Dr. Paul Dawson (2015), Bundy confessed that he was desperate to impress those around him. He stated that he would often exaggerate his accomplishments, and would lie to make himself seem more successful than he actually was. Brooks, (Bundy’s first love), moreover reported that she always had a “niggling suspicion” that he lied to and manipulated people into getting whatever he wanted (Rippo, 2007, p. 53). One such instance involved
Bundy’s unmerited entrance into the University of Utah’s law program. Despite obtaining substandard scores on his Law School Admissions Test, he gained admission into the program based exclusively on recommendation letters written by several of his psychology professors 315
(Dawson, 2015; Sullivan, 2009). His demeanor was extremely persuasive and enthralling. In one such recommendation letter, his professor depicted him as follows:
It is clear that other students use him, as a standard to emulate…His personal
characteristics are all of the highest ranks. Ted is a mature young man who is very
responsible and emotionally stable. He is exceedingly bright, personable, highly motivated,
and conscientious. He conducts himself more like a young professional than like a student.
He has the capacity for hard work and because of his intellectual curiosity is a pleasure to
work with. I am at a loss to delineate any real weaknesses he has (Dawson, 2015, p. 38-39;
Vronsky, 2004, p. 114).
Bundy’s innate need to manipulate Utah’s tertiary institution did not stop there. To safeguard his acceptance into the program, he attempted to entice sympathy from the university’s law lecturers by writing to them about his self-professed childhood ‘adversities’. The letter reportedly included a detailed description of his experiences as an orphan, and how being surrendered to several potential adoptive homes motivated him to pursue a career in children’s law. This way, he could improve on, and modify the foster system (Rule, 2009; Dawson, 2015). The latter was, of course, only a ploy to ensure a favourable outcome in terms of his admission status, and never really occurred.
The above example hints at the dichotomy that characterised Bundy’s life, and demonstrates his intense use of denial as a defense mechanism. It is also possible that he actually experience himself as an orphan due to his history of abandonment. He thus denied the parts of his experience that contradicted this internalised conviction. The researcher believes that the overwhelming accumulation of negative representations within his psyche triggered a ‘Jekyll- and-Hyde’ response, and unconsciously compelled him to split off the portions of himself that 316 threatened his good internal objects during various instances (Kernberg, 1969). The creation of a likeable façade could have such a high degree of splitting attached to it, that it ultimately compensated for his deep-seated feelings of incompetence, worthlessness, and rejection. Caligor et al. (2007) explained that denial reinforces the split in an individual’s psyche by “maintaining a disregard for aspects of the internal or external world that are either contradictory or potentially threatening” (p. 29). Thus, Bundy denied his incompetence in support of the likeable façade.
This is because his ego was too weak to merge positive and negative representations into a unified whole. In instances where an individual’s identity is diffuse, they alternate between various object relational patterns depending on which representations get triggered or activated in a certain interaction (Kernberg, 1998). Kernberg (1998) added that the latter is generally associated with ego structures that are unmetabolised. These psychic configurations remain separate from the individual’s core ego structure, but are still “pathologically fixed” (Kernberg,
1998, p. 131). Consequently, when a particular interaction pattern becomes triggered, a conflicting aspect of the ego is split off and denied in its entirety. This ultimately means that although Bundy had the capacity to remember his previous viewpoints or perceptions of an event, it no longer had emotional relevance for him (Kernberg, 2004a). Bundy’s fragmented identity and subsequent use of denial thus induced a sense of ambiguity that permeated all areas of his livelihood. It was particularly observable in his relationships with women, his employment opportunities, his modus operandi in terms of killing women, and during his murder trials and courtroom appearances. These are briefly discussed below.
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Figure 25: Bundy striking a pose while washing dishes after a birthday party (1975).
After graduating from high school in 1965, Bundy’s uncertainty regarding women seemed to dissipate at a rapid pace. Instead, he used his physical appeal, charm, and glibness to captivate their attention and seduce them into sleeping with him (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Sullivan,
2009). Three such women maintained long-term relationships with him, and experienced his deceptive and manipulative behaviours for extended periods of time, namely Brooks, Kendall, and Boone (Rule, 2009). Kendall, for example, recalled that Bundy was so handsome and beguiling during their first date that she was “already planning their wedding and naming their kids” by the end of the evening (Vronsky, 2004, p. 113). Even though he cheated on her several times with co-workers and women he picked up at bars, Kendall described him as a tender and loving man who took the role of a father figure seriously (Kendall, 1981). However, when
Dawson (2015) questioned Bundy about his affairs, his true colours emerged. He stated that, “I 318 was somewhat of a playboy…So of course I’d need to lie to one woman I was involved with to see another simultaneously…If a guy was killing women and juggling girlfriends, deception and lying is a must” (p. 59-60). Similarly, Boone recounted that she was instantly attracted to
Bundy’s sensitive, emotional nature (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Bundy manipulated her into believing in his innocence to such an extent that she stood by his side through all of his trials and convictions, and advocated for his innocence to the media every chance she could get despite all the evidence piled up against him. His ‘performance’ was so convincing that she relocated to
Florida to be closer to him while incarcerated, and made him lunch on a daily basis so that he did not have to eat the prison’s food (Rule, 2013).
The split in Bundy’s identity also manifested within his various working environments.
While completing his studies, Bundy volunteered at Seattle’s Crisis Clinic where he worked as a counsellor operating their suicide hotline (Dawson, 2015). Rule, a fellow volunteer, conveyed that Bundy always made her feel safe and protected when they worked the late-night shift together, and that he showed her a great amount of support and kindness during challenging periods in her life (Rule, 2009). She described her experience with Bundy: “I can picture him today…see him hunched over the phone, talking steadily, reassuringly – see him look up at me, shrug, and grin…He was never brusque, never hurried” (Ramsland, 2015, para. 4). Ironically, other co-workers at the clinic divulged that Bundy apathetically scolded desperate callers for not having control over their emotions, and that he sometimes put the phone down in their ears
(Ramsland, 2015). Other occupation-orientated events that was paradoxical in Bundy’s adult life involved working for the Crime Prevention Advisory Commission to launch a pilot study on rape prevention, and working with law enforcement to apprehend a thief, and save a three-year-old boy from drowning in a lake (McClellan, 2006; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009). 319
Many seemed to view Bundy as a local hero; however, he seemed to be playing the role of a hero and a villain simultaneously. Sullivan (2009) accurately summarised the latter through stating that, “It was as though what people saw outwardly in him was so definite that it allowed the full truth to remain invisible…Only his victims saw the real Ted Bundy” (p. 289).
One of Bundy’s most infamous acts of deception involved his modus operandi to abduct his unsuspecting victims. By feigning injury with the use of a fake cast, arm-sling, or crutch, Bundy lured women to his VW Beetle by asking them to help carry his books. This not only facilitated him in gaining sympathy from them, but also distracted them from the ensuing danger. Once they reached his car, he overpowered, handcuffed, and assaulted them with a crowbar before transporting them to more secluded or isolated areas. Here, he would rape, and subsequently murder them. During a separate instance, Bundy even impersonated a police officer, and went by the name of ‘Officer Roseland’ to coax one of his victims into his vehicle (Dawson, 2015;
Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012).
During his murder trials and courtroom appearances, Bundy played the role of a wrongly accused victim, and broadcast his ‘innocence’ to anyone who was willing to listen – including the press. Those attending his trials also noted how easy it was for him to change his physical appearance. Since he lacked defining facial features, he could simply grow a mustache or a beard, comb his hair differently, or gain or lose weight, and his appearance would change dramatically (Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999). One of his judges remarked:
I did notice very conscious efforts on [Bundy’s] part to change his appearance. His
expression would change his whole appearance that there were moments that you weren’t
sure that you were looking at the same person as you had been half an hour before. Or the
day before. Or the morning before (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012, p. 161). 320
Besides the abovementioned attempts at deception, Bundy also altered his accent to sound
British, sported white tennis clothes to look like a ‘jock’, wore a fake moustache to alter his appearance, and took acting classes to learn how to apply makeup, and to acquire skills in the art of using disguises (Dawson, 2015; Kendall, 1981; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009).
On several occasions, he also made use of aliases to conceal his criminal activities. These included pseudonyms such as Chris Hagen, Kenneth Misner, Richard Burton, and Rolf Miller
(Sullivan, 2017).
Patterns of interaction. In previous sections, the researcher demonstrated Bundy’s continuous struggle to establish and maintain relationships. The patterns of social ineptitude, betrayal, rejection, and mistrust that he built up as a child seemed to follow him into adulthood.
However, his external portrayal of these patterns as an adult differed vastly from his childhood display thereof, as he no longer employed isolating behaviours – in the presence of others at least. Instead, he fashioned a socially acceptable ruse to convince those around him that he was confident, refined, and highly appealing (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). It is important to note that Bundy’s proverbial “mask of sanity” did not equate to the instantaneous development of social skills (Cleckley, 1988, p. 1); he was merely mimicking appropriate interactional responses that he had repeatedly witnessed and memorised whilst growing up to compensate for his feelings of worthlessness. Sullivan (2009) expanded on the above:
While psychopaths have difficulties with relationships, they are more than willing to put on
their ‘mask’ to be charming or to demonstrate a sense of caring…they express feelings of
love and empathy without actually experiencing the associated feelings – simply words they
have learned from others that describe the appropriate feelings. Their words and actions do
not truly reflect their internal world (p. 285-286). 321
Although it is not clear what event caused this radical shift in Bundy’s interaction style, the researcher believes that it was partly due to the incessant reinforcement of his social incompetence and sense of rejection. The latter might have become so overwhelming to his psyche that he split off his patterns of withdrawal, and was left with idealistic images of what he wanted to be, which then informed the false bravado that manifested itself (Boeree, 2006).
Once at university, Bundy seemed to gain a certain degree of affirmation from his positive interactions with, and approval by others who engaged with his charming social persona. It is likely that this source of external recognition and acknowledgement exacerbated his use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism, as it ultimately enhanced his good or grandiose representations of the self, and made him appear successful and important (Caligor et al., 2007).
