Donald Trump’s Dark Tetrad

A while ago I posted the transcript of a video by Lucas Bean about how Donald Trump became the monster that he is. This video dives deeper into the man’s personality traits, and goes a long way to explaining why he acts the way he does. The transcription is mine, there may be errors but if they exist, they are minor. For a clear picture of what Trump is and how he got that way, it would be instructive to watch both of these videos together, or read both posts.

You can watch the original video here: https://www.facebook.com/reel/2456629481475440

Transcript:

I’ve been wondering for years why the Trump cult attracts the cruelest people in the country, so I decided to do some research on dark personality psychology to understand what’s actually going on here.

He mocked a disabled reporter on live tv and the cult loved it. He called for violence at his rallies and his followers cheered for it. Federal agents attacked non-violent people in the streets and his base defended it, and said they should have just complied.

This isn’t a political movement; this is a cult enjoying the suffering.

In 2013, researchers at the University of British Columbia, identified a specific cluster of dark personality traits that explain who gets drawn to hateful movements like this. They called it “the dark tetrad,” four dark personality profiles that love to watch people suffer. And when you map these four traits onto the Trump cult, everything that looked insane starts to make sense.

Trump didn’t accidentally attract these people, he built something specifically designed for these people.

Here are the four dark psychological traits that make up the Trump cult:

1: Narcissism

Trump supporters see themselves in Trump. He says what they think, he hates who they hate, he fights the people they’ve always wanted to see humiliated. So when you tell his followers that he’s a liar, they don’t hear facts, they hear an attack on themselves.

Psychologist Otto Kernberg at Cornell University spent decades studying why certain people can never admit they are wrong. He called it narcissism. Narcissism is the belief that you’re better than everyone else built on a lifetime of feeling insecure. The majority of narcissists were created by authoritarian parenting and abusive households, a home where being wrong was punished, where showing weakness was dangerous, where the only safe move was to comply, perform, and never question the person in charge.

That defense mechanism doesn’t turn off when they grow up, it just finds a new authority figure to organize itself under. The narcissistic brain doesn’t process criticism the way a normal brain does. Criticism isn’t information, it’s an attack on their entire identity. The brain registers criticism the same way it registers physical danger. Narcissists do no self-reflect, they retaliate and the longer they stay in the cult, the more they have to lose. Admitting Trump is a fraud means admitting they destroyed relationships and wasted years for nothing. The brain will do anything to avoid that pain. They destroy every relationship in their life defending a man who doesn’t even know their name and never will.

Trump knows exactly who these people are. He just put up a 22-foot gold statue of himself at a Miami golf club, he’s putting his face on the US passport, he’s building a 250-foot gold arch in Washington, D.C. He’s not governing the country, he’s performing for the people who need someone to worship. He didn’t create their narcissism, he just knew exactly how to feed it. And once a narcissist decides you are the enemy they will burn everything down before they admit that they were wrong.

2: Machiavellianism

Trump lies consistently and openly. His supporters know this and they love him more for it, because for them lying isn’t a character flaw, it’s proof that he’s smarter than everyone else who’s trying to stop him.

In 1970, psychologists Richard Christie and Florence Guise at Columbia University identified a personality type built entirely around manipulation and power and they called it Machiavellianism, the belief that the world is a game of power and the only real morality is winning that great game at all costs. Machiavellian fathers create Machiavellian children, homes filled with harsh punishment, emotionally cold parenting, and early exposure to manipulation. When a child grows up where trust is weakness and power is the only currency that matters, the brain adapts. It learns that the world is a game and the only way to survive is to play it better than everyone else, no matter whom it hurts.

People wired this way don’t see manipulation as wrong, they see it as intelligence. They see honesty as weakness. Facts don’t fit the game they are playing, power does… and in the game the only move that matters is loyalty to whomever is winning, so they don’t question him and Trump makes them feel like loyalty is power. He calls them patriots. He said they figured out what everyone else is too weak to admit. That feeling of being on the inside is exactly how the manipulation works. You can’t see the con when  you think you’re in on the con.