These grandiose patterns were particularly noticeable in his political exchanges, since he had the opportunity to rub shoulders with well-known governmental figures such as Art Fletcher, Nelson
Rockefeller, and Dan Evans (Dobbert, 2009). Bundy thus saw politics as an ideal avenue for him to gain a higher social status and financial success – something he had desired since boyhood
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Sullivan, 2009). During his interview with Michaud and
Aynesworth (2000), he marveled at the pleasures that the political arena offered him:
Politics gave me the opportunity to be close to people…to be socially involved with
them…as a consequence of working with them. You get very close. You drink each night –
and people sleep with each other. It’s a sort of built-in social life, which I never had. In my
younger years, I was, as I have said before, socially unskilled. That’s one characterisation,
and it rings true. But, politics gave me a lot. It gave me a direction and an education in many
things tangential to politics – things I needed to know. In politics, you can move between the 322
various strata of society. You can talk and mingle with people to whom otherwise you
would have absolutely no access (p. 25-26).
The researcher considers the above-mentioned an example of primitive idealisation, as Bundy’s frequent interactions with distinguished city council members served as reoccurring confirmation of his good internal object. Since he perceived these prominent political figures as the undisputed
‘crème de la crème’ of society, Bundy naturally experienced them as an extension of his good self. Hinshelwood (2004) described primitive idealisation as a “projective intrusion into
[idealised] others” (p. 72). This form of idealised projection essentially facilitates the individual in their unconscious attempt to separate themselves from their bad or negative self- representations (that is, splitting). Thus, their fragile ego state is protected from further destruction or harm by sharing in others’ superiority or success (Kernberg, 2004a). Zepf (2012) explained that, “the object is needed as a substitute for the individual’s damaged, or insufficiently developed ego-functions” (p. 49).
A similar, yet far more familiar example of the above was Bundy’s relationships with women. In terms of intimacy, Bundy’s ‘romantic’ dealings were superficial, volatile, and highly unpredictable (Dawson, 2015; Sullivan, 2009, Rule, 2013). Accordingly, his patterns of interaction would abruptly oscillate between idealisation and devaluation depending on whether the relationship satisfied his specific needs, or frustrated his desires (Kernberg, 2004a). Kernberg
(1985) delineated the latter by highlighting that one should not confuse the borderline individual’s ‘admiration’ for an object with real interest, care, or appreciation; their use of primitive idealisation is, in fact, only a self-serving initiative. The individual simply uses people to fulfill their need for protection against external objects that pose as a threat to their fragile ego state and good self-representations. Thus, the idealised object is more of a ‘possession’ or 323 extension of the self, which the individual may use to manipulate or exploit their environment
(Kernberg, 1985; Rosenfeld, 1964). The above-mentioned psychological process occurs due to the development of pathological object relations. Under these circumstances, the individual only has the capacity to assign “partial character traits” to others rather than experiencing them as fallible human beings who possess both character strengths and weaknesses (Hamilton, 1999;
Kernberg, 1969, p. 804). Bundy’s interactions are synonymous with the aforementioned description as his cognitive-affective responses were in constant flux. The researcher suspects that this continuous vacillation between idealisation and devaluation exacerbated the diffusion of his identity, and further impaired his ability to experience any real form of concern, guilt, or remorse towards others (Kernberg, 2004a).
This process of rapid alternation became exceedingly evident in Bundy’s relationship with
Brooks. Bundy described his initial encounter with her as “love at first sight” (Sullivan, 2009, p.
52). Apparently, she was everything he ever wanted in a woman (and for himself), as she came from an exceptionally wealthy Californian family, and was goal-directed, beautiful, smart, and sophisticated (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). Once he entered into a relationship with Brooks, many of his friends recalled that, “he showed her off like a possession” (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012, p. 68). He was especially proud of the fact that he now had a girlfriend
“who’d been raised in an atmosphere where money and prestige were taken for granted” (Rule,
2001, p. 13). In an attempt to remain close to Brooks, Bundy transferred to Stanford University in the summer of 1967 – only a few months after their first meeting. However, the move away from home seemed to reinforce his (concealed) representations of maladjustment that he built up as a child, as he struggled to adapt emotionally to his change of environment (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012). As a result, Bundy started to flounder academically, and inadvertently 324 exposed his psychological immaturity to Brooks. She terminated the relationship shortly after this discovery. She reasoned that although his youthful charm originally attracted her, his lack of overall maturity, direction, and ambition for a prosperous future eventually led her to believe that she deserved someone who could offer her a greater sense of emotional support and financial stability (Dawson, 2015; Rule, 2013). Bundy expressed his grievances regarding his breakup with Brooks to Dawson (2015):
I was very depressed over Stephanie rejecting me. It just confirmed all those old tapes, those
old echoes in my mind that I didn’t fit in…that I was less than and not part of the in-crowd.
She was the love of my life and she tossed me in the garbage. It was as if she ripped my guts
out. I was so goddamn depressed after she dumped me (p. 128 & 130).
The researcher suggests that Brooks’ withdrawal from their relationship intensified Bundy’s negative representations of rejection, humiliation, and abandonment to such an extent that he consciously, and intentionally chose to manipulate his ensuing interactions with Brooks in a malicious manner six years later. Despite the fact that Bundy was in a relationship with Kendall at that time, he asked Brooks’ hand in marriage. Seeing that he was now a ‘changed’ man with a respectable future in politics, Brooks accepted his proposal without a moment’s hesitation (Rule,
2013). However, two weeks after her acceptance of his marital proposal, Bundy abruptly broke off his relationship with Brooks in a similar fashion to her earlier rejection of him – acquiring his long-awaited retribution. He never contacted her again (Dawson, 2015; Dobbert, 2009). It is thus the researcher’s inference that although Bundy’s behaviour towards Brooks seemed to contain traces of projective identification, it was actually a deliberate and calculated tactic to exact revenge on Brooks for rebuffing him years earlier. This is because the act of vengeance implies a 325 premeditated set of plans or cognitions rather than an unconscious attempt to discharge threatening aspects of the self (Caligor et al., 2007).
By taking into account Bundy’s entire history with Brooks, one can clearly see the psychological shift that took place within his psyche pertaining to others. He seemed to move various individuals from a position of being idealised, to being persecuted through devaluation, and vice versa. It is likely that whilst pursuing Brooks, Bundy projected his idealistic self-image onto her to engage with himself in her. Thus, as an ideal object, Brooks not only served as an extension of Bundy’s idealistic self, but as a “recipient for omnipotent identification” (Kernberg,
1985, p. 30). This ultimately means that Bundy aggrandised Brooks with the sole purpose of sharing in her social status of wealth and class in order to gratify his own egotistical needs
(Kernberg, 1985). However, this interpersonal dynamic changed once Brooks called off the relationship with Bundy. As he could not experience her as someone who possessed good and bad qualities simultaneously, he devalued her unconditionally by calling her a “bitch” and a
“stuck up siren”, faking a marriage proposal to her, and permanently cutting her out of his life without notice (Dawson, 2015, p. 130 & 276). In keeping with the above, it is the researcher’s contention that Brooks confirmed Bundy’s negative representations of worthlessness, insecurity, and rejection when she broke up with him. Once this interaction triggered his ‘bad’ self- representations, and evoked psychological distress within his psyche, Bundy started to devalue her as an object by projecting these internal aspects of the self into her. By doing so, he was able to destroy his positive experience of her, and subsequently reconstruct her as a permanent persecutory object, that could never shift from that devalued position again. The reader may observe the same pattern of interaction in Bundy’s relationships with his various attorneys and counselors. As soon as they dismissed his demands in court (for his own good, and to save him 326 from the death penalty), Bundy would fire them, and replace them with a new defense team
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 1999).
Figure 26: A rare photograph of Bundy’s dream girl, Stephanie Brooks (n.d.). This image only surfaced almost three years after the researcher initiated her study. Throughout her analysis of Bundy’s dialogue and interaction patterns with women, the researcher also noted a pervasive theme of ambivalence. It was as if Bundy had a love-hate relationship with women; he wanted to destroy them (through psychological devaluation and physical violence), but he also wanted to love and be loved by them. His object relations towards women seemed quite conflicted since he craved a close connection with women, but was afraid of being rejected, or humiliated by them at the same time. Bundy’s interactions also hinted at a strong dependency on women, as he would instantly replace one girlfriend with another as soon 327 as the relationship went sour – he was never alone (Dawson, 2015; Sullivan 2009). The researcher partly attributes Bundy’s contradictory experiences of women to his mother. As previously deliberated, Bundy desired being close to her, yet harboured deep-seated feelings of resentment, frustration, anger, and humiliation towards his mother, as she initially abandoned him as an infant, and lied to him about his actual parentage (Rippo, 2007; Rule, 2009, 2013;
Vronsky, 2004). It is thus very likely that Bundy’s interactions with women in general triggered and reinforced these negative patterns he built up with his mother as a young child. To avoid the anxiety and distress that these representations automatically induced, he had to split them off and project them outward onto external objects. It is likely that Bundy linked closeness or intimacy with women, with control. This way, they could not reject or humiliate him, as he had the upper hand in the relationship. Dr. Carlisle (2013), a prison psychologist who performed a psychological assessment on Bundy in 1979, corroborated the researcher’s assertions through the following statement:
Mr. Bundy is a ‘private’ person who does not allow himself to become known very
intimately by others. When one tries to understand him, he becomes evasive. Outwardly, he
appears confident and reveals himself as a secure person. Underneath this veneer are fairly
strong feelings of insecurity. He has a strong need for structure and control, such as in his
interpersonal relationships and in controlling his own emotions. He becomes somewhat
threatened by people unless he feels he can structure the outcome of the relationship (p. 255-
256).
In keeping with the concept of control, it becomes all the more apparent why Bundy would feel the need to kill. It is possible that the repeated rejection and betrayal he experienced at the hands of the women whom he considered as ‘special’ evoked so much anxiety, frustration, bitterness, 328 and rage within his psyche that it could only be relieved by externalising and destroying the image he had of women. Thus, he could only get rid of the negative representations he held of women by physically killing them (that is, devaluation) (Kernberg, 1998, 2004b; Knight, 2006).
Lastly, the literature highlighted the fact that Bundy’s romantic relationships lacked exclusivity and depth. Although he demonstrated physical intimacy through sexual intercourse, his relationships were emotionally flat (Dawson, 2015). Kendall (1981) furthermore conveyed that she characterised her sexual experiences with him as rough, animalistic, and primitive – there was no real intimacy involved. Bundy’s serial infidelity, also leads one to think that his sexual encounters never measured up to the idealistic object images he had in mind (hence his continuous infidelity). Kernberg’s (1985) suppositions supported the abovementioned, as he stipulated that the constant use of idealisation as a defense mechanism generate unrealistic object representations within the individual.
Erikson (1959) succinctly summarised this section by linking the concept of identity to that of intimacy in relationships:
It is only after a reasonable sense of identity has been established that real intimacy with
others can be possible. The youth who is not sure of his or her identity shies away from
interpersonal intimacy, and can become, as an adult, isolated and lacking in [genuine]
spontaneity, warmth, or the real exchange of fellowship in relationship to others; but the
surer the person becomes of their self, the more intimacy is sought in the form of friendship,
leadership, love, and inspiration. The counterpart to intimacy is distantiation, which is the
readiness to repudiate those forces and people whose essence seems dangerous to one’s own
(p. 95). 329
An American crime story. Bundy’s criminal tendencies did not cease to exist once he entered adulthood. Instead, they became chronic and violent as time passed (Hinshaw, 1994;
Moffitt, 1993). Dawson (2015) described Bundy as demonstrating an extreme case of “criminal versatility” (p. 44), which according to Robert Hare’s Psychopathy Checklist, is a strong indicator for the development of, or diagnosis for Antisocial Personality Disorder (Hare, 2012).
One can thus understand why many authors characterised his felonious behaviours as having a
‘domino-like’ quality, as the cumulative effect of his transgressions eventually ended in the brutal slayings of innocent young women (which will be discussed separately) (Dawson, 2015,
Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009).
Besides abducting, sexually assaulting and murdering several women, Bundy also participated in a wide range of other illegal activities. These included burglary, grand theft auto, the unlawful acquisition and use of drugs such as valium and marijuana, identity fraud, larceny, and shoplifting (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, 2012). In his lengthy prison interviews with Michaud and Aynesworth (2000), he hinted at the fact that his thieving habits provided him with a sense of euphoria since he continuously evaded capture; he was proud of the fact that he got away with taking other people’s belongings without them noticing. Sullivan
(2009) validated Bundy’s sense of exhilaration through expressing that, “stealing was not only a means of financial support [for Bundy], but it provided him with the type of high, and adrenalin rush, which placed him in a category of his own” (p. 196). The researcher believes that Bundy’s undetected acts of theft made him feel as if he were invincible. It is thus likely that it strengthened his ineradicable belief of being superior and powerful, and gave him a sense of control over his external environment. This ultimately speaks to the repeated use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism, as his unlawful behaviour fueled his arrogance and grandiose self- 330 image (Kernberg, 1984; Vaknin, 2015). The latter makes sense if one considers Bundy’s poorly formed identity, and underlying perception of being an ‘outsider’ that did not fit in with any particular social group (Sullivan, 2009). Olsen and Hergenhahn (2010) explained that an individual who struggles with identity formation often immerse themselves in activities that go against mainstream beliefs, as it (at least) provides them with a negative identity rather than no identity at all. Erikson (1959) agreed with the latter statement, and added that, “If faced with identity diffusion, many a late adolescent or young adult would rather be somebody bad, or indeed dead…than be not-quite-somebody” (p. 132).
Another reason for Bundy’s partiality to theft was the goal of possession. He explained his materialistic ‘need’ to Michaud and Aynesworth (2000):
What I went for, were things that I couldn’t afford – expensive things… The big payoff for
me was actually possessing whatever it was I had stolen. It wasn’t the act necessarily. Apart
from that, I really enjoyed having something on my wall or sitting in my apartment that I
had wanted and had gone out and taken (p. 40-41).
The reasoning behind Bundy’s thievery seemed to spill over into his motive for murder – to possess. Yet, it was as if the unlawful attainment of material possessions eventually lost its appeal to him. He thus needed something – or in this case, someone – that could reignite, and stimulate his sense of excitement, hence his choice to abduct and murder women. It should, however, be noted that while the latter makes for a compelling argument and offers insight into
Bundy’s cognitions and personality development, it does not wholly explain his behaviour or why he murdered.
In keeping with the above, it is the researcher’s opinion that Bundy gave no forethought to the long-term consequences of his crime-related actions, but rather acted in an impulsive, self- 331 destructive manner (Tanay, 2013). His only care seemed to be the immediate gratification of his own needs, which once again points to ingrained patterns of entitlement and grandiosity.
Although he stole from people, he attached no feelings of guilt or remorse to his actions. Instead, he attempted to rationalise and justify his actions. Bundy articulated his nonchalant attitude towards his crimes: “The thought of burglary or anything criminal never crossed my mind. I felt no remorse whatsoever about taking something [I wanted] out of a store. I’d only take what I needed anyway – not that that makes any difference [to me]” (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p.
38). Nevertheless, Dawson (2015) cautioned that just because an individual lacks the ability to
“conceptualize the consequences of their actions”, or finds it difficult to ascribe the appropriate emotions to their behaviours (p. 285-286), it does not necessarily mean that they cannot distinguish right from wrong. Most of the time, they are simply indifferent to whether society thinks their acts are acceptable or immoral; as long as their needs are fulfilled, they are satisfied.
The researcher is confident in her belief that Bundy could discern right from wrong, as he grew up in a household that had strong affiliations with the Protestant church. Thus, Christianity was a daily practice in his childhood (Schechter, 2003). However, the overwhelming amount of evidence linked to Bundy’s various misconducts and atrocities, suggests that he did not internalise the values set out for him as a child (Capps, 2009; Erikson, 1977; Rule, 2013). Thus, he failed to “transform regulatory interactions with the environment into internal regulations and characteristics” (Schafer, 1968, p. 6). When the process of internalisation is defective, an individual’s ego boundaries fail to solidify effectively. This leads to the development of a fragile ego structure that hinders their overall degree of psychic integration (Christopher et al., 2001).
The consequence of unsuccessful integration translates to a persistent inability to differentiate between persecutory, realistic, and idealistic representations of the self and others (Clarkin et al., 332
2007; Kernberg, 1998). Through examining Bundy’s various narratives and behaviours, it appears that he could not consciously separate his realistic self from his idealistic self, hence his fixed sense of superiority and entitlement. This is troublesome, since it removed his psyche’s ability to produce friction between his realistic and idealistic self-representations – the very process that creates feelings of guilt (Kernberg, 1995, 1998). In instances where there is limited or no reintrojection of guilt, the individual’s superego remains immature, and subsequently generates a warped conglomeration of moral values and beliefs (Henriques, 2012). This essentially reinforces the individual’s dependence on external loci of control, as they did not internalise the value systems they acquired from their external environment. Thus, it never forms part of their identity (Kernberg, 2004b, 2009). This could explain why Bundy always blamed external objects or circumstances for his behaviour.
A God-like complex of entitlement and grandiosity. Throughout the previous sections of this chapter, the researcher has consistently provided the reader with several glimpses of Bundy’s use of grandiosity and entitlement in his interactions with others. For this reason, she has decided to focus this section specifically on the exchanges that took place between Bundy and the police, his dealings with the media and journalists, his communications with psychologists and psychiatrists, and his behaviour in the court of law. From the researcher’s standpoint, these subdivisions arguably demonstrate his pathological sense of egocentricity the best.
By August 1975, Bundy had murdered more than 20 women without drawing any attention to him from law enforcement. As he disposed of his victims remains in secluded areas across different states of America, it made it extremely difficult for police investigators and detectives to accumulate enough physical evidence to apprehend or convict Bundy of any criminal offenses
(Sullivan, 2009). This appeared to strengthen his belief that he was immune to detection and 333 capture, as he arrogantly informed Dawson (2015) of his uncanny ability to mislead police officers:
I felt impervious from detection. Not in a supernatural, mystical, or spiritual sense – of
course I wasn’t invisible. But, from my past experiences of kidnapping, murdering,
assaulting, and raping…it seemed that no matter how I fucked up, twisted, or rotated my
plans, I was invulnerable, exempt from being caught by cops (p. 186).
The above scenario is highly suggestive of the use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism. It seems as though Bundy’s sustained ability to evade arrest (at least for the first few years), bolstered his grandiose sense of self, and made him feel as if he was in full control of his actions.
He also perceived himself to be superior to law enforcement, as he called the officers assigned to his case “clumsy fools, buffoons, jokers, and bumbling idiots” (Dawson, 2015, p. 311). He truly believed that he had the upper hand during the entire investigation. Bundy’s latter choice of dialogue suggests that he also used devaluation as a means to enhance his good self- representations. By viewing investigators as persecutory objects, he was able to protect his fragile ego from further damage, and simultaneously project any self-perceptions with negative valence attached to them onto others (that is, law enforcement) (Kernberg, 1976).
Bundy’s ‘luck’ ended once a Utah detective named Jerry Thompson, connected Bundy and his VW Beetle to the kidnapping and assault of Carol Da Ronch that occurred two years earlier
(Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013; Sullivan, 2009). According to Dawson (2015),
Bundy’s arrest “set in motion a multi-jurisdictional police investigation”, however, his detainment did nothing to dampen his arrogant attitude. Instead, he approached the trial with the laidback demeanor of someone who did not have a care in the world; in fact, he was cheerful
(Tanay, 2013). Tanay (2013, as cited in Dawson, 2015) highlighted that Bundy was “guided 334 more by showmanship than prudence” (p. 299). His inner convictions of superiority and immunity seemed to fortify his belief that no amount of evidence would ever be enough to convict him of anything; he could simply talk his way out of any accusation thrown his way.
Guinn (2013) extended the latter inference by asserting that, “Ted viewed himself as different and higher in quality than that of the average person” (p. 8). Unfortunately, Bundy’s proverbial
‘gift of the gab’ did not hold up in court. Judge Stewart Hanson found him guilty of aggravated kidnapping and subsequently sentenced him to 15 years in prison with the possibility of parole.
Figure 27: Carol da Ronch testifying against Bundy in court (30 June 1976).
Shortly after the cessation of the Da Ronch trial, Bundy became a suspect in a number of unsolved homicides across various states of America. Consequently, he was extradited to Pitkin
County Courthouse in Aspen, Colorado where he faced several murder charges (Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2009; Schechter, 2003). Unsurprisingly, Bundy fired his lawyers, and demanded to represent himself in the Caryn Campbell murder case, as well as in the Florida murder trial regarding the homicides of two Chi Omega sorority sisters (Dawson, 2015). Judge 335
Lohr eventually granted him permission to be his own defense lawyer. Colorado detective, Mike
Fisher remembered this uncustomary incident all too well:
Ted was so proud of himself. He thought the entire courtroom was welling up in admiration
of his knowledge of the law, and his formidable oration in support of his arguments. It was
his stage. He was the lead actor, and he alone would decide what changes needed to take
place (Sullivan, 2009, p. 190).