When you believe that everyone is playing an angle, you can never trust anyone – not your friends, not your family, not even the man you gave your vote to. These people will spend their entire lives being manipulated by the one person they thought they finally understood. He took their money through fake foundations and worthless degrees. He called them “the forgotten Americans” and then forgot about them. The second the rally was over, they gave him their vote; he gave their tax cuts to billionaires, their healthcare to lobbyists, and their jobs to the same system he promised to destroy.

3: Psychopathy

His supporters see the same news everyone else sees; they hear the same stories, they watch the same footage, and they don’t care. They feel nothing. Psychologist Robert Hare at the University of British Columbia spent decades studying people who felt nothing for other people; he called it psychopathy, the complete absence of empathy for anyone outside their group. Children who experience severe neglect, abuse, or chaos early in life show the same neurological abnormalities as an adult diagnosed with psychopathy. Their empathy doesn’t disappear, it gets deactivated as a survival mechanism.

In a normal brain, when you see someone suffering a signal fires. It’s automatic and it’s involuntary. That signal is what makes cruelty feel wrong. In a psychopath brain, the signal is absent. Other people’s pain produces no internal response, so there’s nothing to overcome, nothing to rationalize. The suffering of strangers is simply neutral information to them. What fills the void in these people is dominance. The psychopathic brain does not ask who is right, it asks who is winning, and whoever is winning gets their total loyalty, no questions, and no guilt. That’s why a psychopath can watch a child get taken from its mother at the border and call it a deterrent.

Trump tries to act like the most powerful person in the room every single day, and to a psychopath that’s all they need to see to follow him forever, or until his perceived power wears off. When you can’t feel other’s pain, you also can’t feel your own pain. These people aren’t just indifferent to the suffering they cause, they’re cut off from the full experience of being human, and Trump knows exactly how to aim that emptiness at everyone he needs them to hate. They’re not making a mistake about him, they know exactly who he is: he’s the most powerful person in the room and he hates the same people they hate. That’s not a political opinion, that’s a personality built for cruelty, and Trump built his entire cult just for them.

4: Everyday sadism

Trump supporters don’t cheer for policy, they cheer when other people feel pain. They cheered when Trump mocked a disabled reporter, they cheered when families were separated at the border, they cheered when Trump talked about roughing up protesters, they cheered when Trump talked about putting his enemies in prison. The crowd isn’t cheering despite the cruelty, they’re cheering because of the cruelty.

In 2013, psychologists Aaron Buckles and Delroy Police identified a fourth dark trait which expanded which expanded the Dark Triad into the Dark Tetrad. They called it “everyday sadism.” Everyday sadism is the enjoyment of causing pain or humiliation to others. Sound familiar? The research on its origin is thinner than the other three traits; what we know is that it shares genetic roots with psychopathy and shows up early in childhood.

Whether they were born with the cruelty or the cruelty was modeled by their parents, the results are the same. They have a brain that finds pleasure in what other people find horrific, and when the cruelty escalates, they don’t look away – they cheer louder for it. Buckles and Pollis also found that everyday sadism is the single strongest predictor of internet trolling. These aren’t people who enjoy arguing online; they actively hunt for victims and enjoy every second of it.

Now, look at what a Trump rally actually is. It’s not a policy event, it’s two hours of watching people get mocked, threatened, and humiliated while a crowd cheers. That’s the product. That’s what they paid to see. Everyday sadism is the one trait that predicts willingness to work for the opportunity to hurt someone – not just when it’s easy, to put in actual effort for the chance to hurt someone. When cruelty is the only thing that makes you feel powerful, you need more of it to feel the same effect every time. The targets have to get more vulnerable. The humiliation has to get more public. The suffering has to escalate, and it always does. That’s not a political movement, that’s an addiction, and Trump knows exactly what they came for.

This is what the Dark Tetrad looks like when it finds a political home. Four personality traits built by abuse, drawn to cruelty, and organized around a man who delivers it on demand. They are a fringe minority of broken and damaged people, and the only reason they feel powerful is because they found a man willing to weaponize their cruelty. They think they have permission to be cruel, to be hateful, and they think that they’re going to get away with it. They are wrong.