Dawson (2015) added to Fisher’s testimony by recalling that Bundy treated his defense team as if they were his personal assistants. The latter once again verified Bundy’s repeated use of omnipotence as a defense mechanism, as he overestimated his ability to convince various juries of his innocence. Although he never completed his law degree, he still perceived himself to be more ‘qualified’ than the defense attorneys assigned to his cases. By assessing the literature available on narcissism and the role of omnipotence, it becomes clearer as to why Bundy behaved in such a conceited manner. Dziegielewski (2010) explained that an individual who possesses a borderline personality organisation generally relies on omnipotence in an attempt to bypass overwhelming feelings of anxiety or distress, and to protect their good object relations.
Thus, they unconsciously split off these negatively charged experiences of the self or external world, and replace it with acts of infallibility. The outcome of this is an individual whose perceptions regarding their limitations, shortcomings, or inadequacies, are extremely distorted and unrealistic (Vaknin, 2015). This type of “magical thinking” is observable in almost all of
Bundy’s behaviours – especially during his court appearances and Death Row interviews with various clinicians and journalists (Vaknin, 2015, p. 170). It is, however, important to note, that although the researcher refers to Bundy’s use of omnipotence as ‘acts’, omnipotence is not an 336 adopted affection. Rather, it is a deeply embedded internal belief that is permanently ingrained within their psyche (Kernberg, 1985; Vaknin, 2015).
During his trials, Bundy played to the cameras, and used every opportunity he could muster to convince the press of his innocence. He moreover seemed to use journalists as tools to relay his ‘victim’ status to anyone who was willing to listen, and dealt with clinicians with the sole purpose of stroking his own ego (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). Dr. Emanuel Tanay (2013, as cited in Dawson, 2015), a clinical professor of psychiatry who assessed Bundy’s competency to stand trial, validated the above assumptions:
Mr. Bundy was more involved with impressing me with his brilliance and his wit than to use
the services that had been arranged for him of an expert… [He] dealt with me as if I was a
reporter for Times magazine or some other publication. He certainly did not deal with me as
if I was a psychiatrist retained by the defense to assist in defending him when he was facing
a death sentence…He was not motivated by a need to help himself. He was motivated by the
need to be the star of the show. He was the producer of a play in which he was playing a big
role. The defense and his future were of secondary importance to him (p. 291, 292, & 302).
The researcher suggests that the aforementioned is indicative of omnipotent control, since Bundy unequivocally believed that he could influence or have a powerful effect on both journalists and psychiatric specialists – the idealised objects. He thus unconsciously attempted to control these idealised objects in order to manipulate and exploit them for personal gain by pretending to be ingratiating and courteous (Caligor et al., 2007; Baekeland, n.d.; Kernberg, 1985). In Bundy’s case, it appeared that his aim was either (1) to convince the jury that he was innocent of the murder charges held against him, or (2) to avoid the death penalty. 337
However, Hinshelwood (2004) and Holmes (2015) asserted that in instances where idealised objects do not conform to the borderline individual’s immediate demands or psychological needs, they are discarded, and cease to hold any value for the individual. This form of psychic oscillation corresponds with Bundy’s behaviour towards the psychiatrists commissioned to evaluate his mental state (for example Dr. Carlisle and Dr. Austin). Their eventual diagnoses of
Antisocial Personality Disorder and Narcissistic Personality Disorder did not sit well with
Bundy, as he immediately started to discredit their analyses by attacking their professional competency, and calling them degrading names:
Their diagnostic skills are pathetic, pitiful, and absurd… [Those] two-faced, mediocre
buffoons thought [they] could get slick with me so [they] could stab me in the back! Sock it
to me... Those two quacks couldn’t diagnose or find their way out of a plastic bag! (Dawson,
2015, p. 247, 255 & 258).
It appeared as though the various clinicians on Bundy’s case triggered his bad representations of
‘not fitting in’, as personality disorders generally hold negative connotations. This likely caused him to feel extremely anxious, as these diagnoses were not consistent with his idealistic self- image of perfection. He thus isolated these opposing affective experiences by splitting them off and projecting them onto external persecutory objects through devaluation (that is, Dr. Carlisle and Dr. Austin). Consequently, he could no longer perceive them as all good objects (Kernberg,
2004a, 2004b).
Throughout his court hearings, Bundy unequivocally maintained his innocence. He simply refused to plead guilty to any of the charges he was prosecuted for. The researcher is of the opinion that Bundy failed to take the guilty plea because it would subsequently decrease his time in the ‘spotlight’. He seemed to enjoy the notoriety that came with his prolonged court 338 proceedings, as the focus and attention was solely on him for the duration of the trial. If he did accept the guilty plea, he would just be another person “who was spared from the death sentence… and the show would be over” (Dawson, 2015, p. 296-297). On, July 31, 1978, the jury charged Bundy with the first-degree murder of Kimberly Leach, and subsequently sentenced him to death in 1980. Soon after, he received an additional two death sentences for the murders of Chi Omega sorority sisters, Margaret Bowman and Lisa Levy (Dawson, 2015; Michaud &
Aynesworth, 2012; Rule, 2013). One would imagine that the latter sentencings would cause
Bundy to relinquish his grandiose self-image, and accept his fate, but due to his diffuse identity, his capacity for adequate social reality testing was severely hampered (Clarkin et al., 2007).
Kernberg (2004a) moreover explained that an individual, whom is prone to splitting, would also demonstrate a “bland denial and lack of concern over the contradiction in his behaviour and internal experience” (p. 28).
Bundy’s patterns of grandiosity and entitlement continued during his stay of execution when he granted exclusive interviews to journalists and writers such as Michaud and Aynesworth,
Keppel and Dawson (Guinn, 2013). During these sessions, he provided them with valuable insights into the internal workings of a serial murderer, and went as far as to offer his
‘professional’ opinions of other ongoing homicide investigations (Dawson, 2015). The researcher suggests that these interviews fueled his need for admiration, and reinforced his use of omnipotence, as he perceived the interviewers and detectives as being reliant on his expertise.
The researcher moreover regards Bundy’s provision of information regarding the mind of a serial killer as an attempt to manipulate his “situation of impending death” (Dawson, 2015, p. 287). He may have reasoned that by helping investigators solve other crimes, they would overturn his 339 death sentence as an ‘act of appreciation’. By talking about the thoughts and action of a serial murderer, one could assume that Bundy also had the opportunity to relive the excitement that he experienced during his own murders.
Figure 28: Bundy during one of his numerous trials (n.d.).
Flipping the script: The denial of responsibility, the absence of guilt and remorse.
Throughout the literature on Bundy’s life, there has been no concrete evidence to prove that he ever experienced any form of guilt or remorse for sexually assaulting or murdering innocent young women and girls. He seemed to deny responsibility for any of his actions, and consistently attributed his sexually violent and sadistic behaviours to external factors that were beyond his 340 control (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). It was as if the gratification of his immediate sexual urges took complete precedence over the well-being or lives of others. Michaud and Aynesworth
(2000) aptly summarised the above by indicating that, “A long-term serial killer erects powerful barriers to his guilt, walls of denial that can sometimes never be reached” (p. 11).
Whenever detectives, psychologists, or journalists asked Bundy why he found it necessary to kill so many young women, he always blamed one of five things: (1) his addiction to hardcore pornography, (2) his dependence on alcohol and mood-altering drugs, (3) the ‘evil entity’ that resided within him, (4) his victims themselves, or (5) the ways of society. During his Death Row interviews with Dawson (2015), Bundy described pornography as the fuel that awakened his latent sexual desires. He argued that the more he watched pornography that highlighted the idea of brutality and violence against women, the more inclined he felt to relay his aberrant sexual fantasies to real life scenarios. He moreover explained that pornography played an immensely persuasive role in his eventual killing spree: “when I was a kid or a teenager, pornography snatched me out of my home – and pornography can reach out and snatch a kid out of any house today…I reached the jumping off point where I began to wonder if maybe actually doing it would give me that high which is beyond just looking, reading, or listening to it” (Dawson, 2015, p. 90 & 93). Besides pornography, Bundy also blamed his addiction to alcohol and mood altering drugs for eroding the restraints he had in place to prevent him from abducting, sexually assaulting, and murdering his victims (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). He detailed his experience of ‘substance induced murder’ to Dawson (2015):
I was boozing and smoking pot. Alcohol broke all those religious and moral restraints. What
drinking alcohol, drugs, and pornography exposure did was to break down my inhibitions.
Then pornography charged-up my fantasy life, and in combination with the alcohol and 341
drugs my inhibitions were ground down…Using too much alcohol and mood-altering drugs
[ultimately] shaped and molded my behaviour (p. 91 & 94).
Conveniently, Bundy’s favourite excuse regarding his murderous acts was ‘the entity’ that inhabited his psyche – a malevolent ‘force’ within him that compelled him to kill women.
Interestingly, these women all closely resembled Brooks. He explained his frequent encounters with ‘the entity’:
While I was committing the murders, I felt as if I was possessed by something cruel, vicious,
and alien. It led to the first wicked compulsion to rape and murder. Afterwards, I was more
or less satisfied – the fierce, atrocious entity pressure fades, abates, and dwindles. Then I’m
spent, that energy level regresses, retreats, and fundamentally I become myself again
(Dawson, 2015, p. 6-7).
Bundy even endeavored to blame his own victims for his murders. He reasoned that if they had not been walking alone on campus, or were stupid enough to accept a ride from a stranger, they deserved everything that came their way. He moreover argued that it was the victims’ own fault for enticing him with their appealing features. The following statement captures Bundy’s attempt at justifying the above:
Let me ask you…When are these hot babes on college campuses going to learn to take
precautions? Don’t go out at night without some friends [with you]! If these girls did not
enthusiastically cooperate in their own abductions, they wouldn’t end up being assaulted,
abducted, raped, and killed (Dawson, 2015, p. 355).
Sensing that nobody fell for his feeble explanations, Bundy’s last-ditch effort to vindicate his violence towards women was to blame society at large (Michaud & Aynesworth). The following 342 is an excerpt from Michaud and Aynesworth’s book titled, Ted Bundy: Conversations with a killer, where Bundy tries to shift the responsibility onto society’s response to crime:
The things that can be done to prevent persons from engaging in homicidal behaviour on a
massive scale are things which society has to correct on a massive scale…If society were
able to restrict or otherwise to eliminate the environmental stimuli that prove, or otherwise
create this kind of individual, or the [preferences] that contribute to his behaviour, then it
would go a long way towards eliminating that kind of behaviour…If you could find this kind
of environment, this kind of person would cease committing these kinds of crimes…What’s
happening, I think, is that modern society is testing our genetic materials to capacity…and
those who have certain weaknesses or predispositions – which would probably have not
manifested themselves in a less indulgent society- are being identified and thrust into
deviant action (p. 218-219, 257, & 283).
Figure 29: Bundy during his Death Row interview with Dr. James Dobson (1989). 343
Bundy’s various attempts at justifying why he raped and murdered so many young women, indicates an excessive use of denial as a defense mechanism, as he failed to recognise the obvious implications and consequences of his actions (Northoff et al., 2007). Thus, in an effort to protect his good object relations and fragile ego state, he split off and disregarded any facet of his internal or external world that he perceived as incongruent or potentially jeopardising to his positive self-representations (Caligor et al., 2007). Cramer (2007) concurred with Caligor by detailing that individuals who possess narcissistic or antisocial traits have a unconscious habit of misinterpreting, or completely overlooking any thoughts, feelings, or behaviours of the self (or others) that could potentially cause them to experience an overwhelming degree of distress. The latter often leads to inaccurate, exaggerated, or highly unrealistic perceptions pertaining to the anxiety-provoking event (Cramer, 2007; Upadhyay, 2017). There is a strong correlation between the aforementioned and Bundy’s supposed justifications. As Bundy had a very idealistic view of himself, labels such as ‘murderer’ or ‘psychopath’ would be incongruous to his self-concept, and thus cause him psychological stress. Thus, he would split off these threatening representations, and exclude them from his consciousness (Meyer et al., 2008).
Overall, Bundy’s failure to take responsibility for his brutal actions suggests that he did not feel guilty about them either. Instead of expressing remorse or empathy towards his slain victims and their families, he chose to rationalise, debate, and compartmentalise every facet of his behavioural repertoire (Keppel & Birnes, 2005; McClellan, 2006; Sullivan, 2009). Freud (1937) dubbed the latter as a classic case of cognitive distortion. According to Michaud and Aynesworth
(2000), Bundy wholeheartedly believed that under the right set of circumstances, he could murder any person of his choosing, as people disappeared every day – it was not a novel occurrence. For some reason he presumed that his victims’ disappearances, would remain 344 unnoticed, seeing as the earth was overpopulated anyway. He outlined his unrealistic cognitions to Dawson (2015): “What’s one less bimbo among billions of people? What’s one less person on the face of the earth? What difference will it make in a 100 years from now?” (p. 236). He furthermore argued that he could not comprehend why he should feel guilty, since he did not know his victims personally, and could not reverse their deaths (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000).
Bundy seemed to exhibit a real sense of confusion when Michaud and Aynesworth (2000) questioned him about his lack of guilt and remorse. He apparently found it absurd that the public still dwelled on his past actions, while he was solely focused on the here and now. He emphasised his views below:
I carry no burden, except being in prison. I’ve learned to live absolutely and completely and
totally in the [present]. I don’t worry, think, or concern myself with the past, or for that
matter, with the future…Whatever I’ve done in the, you know – the emotions of omissions
or commissions- doesn’t bother me…I don’t feel guilty for anything! I feel less guilty now
than I’ve felt in any time in my life – about anything…Guilt? It’s this mechanism we use to
control people. It’s an illusion. It’s a kind of social control mechanism – and its very
unhealthy. It does terrible things to our bodies. And there are much better ways to control
our behaviour than that, rather extraordinary use of guilt. It doesn’t solve anything…I don’t
think I need to feel guilty anymore because I’m doing what’s right, right now! I know I
don’t have to apologise to people for anything (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000, p. 32, 277, &
280-281).
The researcher proposes that Bundy’s inability to experience guilt was the result of a defective superego. As Bundy’s idealistic self and object representations were fused with his realistic self, his psyche did not comprise of a separate ego ideal to which he could aspire – in his 345 mind, he was already the embodiment of perfection. Due to this psychic dysfunction, the pressure placed on Bundy’s ego to act in a moral manner, was extremely limited. Consequently, he would have experienced very little – if any – guilt concerning his wrongdoings. The lack of tension between his ego and superego structures meant that he felt no shame or empathy for his acts. Instead, the merger of his ideal self and use of omnipotence, made him feel as if he was allowed to do anything he wanted, and behave in any way he wished, without facing any repercussions.
A triple threat: Possession, control, and objectification.
You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You’re looking into their eyes. A person in
that position is God! You then possess them, and they shall forever be a part of you. And the
grounds where you kill them or leave them become sacred to you, and you will always be
drawn back to them (Dawson, 2015, p. 229).
Bundy’s above statement indicates a deep-seated need to dominate and establish power over his victims. It seemed as if he desired all women – whether they were victims or not – to fulfill a submissive role within their relationships (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2000). The latter assumption points towards strongly ingrained patterns centered on possession and control within Bundy’s psyche. The researcher considers these patterns to be a product of the abandonment and worthlessness he experienced as a child, as well as the rejection he consistently seemed to receive throughout his youth and adulthood – especially from his mother and Brooks. In considering the accumulation of Bundy’s negative self-representations surrounding exclusion, incompetence, and humiliation, his reasons for desiring complete control over his victims becomes more accessible to the reader. By knocking his victims’ unconscious, and subsequently killing them, they could not humiliate, depreciate, or abandon him even if they wanted to. Their 346 incoherent state made it easy for Bundy to use them in any way he saw fit to satisfy his pressing sexual urges. Thus, he objectified them by psychologically characterising them as his
‘possessions’. He relayed the aforementioned to Michaud and Aynesworth (2000):
I think we see a point reached – slowly perhaps – where the control, the possession aspect,
came to include, within its demands, the necessity…for purposes of gratification – the
killing of the victim…perhaps it came to be seen that the ultimate possession was, in fact,
the taking of a life (p. 125).
It is the researcher’s contention that Bundy perceived his victims to be extensions of the self.
It was as if he continually oscillated between idealising his victims through omnipotent control, and devaluing them through physical acts of sadistic violence. This makes sense if one compares the above to his love-hate relationship with women and ambivalent attachment to his mother. As idealised objects, Bundy experienced his victims as his ‘property’, and as forming part of his grandiose self-image. Thus, he did not acknowledge them as separate, living, breathing human beings with their own thoughts, and feelings (Sierra, 2009). Baekeland (n.d.) substantiated the aforementioned through explaining that omnipotent control involves “…the phantasy that the source of everything that happens is oneself” and is embedded in the “non-recognition of the separate existence of others with a will of their own” (p. 1). Therefore, Bundy was controlling himself through his victims for his own personal gain (that is, to satiate his sexual desires, and to enhance his omnipotent self). By doing so, he could unconsciously protect himself from persecutory object representations (Kernberg, 2004a).
Unfortunately, Bundy also devalued his victims through rape, torture, strangulation, mutilation, decapitation, necrophilia, and cannibalism (Dawson, 2015; Michaud & Aynesworth,
2012; Sullivan). He also referred to them as “damaged goods” (Dawson, 2015, p. 163). The 347 researcher believes that these overly aggressive and perverted actions were Bundy’s attempt to symbolically and physically split off and destroy his negative object representations of rejection and humiliation. Within the women, he thus unconsciously sought to reclaim a sense of power through serial murder and being pathologically destructive (Knight, 2006). It should, however, be noted that Bundy’s acts of cannibalism, necrophilia, and dismemberment could be viewed from an omnipotent perspective as well. As previously stated, Bundy saw his victims as an extension of the self. Thus, by consuming his idealised victims’ flesh, or having sexual intercourse with their corpses, he could share in the experience of being ‘perfect’ and ‘part of them’ (Knight, 2006). This act of possession is also exhibited through Bundy’s acts of decapitation, as he perceived his victims’ heads to be physical reminders of his idealised self.
The researcher suggests that by taking his ‘souvenirs’ home, he experienced a heightened sense of ownership.
Knight (2006) highlighted that, “this two-pronged dynamic [that is, the oscillation between idealisation and devaluation] explains why individuals [who possess a borderline configuration] have shallow relationships with little intimacy” (p. 1195). This may be why Bundy found it so easy to depersonalise his victims:
The girls I killed were just symbols, images, and objects. I was looking for an idealised,
abstract woman – avoiding any personal connection…Reasonable facsimiles of women as a
class in the mythological sense – using them as objects…I didn’t want them to come across
as persons. They were my playthings, objects, a sexy [replica] of a female (Dawson, 2015, p.
186 & 210).
Sexuality and violence: A ‘deadly’ combination. Certain aspects of Bundy’s sexuality and aggressive nature have already been discussed in previous portions of the chapter. Thus, in order 348 to avoid repetition, the researcher will only focus on explanations detailing the degeneration of his sexually perverse and violent patterns as an adult.