Trump didn’t build a political movement, he built an angry rage-filled mob of cruel people, and he has been feeding that mob every single day since.


Many people display one or more of these traits, but watching Donald Trump as president and considering his past actions as a real-estate developer and otherwise failed businessman, it’s easy to see how he admirably displays a toxic combination of all four characteristics of the Dark Tetrad.

I have known cruel people in my life, both in school and at work, and they are most unpleasant to be around. There is no reasoning with them. If you show any weakness at all, you’re just opening yourself up for even greater abuse because they see you as an easy target and they will zoom in for the kill. The only way to stop a bully is to make sure that the price they pay for their depredations is higher than the satisfaction they get from tormenting you. Turning the other cheek does nothing, Informing authorities does nothing. A hard sock in the nose or a solid kick in the hoodie-doodies is usually enough to make them back off and find easier targets for their cruelty.

Sadly for America, Trump has never experienced personal consequences for his cruelty, surrounding himself as he does with a cadre of purchased attorneys willing to make sure that he always avoids significant blowback.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

L.S./M.F.T (Like Strike Means a Facebook Touch-up)

In the last couple of days, two individuals have written about experiments that they conducted at Facebook.

Mat Honan, at Wired, wrote about what happened to his Facebook feed when he “liked” absolutely everything he saw for two days.

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At the same time, Elan Morgan was conducting a similar experiment… by not liking anything at all, and when she saw Honan’s post, was inspired to write about her experience.

Facebook

Before you go on, I recommend you read both articles in their entirety. There are some good thoughts in each, addressing more than the facebook issue. I will quote this, from Schmutzie’s blog post:

The first thing I noticed was how difficult it was to not like things on Facebook. As I scrolled through updates, my finger instinctively gravitated towards the Like button on hundreds of posts and comments. It has become a gut-level, Pavlovian response. I saw updates I liked or wanted others to know I liked, and I found myself almost unconsciously clicking my approval.

The Like is the wordless nod of support in a loud room. It’s the easiest of yesses, I-agrees, and me-toos. I actually felt pangs of guilt over not liking some updates, as though the absence of my particular Like would translate as a disapproval or a withholding of affection. I felt as though my ability to communicate had been somehow hobbled. The Like function has saved me so much comment-typing over the years that I likely could have written a very quippy, War-and-Peace-length novel by now.

I have experienced much the same thing myself. Clicking that “like” button has become addictive, similar to the upvote/downvote arrows over at reddit. Both these articles made me think over the nature of my participation at Facebook.

A side note: my feed is full of other things, of course – lots of promotion from people running businesses, lots of politics, and – it goes without saying – lots of kittens and Pinterest shares. But, it is worth mentioning, no advertisements – I use FB Purity, which cleans up my Facebook feed in a way that makes it tolerable to use and much less noisy and chaotic. Social Fixer accomplishes the same thing. If you’re not using one of these, I highly recommend checking them out.

As for myself, I use Facebook to share things that are important to me; ideas, feelings, issues that I feel deserve attention, and to keep in touch with those people in my life who help me move forward. The “like” button has been a quick way of exchanging “strokes,” a concept introduced by transactional analysis and defined as “a unit of recognition.” As people, we need these strokes. Those who don’t get them on a regular basis end up feeling alone and isolated; even those who are introverted by nature and prefer solitude to social interaction need this kind of recognition and contrive to get it in other ways that serve them best, including self-stroking.¹

Mr. Honan noticed that by liking everything, he disovered that

“My News Feed took on an entirely new character in a surprisingly short amount of time. After checking in and liking a bunch of stuff over the course of an hour, there were no human beings in my feed anymore. It became about brands and messaging, rather than humans with messages.”

Contrariwise, Schmutzie (Elan Morgan’s alternate pseudonym) discovered that refusing to like anything and posting meaningful comments instead resulted in the exact opposite:

“Now that I am commenting more on Facebook and not clicking Like on anything at all, my feed has relaxed and become more conversational. It’s like all the shouty attention-getters were ushered out of the room as soon as I stopped incidentally asking for those kinds of updates by using the Like function. I have not seen a single repugnant image of animal torture, been exposed to much political wingnuttery, or continued to drown under the influx of über-cuteness that liking kitten posters can bring on. (I can’t quit the kittens.)”