Individuals who possess a relatively stable or healthy personality organisation generally present with a sufficient and appropriate ability to regulate their libidinal and aggressive drive derivatives throughout different facets of their lives. This is due to a well-rounded ego structure
(as a consequence of integration) that enables them to remain coherent during intrapersonal as well as interpersonal interactions (Clarkin et al., 2006; Kernberg & Caligor, 2005; Kernberg,
2004b). Thus, their overall expression of sexuality is not only modulated, but manifests in a socially acceptable manner. This means that ‘normal’ individuals succumb to their libidinal impulses with warmth, displays of physical affection (such as hugging, kissing, or holding hands), romantic gestures, and long-term emotional commitments towards their partner(s)
(Kernberg, 2004b). Similarly, they manifest their aggressive impulses through positive or constructive activities such as painting, poetry, or contact sports (that is, sublimation) (Freud,
2013). Unfortunately, the aforementioned qualities seemed to be absent in Bundy’s interactions, as his ideas pertaining to sexual intercourse were motivated by deplorable acts of violence that
“embodied the ultimate capacity for cruelty” (Knight, 2006, p. 1190). Although he regularly engaged in sexual acts with women, it was purely based on physicality rather than emotionality and connectedness (Dawson, 2015; Sullivan, 2009). The researcher posits that the latter stems from an overstated and disproportionate manifestation of libidinal and aggressive drives that were never repressed into his id (Kernberg, 1998). This unsuccessful transference of sexual urges and aggression denotes a lack of psychic integration and a severely stunted superego that was likely limited to the first layer of development (Kernberg, 2004a; Ronningstam, 2011). 349
Bundy displayed the above-mentioned in many of his sexual interactions with women whom he dated, as well as with the women whom he killed. His insatiable sex drive seemed to merge with his patterns of aggression to the point where he could no longer differentiate between the two. A good example of the aforementioned is Bundy’s long-term relations with Elizabeth
Kendall. Kendall (1981) recalled that her sexual relationship with Bundy became increasingly bizarre over the years. Apparently, Bundy developed a penchant for perverted types of sexual intercourse that involved bondage and sodomy (Rule, 2009). Although she initially allowed him to ‘test’ his fantasies on her, she refused to partake in such activities again, as he started to choke her during one such occasion (Kendall, 1981; Rule, 2009). This instance suggests that Bundy suffered from a paraphilic disorder known as sexual sadism, as he gained sexual arousal from inflicting pain on another human being (Keppel & Birnes, 2003; Mokros, 2018). One can also observe his sadistic tendencies in the handling of his victims, as he seemed to enjoy the pain, torment, and humiliation he caused them to experience. Whilst confessing to his crimes to
Dawson (2015) on Death Row, Bundy revealed how his acts of torture stimulated and exacerbated his distorted conception of sex:
When she (Georgeann Hawkins) came to, she was asking where she was and what this was
all about. She made the usual frightened pleas for me to spare her life…Her begging for her
life only added to my sexual excitement and brought a smile to my face…I hate to sound
cruel and sadistic, but I toyed with her…She pled and beseeched me to let her go free [but] I
couldn’t help but laugh at her…The more terrorized [my victims] got, the more it aroused
me sexually and got my mojo working…I [especially] get sexually aroused when the girl
exuberantly fights back (p. 165, 170, 195, & 368). 350
In keeping with the above, it is the researcher’s contention that Bundy related to women as part objects that enhanced his grandiose self-representations. By perceiving them as idealised objects that he could control or dominate (using omnipotent control), he could separate himself from any opposing affective experiences that would ‘contaminate’ or harm his good self-image, even in the face of rape and murder (Holmes, 2015; Kernberg, 1984). The latter makes sense if one considers the basic tenets of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory. An individual who encompasses a borderline personality organisation and displays narcissistic traits repeatedly engages with others to obtain “narcissistic supplies” (that is, admiration and acknowledgement of their superiority) (Knight, 2006, p. 1198). The state of the relationship is thus of little importance to them as long as they are able to reinforce their fragile ego. The latter is generally obtained through manipulation, exploitation, or in Bundy’s case, violent sexual activities and murder
(Kernberg, 1975). The fact that Bundy was able to possess his victims, gave him the sense of control that he felt craved throughout his life, and defended against his representations of social inadequacy, rejection, and low self-esteem that originated from “ineffective and dysfunctional preoedipal object relationships” (Knight, 2006, p. 1195). Freud (1929) succinctly summarised the above assertions:
In the blindest fury of destructiveness, we cannot fail to recognise that the satisfaction of the
instinct is accompanied by an extraordinary high degree of narcissistic enjoyment, owing to
its presenting the ego with fulfillment of the latter’s old wish of omnipotence (p. 21).
Bundy’s repeated murders of young women are also indicative of extreme rage, vengeance, and self-loathing, hence his outward projection of violence through bludgeoning his victims, and sexually assaulting them with inanimate objects (Michaud & Aynesworth, 2012). As previously stated, he continuously oscillated between states of idealisation and devaluation. The researcher 351 believes that most of Bundy’s underlying anger and intense fear of being abandoned or ridiculed stemmed from the patterns of rejection and betrayal he built up around his mother as a young boy. As she gave birth to him out of wedlock, it contributed to his inevitable label of ‘bastard’
(Rippo, 2007; Sullivan, 2009). She moreover left him at a home for unwed mothers for three months after his birth, and lied to him about his parentage by pretending to be his ‘older sister’
(Rule, 2009). Later, when Brooks called off their relationship, it was as if Bundy reached his breaking point (Dawson, 2015). This event may have triggered Bundy’s negative representations of worthlessness and rejection, and caused him to feel extremely traumatised. Thus, in order to do away with his intolerable and overwhelming experience of anxiety, he projected his deep- seated rage outwards onto young women that looked similar to Brooks. It is, however, important to note that Brooks was not necessarily the cause of Bundy’s patterns of aggression and anger, she was merely the catalyst that set into motion his killing spree. As a consequence of the above,
Bundy used sex as a “vehicle for his homicidal rage and aggression”, and was unconsciously destroying the image of his persecutory mother (Kernberg, 1974, 1986; Knight, 2006, p. 1199).
Knight (2006) referred to this as displaced matricide (p. 1200). It is thus possible that Bundy perceived his victims as symbols, which represent the bad objects of his mother and Brooks.
Therefore, in order to protect his good self-representations, he needed to kill off these symbols before they had a chance to harm his ego any further. Through his aggressive acts of rape, murder, mutilation, and necrophilia, he could also achieve a sense of retribution.
Conclusion
This chapter provided a systematic review and validation of serial murder through applying the general characteristics of a serial killer to Bundy. The researcher then presented a conceptual outline of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory to ensure that the reader has adequate 352 clarity pertaining to the fundamental underpinnings of her research study. A detailed portrayal of
Bundy’s infancy and early childhood was subsequently provided to assess how his relationships with his primary caregivers, in combination with environmental and genetic factors, influenced the initial formation of his personality structure. This was followed by an in-depth discussion of the prominent interactional patterns that Bundy manifested during his middle childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. The latter findings moreover highlighted the defense mechanisms that he employed as a consequence of his unique combination of object relations.
The following chapter will discuss the conclusions, limitations, and recommendations concerning this study.
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CHAPTER 7
CONCLUSIONS, LIMITATIONS, AND RECOMMENDATIONS
Not every end is a goal. The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not
reached its end it would not have reached its goal either (Nietzsche, 1999, p. 642).
Chapter Preview
The current – and final – chapter presents the reader with a conclusory synopsis of the entire research study. This includes a brief recapitulation of the primary aim and objectives of the research, as well as an evaluation into the limitations of the current study. The researcher moreover provides recommendations for future research that falls within the same genre as her own. The value of this study is subsequently highlighted.
A Psychobiographical Recapitulation of the Primary Research Aim and Objectives
Human beings are, by nature, biographically orientated. Without a thorough analysis of an individual’s life experiences, one can never fully comprehend their unique personality composition, and consequent behavioural repertoire (McAdams, 1996; Polkinghorne, 1995,
2004). Thus, the essence of an individual’s character can only be ascertained through considering all of the significant events that transpired within their lifetime; this moreover includes the detailed and systematic application of their distinct social and historical contexts (Allport, 1961;
Polkinghorne, 1995). Through integrating their life experiences into an internalised self- narrative, individuals give their existence meaning. These individually fashioned chronicles also facilitate researchers in their pursuit of analysing their chosen subject’s character makeup, as they are able to evaluate their thoughts, feelings, and actions through first-hand accounts (Elms,
1994; Polkinghorne, 1995). This is generally done through the execution of a psychobiography. 354
Essentially, psychobiographical research studies are a form of applied psychoanalysis that generates a psychological profile of a person under investigation. The rationale is thus to produce a mental construction of the individual whilst exploring their personality traits, drives, motives, ideas, fears, and opinions to determine their place in the world (Baxter & Jack, 2008; Coltrera,
1981). As a result, an in-depth understanding and novel perspective of the research subject can be attained (Schultz, 2005b).
The primary aim of this study was to explore and describe the life of Ted Bundy within the framework of Otto Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory in order to develop a relevant psychobiography. The intention of this was to generate a comprehensive understanding of
Bundy’s psychological structure and personality development to yield new or supplementary insights into why he committed repeated homicides. By doing so, the findings of the study could be generalised to major aspects of Kernberg’s theory, rather than to a larger population (Schultz,
2005b). Yin (2009) described the latter as the process of analytical generalisation. A secondary objective of the study was to evaluate the overall utility and applicability of Kernberg’s theory to
Bundy’s personality development by examining his use of defense mechanism throughout his life. The attainment of this objective could not only validate, supplement, or alter existing personality theories, but could promote the use of Kernberg’s theoretical perspectives within the realm of psychobiographical research.
In order to achieve the aims and objectives of the study, the researcher posed the following questions to herself:
(1) “How is Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory conceptualised and operationalised
throughout the study?” 355
(2) “What is the dialogue between the extracted data and the content of the [developmental]
personality theory applied in this study?”
(3) “To what extent do Kernberg’s primitive defense mechanisms promote the development
of personality pathology within an individual such as Bundy?”
To answer these questions, the researcher firstly provided a detailed description of the psychobiographical research design. Subsequently, a chronological portrayal of Bundy’s life was constructed, which detailed the salient life events that affected his personality development and overall functioning within his particular socio-historical context. This was followed by an extensive conceptualisation of Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory to provide the reader with a thorough understanding of personality development and its associated pathology.
Together, the abovementioned facilitated the researcher to interpret and apply Bundy’s unique circumstances to Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory. A succinct summary of the researcher’s overall conclusions is presented below.
Conclusory Remarks
In considering the study as a whole, the researcher concluded that Bundy was an ideal candidate for this specific research topic, as he displayed pathological behaviour patterns and immature defense mechanisms throughout his life. These interaction patterns and defenses coincided considerably with Kernberg’s borderline personality organisation. This is because his use of primitive defense mechanisms were chronic and pervasive, and manifested during almost all of his interactions from a very young age. The latter moreover equates to the presence of a diffuse or fragmented identity and a weak superego, which are also marked signs of possessing a lower-level borderline personality configuration, or a more ‘severe’ level of character pathology (Kernberg,
1985). This furthermore explains how he could repeatedly murder innocent young women without 356 feeling guilty or remorseful, since the lack of adequate ego boundaries and superego integration in his psyche caused him to split off and project any threatening or anxiety-provoking aspect of the self into an external object (hence the denial of responsibility) (Kernberg, 1967; Reich, 1953).
From the above, it becomes clear that Bundy only perceived others as part-objects or extensions of the self. Thus, in his mind, they could not hold good and bad qualities simultaneously. As a result, he was unable to feel empathy for objects in their totality (Kernberg, 1985). This lack of empathy seemed to be reinforced through the objectification of his victims.
The researcher moreover concluded that Bundy’s personality pathology and diffuse identity stemmed from his reoccurring experience of abandonment and rejection throughout his life, which ultimately left him feeling very insecure, envious, resentful, and angry. These ‘traumatic’ experiences likely caused him to build up an overwhelming amount of negative representations, which prompted his chronic use of primitive defense mechanisms to safe guard his ‘good’ or idealised self-representations. The aforementioned accounts for Bundy’s ingrained sense of grandiosity and omnipotence. As lower-level character pathology is related to impulse control issues (be it libidinal or aggressive), it is easy to understand why Bundy felt the need to combine sex and violence whilst murdering his victims.
Limitations of the Study and Recommendations for Future Research
Every research study, no matter the topic, or how skillfully and rigorously it was constructed and performed, comes with its own unique set of limitations. It is the task of researchers to acknowledge these shortcomings, in order to ensure new ways to breach these parameters for future analyses, and to create further opportunities for critical thinking. This is especially true for psychobiographical studies that have yet to leave a lasting (and positive) impression on South
African universities, research establishments, and other academic institutions (Fouché & Van 357
Niekerk, 2010). The following section considers the limitations regarding the current study, and offers recommendations in terms of how to improve on, or overcome them where possible.
As a relatively ‘new’ genre of study, much has been done to promote and communicate the utility of psychobiographical research studies – particularly in South African tertiary institutes where humanistic domains of enquiry are recognised and appreciated. While the researcher was fortunate enough to have completed her psychobiography in one of the few psychology departments who have continuously advocated its significance (that is, Nelson Mandela
University), she feels that there is an ever-present disparity between the faculty’s teachings regarding the amalgamation of an individual’s life events, and the development of personality pathology. This disconnect in formal coursework has failed to provide many prospective researchers (including herself) with the appropriate knowledge and skillsets to produce noteworthy psychobiographical studies from the outset, as it does not form part of the syllabus at undergraduate or graduate level training (Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010; Muchena et al., 2015;
Ponterotto, 2015, 2017). The latter seems to prolong the research process, as many scholars initially fail to realise the intensity of such qualitative explorations, and struggle to comprehend the fundamental task of merging biographical information with psychological theories. Thus, they overestimate their research abilities, and ‘bite off more than they can chew’. It is for this reason that the researcher recommends the inclusion of a subject focusing solely on psychobiographical pedagogy within the curriculum, as it will ensure increased sensitisation and understanding amongst students who would like to further their studies and/or career in academia
(Fouché & Van Niekerk, 2010).
358
According to Ponterotto (2017), the latter will:
Facilitate the crystallisation of learners’ professional identities;
Contribute to their knowledge of psychological theories in an applied manner;
Encourage multidisciplinary learning opportunities and enhance ethical cognizance;
Improve their development of their clinical skillset; and
Promote methodological diversity.
Due to the scope and nature of the current study, the generalisation of the researcher’s
findings on Bundy’s personality development is limited to the various aspects of Kernberg’s
(1966) Object Relations Theory. Thus, the results cannot be extended to broader populations
even if it appears to be universally applicable to certain groups of individuals (for example,
serial killers). Rather, they remain theoretical hypotheses that primarily serve to initiate new
studies, or build on existing literature. As a result, a reasonable amount of restriction involving
the researcher’s interpretations of Bundy’s behavioural repertoire is to be expected. The
application of a single case design as a customary prescription to psychobiographical studies
exacerbates the latter limitation. This is because one cannot produce causal inferences based on a
single unit of analysis. An alternative or opposing explanation of the researcher’s findings is
therefore always a possibility, as insights into whether a subject’s cognitions and actions reflect
those of similar entities are, to a large extent, unknown (Barbour, 2014; Simon & Goes, 2013).
Consequently, the findings of this particular study may come across as relatively subjective,
since the researcher’s interpretations originated as a response to Bundy’s distinctive character
makeup and thematic narratives that emerged throughout his life. To curb the above-mentioned
constraints, a certain degree of neutrality needs to be injected into psychobiographical studies.
The only way to achieve this is through repetition. Thus, the researcher recommends that 359 additional studies be done on individuals who possess borderline configurations – especially in instances where they display marked signs of Cluster B personality disorders (such as
Narcissistic Personality Disorder and Antisocial Personality Disorder) that manifest in a destructive or malignant manner. This will not only facilitate a deeper, multilayered understanding of complex character disturbances, but will also allow for comparative studies that aim to identify the similarities and differences that transpire in the lives of serial murderers (for example, their attachment style, childhood upbringing, employment history, and traumatic life events).
The permanent absence of the research subject may also inspire critique. As Bundy died in
1989, the researcher was unable to conduct personal interviews with him. Thus, she had no way to actually observe and assess his facial expressions, body language, choice of diction, mode of reasoning, and range of emotional responses to certain questions before his execution.
Consequently, the researcher had to approach her study retrospectively, and primarily rely on secondary biographical sources to describe and interpret Bundy’s life and actions. The only primary source of information available on him was his prison and Death Row interviews where he spoke directly to journalists, detectives, psychologists, and psychiatrists. However, these lengthy conversations never really constituted any explanatory aspects in terms of his personality development, or the psychology behind his murderous behaviours; in fact, it was rather vague, repetitive, and reductionistic. The writings on Bundy were also predominantly antagonistic. The collection of literature on him only seemed interested in portraying him as an inhumane
‘monster’, and disregarded any faculty of his life that could potentially be indicative of ‘normal’ psychic development. This ultimately limited the researcher’s ability to include positive or influential examples of him in her study. In an attempt to minimise the latter, the researcher 360 employed data triangulation as a method for establishing the validity of her sources. This way, she could at least eliminate information that seemed incongruent, misleading, or misreported
(Willig, 2001). A second recommendation relates to the implementation of face-to-face interviews with a research subject. Although the researcher recognises that psychobiographical studies generally adhere to specifications that require the analysis of a deceased personality
(Anderson, 1981), it would be interesting to see whether (and how) direct communication with a subject would alter the outcome of the research findings.
While the researcher has previously reviewed Kernberg’s (1966) Object Relations Theory in
Chapter 4, she reserved some of her critique for this specific segment of her study, as it directly relates to her personal experience of his ideology. The limited amount of conceptual analyses available on Kernberg’s work is disconcerting. Apart from Sandison’s (2018) case study analysis of Howard Hughes, the application of his theoretical suppositions has essentially remained dormant on all research platforms. This is highly unusual, as many reputable researchers (for example, Carsky & Ellman, 1985, Christopher et al., 2001, and Klein & Tribich, 1981) have labeled his work as innovative, superlative, and far-reaching. However, without practical guidelines or examples to follow, the researcher found it very challenging to understand
Kernberg’s work, as it is exceedingly complex, detailed, and multidimensional. If not for extensive preparation and a sustained effort, she would by no means have fully grasped his distinctive use of technical jargon either. The aforementioned poses a relatively large challenge, as one cannot manipulate an established theory to suite your personal preferences, or choice of research topic. Nonetheless, the researcher recommends the proactive exposure of Kernberg’s conceptions in academic establishments through psychology-based lectures and seminars by experts on the theory. This will not only reduce the intimidating connotation attached to 361
Kernberg’s writings, but may potentially stimulate a renewed interest in using his theory for future research.
Besides the above-mentioned limitations, there were also some additional uncertainties surrounding the researcher’s psychobiographical subject. Despite being an excellent candidate for analysis, particularly in the fields of personality psychopathology and forensic psychology,
Bundy’s intricate personality organisation and manipulative demeanor may have influenced the reliability of his statements. This would essentially mean that the researcher’s interpretations of him could also be skewed. It is thus crucial that prospective researchers who are interested in examining atypical characters recognise the significance of scrutinising their subject’s accounts of themselves, others, or external events, with caution.
The Value of the Study
The integration of biographical information and psychological theory prompts the development of holistically orientated studies that capture the essence of human experience in relation to personality development. As a unique and comprehensive method of enquiry, psychobiographical studies present future researchers with indispensable opportunities to enhance, challenge, or expand on existing literature, and may even encourage them to formulate new studies that have yet to be explored. Psychobiographies thus have the ability to contribute to the body of knowledge in psychology, while also touching on other disciplines that might influence the analysis of a particular subject. The aforementioned made it possible for the researcher to acquire an all-encompassing view of Bundy, as she could include various facets of his life in her attempt to understand his personality composition (for example, social, economic, historic, and familial factors). She moreover believes that her research study was able to shed light on difficult aspects of Kernberg’s Object Relations Theory by applying it to an actual case. 362
Thus, it gave his theoretical suppositions a practical frame of reference. As a result, this research study has the capacity to initiate and enhance discussions surrounding developmental psychopathology.
The researcher hopes that her study, in combination with future studies focusing on similar cases, could benefit academic personnel and practicing clinicians, and persuade professionals employed within the police force, correctional services, or judicial domains, to view the actions of dangerous perpetrators from a different perspective. This is not to say that the researcher condones behaviours such as rape or murder, or proposes lighter sentences. She merely believes that a renewed awareness concerning personality development and its relations to abnormal, malicious, or violent types of behaviours, could aid in the modification of treatment plans for such individuals – be it in mental institutions or in prison. The researcher moreover believes that her study could potentially contribute to the development of new criteria regarding the early identification of individuals who are likely to harm themselves or others in the future. The acquisition of such criteria may also stimulate the formulation or improvement of preventative measures, so that high-risk individuals can receive the correct forms of psychological intervention before their behaviour escalates. Altogether, this could encourage the formation of new criminal profiles, and prompt the development of additional serial murder typologies, which may broaden forensic and investigative psychology fields.
Conclusion
This chapter presented a succinct evaluation pertaining to the unique set of limitations demonstrated throughout this study. Recommendations to prevent or overcome these shortcomings were subsequently provided in order to enhance the quality of future studies that fall within the same or comparable research categories. The significance of the study was 363 moreover highlighted. It is felt that that the overall aim and accompanying objectives of the study were successfully achieved, as the researcher carefully (and systematically) explored and described the personality development of Theodore Robert Bundy within Kernberg’s (1966)
Object Relations Theory, to the best of her abilities. It is thus hoped that the reader will benefit from this study through gaining a rounded understanding of Bundy’s personality, as well as the causal factors that contributed towards his shocking crimes.
364
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APPENDIX A
Diagnostic Criteria for Cluster B Personality Disorders Generally Associated with Serial
Murderers
Antisocial Personality Disorder
Diagnostic Criteria 301.7 (F60.2)
A. A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15, as indicated by three (or more) of the following:
1. Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviours, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. 2. Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure. 3. Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead. 4. Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults. 5. Reckless disregard for safety of self or others. 6. Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behaviour or honour financial obligations. 7. Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalising having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another.
B. The individual is at least age 18 years. C. There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset age 15 years. D. The occurrence of antisocial behaviour is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.