Yeah, I enjoy the kittens, too. But what a contrast! By not using the “Like” button, one effectively short-circuits Facebooks ad-targeting algorithm and allows a more human environment to prevail.

I can’t tell you how much I like this concept… but I’m not going to click the button.

The Old Wolf has spoken.


¹That’s not what I meant and you know it. Get your mind out of the gutter.

False memory syndrome

I recently came across a fascinating article entitled “The Reykjavik Confessions: The mystery of why six people admitted roles in two murders – when they couldn’t remember anything about the crimes.” One of my facebook friends described this piece thusly:

“If you like Nordic noir, it doesn’t come much more Nordic or more noir than this. But it turns out to be a story of what interrogations can do to people, and why they may end up admitting to crimes they never committed.”

This article resonated strongly with me, due to two experiences in the days of my youth. I still think of them with discomfort.

Polygraph simpson

When I first moved out West from the East Coast, I stayed with my grandmother before starting university. My family knew I was interested in collecting coins; at some point a keychain which featured a Morgan dollar went missing from an aunt’s house and I was immediately accused of having taken it. The pressure from family members was so intense that I, at the tender and callow age of 19 actually began to wonder if I had committed a crime and suppressed the memory. Despite my sincere protestations, my grandmother used every possible emotional club in her arsenal, and she had heavy weaponry, to get me to confess to having taken this trinket. Naturally, I knew nothing about it. Some time later, the item in question turned up in the pocket of a nail apron used by my uncle (who by this time had passed away.) My aunt was profuse in her apologies, but my grandmother never even mentioned it again, going to her grave with the idea that I was still somehow guilty of a crime that had never been committed; nary the hint of acknowledgement or apology.

The second tale involved my work for a restaurant several years later. I was working for a concern run by a partnership of two gentlemen (term used very loosely, mind you.) Despite being in a management position I was never entrusted with any financial responsibility or authority, but at some point it was announced that some money had gone missing from a safe in the restaurant (and at no time was I ever privy to the combination thereof.) I was told that everyone on the staff was being asked to take a lie detector test at the local police station. Despite the fact that this was a blatant lie, as I found out later – I was the only one who ever had to go down – I remember the experience with such distaste that it has remained with me forever after. I was “interviewed” by a lieutenant of the local police force; I’m tempted to mention his name because he was an asshole, but he’s dead now and de mortuis nil nisi bonum and all that.

I got asked all sorts of embarrassing, probing questions, many of which had nothing to do with the event they were investigating. There is no more unsettling feeling than to sit and be told that you’re a criminal, and that they know you’re a criminal, and that they’re going to find the truth no matter what it takes… when you know for certain that you are innocent and uninvolved. At the end of the procedure, Lieutenant Douchebag told me that my results were “highly deceptive,” and I went away wondering if I was going to be thrown in the clink for something I had neither done nor even ever considered. But I got a small taste of what it must be like to be interrogated in this way; I cannot imagine the emotional distress felt by the people in the above-mentioned article. A lot of them were clearly petty criminals, but they didn’t deserve to have their lives scarred and/or ruined for something they never did.

Relevant: Do Lie Detectors Work?

The lie detector can be considered a modern variant of the old technique of trial by ordeal. A suspected witch was thrown into a raging river on the premise that if she floated she was harnessing demonic powers.

The takeaway for me is that it is far too easy to put people in a situation where they feel vulnerable and powerless, and hammer away at them until they begin to doubt things they know for certain and accept things that they know nothing about. I suspect that with training, one could inoculate oneself against such techniques to a certain extent, but really, what’s the payoff for the average person who will not find themselves in such a position? Whatever the case, it’s disturbing.

The Old Wolf has spoken. Maybe.

 

Something Smells Rotten in Denmark… Oh Wait, it’s Danish Pastry

(Cross-posted from Livejournal entry of Oct. 12th, 2010)

♬ The sense of sight
Is what guides us right
When we go out on walks.
The sense of smell’s
The way you tell
That you need to change your socks. ♬
-Animaniacs, “The Senses”

Smell and taste are funny things. As anyone familiar with my Banquet from Hell could tell you, one man’s sweet savour is another woman’s “Jayzus Bejayzus Keep It Away!”

A lot of it’s chemical. How this molecule fits into that olfactory receptor or that taste bud. And how it all works is beyond me, given that some living creatures have noses jillionty-three times more sensitive than ours.

But it’s not all chemical. A lot of it goes on in our minds.

A case in point. One day in several years ago I walked into our bedroom, which we were keeping closed as we try to maintain it cooler than the rest of the house; at that time my mother, go ndéanai Día trocaire uirthi, was living with us, and at 94 she liked a warmer environment. I said to myself, “It smells like cat’s piss in here.” Impossible – while we now have three cats, at the time we had none, and we had been in the home for a month and a half. I racked my brain trying to figure out what was smelling so bad – it was making me ill.

And then it struck me. We had two large basil plants in the windowsill, and they were getting the benefit of full Southern exposure. The room was filled with the odor of basil. And I love basil. And as soon as my mind had identified the odor, it no longer smelled like cat pee, or repulsive in any way. Same molecules. Same smell. Just a different frame of reference, and my room smelled like an herb garden.

158442_1000
Pesto waiting to happen

Would it be possible to re-frame one’s mindset so that evil humours are less offensive? Butyric acid is found in puke, but it’s also found in many cheeses. Nobody appreciates a technicolor yawn in public, but if you happen to be an honest to goodness turophile, the smell of a good, authentic European cheese shop is like unto ambrosia, and the smells are astonishingly familiar.

Mind you, some things are not worth the experiment. One of the last times I drove across the country in the spring, I passed through miles and miles of the most fragrant apple orchards in bloom that I have ever seen, followed by the most pungent – and literally lung-searing – stockyards I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. I don’t think I’d like to hang around and see if I could learn to appreciate that evil miasma.

Still, it was an interesting subject to think about. And now I’m craving a portion of gamalost.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Fuchsia, Mauve, Puce, and Teal: Ain’t nobody got time for that.

… Well, at least not if you’re a guy. That’s the conventional wisdom, right?

IMG_0554

So, conventional wisdom would dictate that if you’re a guy, you’ll score very poorly on this test:

Color1

Try it if you’re curious – it’s an interesting experiment.

I expected to fail miserably; my wife is always telling me I can’t tell the difference between red, maroon, magenta, and… what was the name of that color?

Well, as it turns out, I’m on the very high end of the perception scale. Here’s what I managed to do:

Color2

My score was 8 – the lower your score, the better you did. The highest (worst) score for my gender and age range was 1970.

Color3

And this chart shows where my weaknesses lie:

Color2a

So in terms of actually being able to see differences in colors, my skills are relatively good. However, in terms of being able to name them, I think that I probably fall squarely into my wife’s expectations. Except for a few odd colors, like fuchsia,

gorgeous-fuchsia-plant.small

which I happen to know because I love this particular plant, I don’t have a lot of names for colors that you don’t see in the office.

There’s not only some psychology at work here, but also some linguistic theory. The languages of some simple cultures, such as Dani, only distinguish two colors: mili for cool/dark hues such as blue, green, and black, and mola for warm/light colors such as red, yellow, and white. Now, that doesn’t mean the Dani peoples can’t see these colors, but only that they don’t have specific words for them. The sky might be “sky mili”, grass might be “soft mili,” etc.

The first color to actually break out as languages increase in sophistication is red, followed by a green/blue (grue) blend, followed by the separation of grue into green and blue. There’s a whole spectrum. One could draw some rather rude conclusions about the relative sophistication of the male brain, but I think that socially, it’s more a case of need and experience. Guys don’t need to know what color that mammoth is to bring it down; as long as you can describe the jerseys of opposing football teams, you’re golden. Ladies, on the other hand… well, you would never wear a mauve top with teal shoes, now would you? These things are important.

The Old Wolf has spoken.