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Borderline Personality Disorder
Diagnostic Criteria 301.83 (F60.3)
A pervasive pattern of instability of interpersonal relationships, self-image, and affects, and marked impulsivity, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
1. Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. (Note: Do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behaviour covered in Criterion 5). 2. A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterised by alternating between extremes of idealisation and devaluation. 3. Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self. 4. Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g. spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating). (Note: Do not include suicidal or self- mutilating behaviour covered in Criterion 5). 5. Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behaviour. 6. Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g. intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days). 7. Chronic feelings of emptiness. 8. Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g. frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights). 9. Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.
B. The individual is at least age 18 years. C. There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset age 15 years. D. The occurrence of antisocial behaviour is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.
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Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Diagnostic Criteria 301.81 (F60.81)
A pervasive pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy or behaviour), need for admiration, and lack of empathy, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:
1. Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g. exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognised as superior without commensurate achievements). 2. Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love. 3. Believes that he or she is “special” and unique and can only be understood by, or should only associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions). 4. Requires excessive admiration. 5. Has a sense of entitlement (i.e. unreasonable expectations of especially favourable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations). 6. Is interpersonally exploitative (i.e. takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends). 7. Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognise or identify with the feelings and needs of others. 8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her. 9. Shows arrogant, haughty behaviours or attitudes.
B. The individual is at least age 18 years. C. There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset age 15 years. D. The occurrence of antisocial behaviour is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.
(American Psychiatric Association. [2013, p. 659-670]. Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders [5th ed.]. Arlington, VA: Author).
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APPENDIX B
Reflexive Analysis: Researcher’s Journal Entries
The following inscriptions summarise the researcher’s personal thoughts and feelings regarding
Theodore Robert Bundy as a psychobiographical subject.
20 April 2017
Today I started accumulating and reading material on Ted Bundy. It’s quite an exhilarating task in the sense that I’ve always wanted to delve into the mysteries behind what really makes a serial killer tick. In my mind, I like to think of myself as a self-professed ‘serial killer enthusiast’ – a sinister interest at best, but nonetheless for academic purposes. Seeing as there is no agreed upon pathological profile or formal diagnostic criteria attributed to serial murderers, I thought I’d take a shot at deciphering their inexorably malicious range of behaviours (within the limits of theory, of course).
As I began reading, I was primarily fascinated by Bundy’s apparent normality. To me, it was quite unnerving to think that someone who steered so far from what is labelled as ‘conventional’ in society, had the ability to fabricate such a convincing, likeable façade in front of others. The thought that someone could portray the perfect picture of sanity while simultaneously raping, torturing, and killing innocent young women, left me feeling quite apprehensive and uncomfortable. How am I supposed to trust anyone when Bundy managed to fool nearly everyone he met? Who knows how many dangerous individuals I have unwittingly crossed paths with in my life! In my eyes, Bundy was literally the juxtaposition of horror and humanity – and I was apparently lucky to be alive.
422
27 April 2017
After approximately a week’s worth of reviewing materials regarding Ted Bundy’s childhood and adolescent years, I seemed to feel even more baffled than when I originally started my analysis of him. My internal dialogue repeatedly reverted to the same types of questions: What sets Bundy apart from other individuals who also suffered some form of childhood trauma? If two individuals grew up in the same distressing environment, and encountered the exact same maltreatment from parental figures, why does the one rise above their circumstances and the other decide to murder? After much deliberation, I could only conclude that the answer lies in personality variation and secondary relationships with persons outside of the immediate household (in combination with primary caregiver relationships, naturally). I felt quite accomplished by this realisation, as my research focused on precisely that – personality construction and its affiliation to the development of relationships with others.
My feelings of uncertainty and ambiguity, however, did not stop there. I was struggling to discern whether I should feel sorry for Bundy due to the repeated hardships and rejection he experienced, or whether I should be appalled by his choice of actions that transpired as a result of those experiences. In all honesty, I think I felt a combination of both. My mind battled to separate the two. Maybe I should’ve just stuck to feeling remorseful towards his victims.
6 May 2017
This week, I concentrated on Ted Bundy’s victims and his ever-developing modus operandi.
What bothered me most was not that he killed these young women, but the fact that I could detach myself from the extremely violent manner in which he committed these murders. My emotional response towards reading about how he sexually assaulted, strangled, and killed these women, seemed to diminish over time. The more I read of his gruesome deeds, the more 423 desensitised and immune I became to his victims’ suffering. I reckoned that this was my brain’s way of safeguarding me against becoming traumatised myself, but I felt quite anxious about it. I kept wondering if my reaction to Bundy’s murderous endeavours was normal and appropriate for the situation I found myself in. I know the criteria for psychopathy off by heart, and I didn’t want to be classified as being unremorseful and apathetic. That would equate me to Bundy, and I wasn’t planning on accepting that explanation any time soon.
Following some contemplation, I realised that your typical individuals’ likelihood of being subjected to the wrath of a serial murderer is minimal – almost zero. It’s the stuff you only witness in fictional horror movies. I personally think that most of us have the tendency to separate serial killers’ horrific actions from reality. We depersonalise them so that we, unconsciously, feel that we are safe in this world, that we can trust those around us. Perhaps, I am also just a ‘victim’ to this type of mentality. That, and the fact that I was repeatedly exposed to negative stimuli, which would eventually lead to a weakened emotional response.
14 May 2017
Against my better judgment, I actually felt quite impressed by Ted Bundy’s crafty ability to escape from prison, not once, but TWICE! As I was reviewing his trials, convictions, and appeals, I couldn’t help but admire his spirited attempts at talking his way out of captivity by representing himself in court. It was ballsy, but in my opinion, utterly foolish and irrational. It was the first time that I truly understood what it meant to label someone as ‘a narcissist’. The term is flung around way too easily these days. To me, Bundy personified narcissism. He’s grandiosity and unflinching sense of infallibility was shocking. It was also somewhere around this time that my uncertainty regarding whether to feel sorry for him disappeared in its entirety. I didn’t feel animosity towards him, per se. My heart just didn’t bleed for him anymore. Nobody 424 deserves to experience psychological or physical depravity, especially during childhood, but it does not justify killing anyone, in my opinion. Bundy probably felt different about the matter. I guess perspective is everything.
I am, however, quite disappointed that he was sentenced to death and executed via electric chair. Most people would undoubtedly beg to differ, but from a psychological point of view, I believe that we could have gained invaluable insights from him regarding the phenomenon of serial murder – as long as he wasn’t granted parole of course.
425
APPENDIX C
Detailed Record of Injuries Sustained by Bundy’s Florida Victims
The following appendage specifies the brutal injuries incurred by Bundy’s Florida victims.
According to Rule (2009), pathologist Dr. Thomas P. Wood, who had been in practice for over
16 years, had never witnessed a case laden with such violence and cruelty. He described the victims’ injuries as denoting pure “rage, hate, and animalistic mutilation” (p. 343). The researcher paid special attention to the physical trauma suffered by the Florida victims, as
Bundy’s other victims’ remains were either severely decomposed by the time they were located, or are still missing to this day. She chose to include the subsequent information because she found it necessary to emphasise the magnitude of Bundy’s crimes. This moreover facilitates the reader in terms of attaching meaning to the words frequently used to explain Bundy’s behaviour throughout the narrative (for example, ‘violent’, ‘sadistic’, and ‘brutal’).
Cheryl Thomas Skull fractured in five places
Broken jaw
Dislocation of left shoulder
Extensive damage to the eighth cranial nerve resulting in permanent hearing loss in left ear,
and reduced equilibrium (loss of balance)
Karen Chandler Severe concussion
Broken jaw
Dental avulsion (that is, knocked out teeth due to trauma)
Facial bone fractures
Facial lacerations 426
Fractured phalanges (finger bones)
Kathy Kleiner Jaw broken in three places – permanent metal pins attached to mandible and maxilla (lower
and upper jaw)
Whiplash injury to the neck
Deep lacerations on shoulder
Dental avulsion resulting in permanent loosening of all lower teeth
Lisa Levy Broken right collar bone
Tearing and bruising of rectal orifice and vaginal vault due to forceful penetration with
inanimate object
Hemorrhaging in lining of womb and other internal organs
Fractured skull
Intracranial and intracerebral hemorrhaging (Bleeding inside the skull and within the brain)
Deep ligature marks around neck due to strangulation
Bleeding from ears, mouth, and nose
Bite marks on buttocks
Torn off nipple
Margaret Bowman Depressed skull fractures that protruded into brain tissue – splintering was so severe that
pathologists could not identify where one fracture ended and the next began
Deep ligature marks around neck due to strangulation – pantyhose buried into flesh
Bleeding from ears, mouth, and nose
Tearing and bruising of vaginal tissue due to forceful penile penetration 427
APPENDIX D
A Summarised Description of Kernberg’s Primitive Defense Mechanisms
Primitive Defense Mechanisms Type of Mechanism Description Function
To protect the individual’s The separation and isolation of opposing affective idealised or ‘good’ self from Splitting experiences activated in an individual’s internal contamination or destruction world. by the persecutory or ‘bad’ self. The discharge of unmanageable or intolerable To externalise negative or
Primary Defenses Primary Projective identification (perceived) qualities of the self into an external threatening representations of object to alleviate anxiety and distress. the self
The ineradicable belief of being exceptionally To enhance the good or Omnipotence important, superior, powerful, intelligent, or grandiose sense of self. desirable to external objects in all spheres of life. The tendency to perceive external objects as wholly good or perfect. The external object is To enhance the good or Primitive idealisation experienced as an extension (and confirmation) of grandiose sense of self. the good self.
Defenses An inner conviction of having absolute power or To enhance the good or Omnipotent control control over an idealised object. The object is grandiose sense of self. manipulated or exploited for personal gain. The opposite of idealisation. The disproportionate To externalise negative or
Secondary Secondary Devaluation ascription of negative or undesirable qualities to a threatening representations of persecuted object. the self. An individual’s bland disregard of any facet of To externalise negative or Denial their internal or external world that is perceived as threatening representations of being incongruent or jeopardising to the self. the self. 428
Note: Adapted from Caligor et al. (2007). Handbook of dynamic psychotherapy for higher level personality pathology. Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Publishing; Hinshelwood, R.D. (2004). Suffering insanity: Psychoanalytic essays on psychosis. Hove, East Sussex: Brunner-Routledge; Holmes, P. (2015). The inner world outside: Object relations theory and psychodrama. New York, NY: Routledge; Kernberg, O.F. (1984). Object-relations theory and clinical psychoanalysis. North-Vale, NJ: Jason Aronson; Kernberg, O.F. (1985). Borderline conditions and pathological narcissism. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers; Vaknin, S. (2015). Malignant self-love: Narcissism revisited. Retrieved from http://samvak.tripod.com/personalitydisorders21.html