The Ultimate Criminal Lie
: Why 'Mental Illness' Is Their Manipulation Masterpiece!
The clang of cell doors and the sterile whiff of institutional linoleum are often the first senses assaulted when one considers the criminal justice system. But what if the very framework designed to understand and rehabilitate those behind bars is fundamentally flawed, mistaking a deep-seated pathology for a treatable illness? Dr Stanton E. Samenow, in his unvarnished expose, Inside the Criminal Mind, rips back the curtain on this insidious deception, positing a brutal truth: for many, "mental illness" is not the cause of criminality, but a convenient smokescreen, a strategic ploy wielded by minds bent on self-gratification and control.
Samenow's central argument is an uncomfortable one, challenging the comfortable narratives we've built around criminal behaviour. It's a brutal exposé of how well-intentioned systems, often limited by understanding or swayed by the criminal's guile, inadvertently perpetuate a cycle of deceit, obscuring the true nature of dangerous individuals. It is, frankly, a hard pill to swallow for those who champion therapeutic intervention above all else. But as we shall see, the evidence, painstakingly gathered over decades, speaks a different, far grittier language.
Consider the unsettling saga of Clay, a man whose life reads like a diagnostic merry-go-round, a carousel of psychiatric labels spinning wildly out of control. Samenow chronicles a "tumultuous four-year relationship" with Clay, a 32-year-old burglar whose existence, despite the unwavering support of his parents and the relentless efforts of mental health professionals, remained a terrifying testament to his "difficult to manage and dangerous" nature.
Clay’s upbringing, a tale painfully familiar to anyone who’s peered into the abyss of antisocial behaviour, began with a "strong-willed" nature that warped parental requests into full-blown "battlegrounds." Teenage drug use segued into violent rages, leaving behind holes in walls and physically battered parents. His intelligence and creativity, rather than being channels for good, were drowned in disorganisation and a categorical refusal to "follow through on any project." Jobs, fleeting and ephemeral, ended abruptly, victims of his "irritable, intimidating, and generally resistant" temperament.
His medical records, a "walking textbook of psychopathology," became an encyclopaedia of despair: anxiety, schizophrenia, paranoid tendencies, schizoaffective disorder. With each new diagnosis, a new prescription, a new hope – nearly two dozen medications in total. Yet, Samenow, granted the rare privilege of extended observation, saw through the diagnostic fog. He discerned that Clay's destructive conduct flowed not from an uncontrollable illness, but from "deliberate choices." Clay, as Samenow bluntly puts it, was a "manipulator," consistently seeking avenues to evade accountability and exert control.
Clay's diagnostic journey, a chaotic muddle of medical opinion, serves as a stark warning:
17: "Anxiety Reaction, Passive Dependent Personality." Discharged against medical advice.
Three Years Later: "Schizophrenia, Paranoid Type." Recommended long-term hospitalisation "for his own protection." Never materialised.
Subsequent Admissions: A fresh constellation of labels: "Acute Undifferentiated Schizophrenia," "Borderline Personality Organization," "Chronic Undifferentiated," "Acute Depressive Reaction, Inadequate Personality Disorder," "Major Depression Recurrent," and finally "Character Disorder, Rule Out Passive/Dependent." Each instance punctuated by his abrupt departure "against medical advice," often after a convenient denial of previously claimed suicidal ideations.
Samenow's initial interviews with Clay cut through the dross. "I've always been difficult to live with. There are times I choose to be selfish," Clay confessed, an immediate repudiation of uncontrollable illness in favour of conscious choice. His "nearly lifelong pattern of destructive and illegal behavior" – theft, forgery, arson, drug dealing, animal abuse, assault, even the chilling revelation of "sexual arousal at physical contact with the child of a girlfriend" – paints a vivid, terrifying portrait of a criminal mind fully operational. His occasional suicidal contemplations, it turned out, were less a genuine death wish and more a fear of the "hereafter," a cynical calculation. His assertion that "ideas that I manufacture become real" was not psychosis, but the arrogant conviction that "people were to do whatever he wanted."
The Criminal’s "Emotional Roller Coaster": A Deliberate Ride
Clay's "extremes of patterns"—the abrupt abandonment of jobs or treatments born of boredom or perceived slight—are, according to Samenow, classic criminal traits. His contempt for traditional therapeutic settings, dismissed as "bullshit" or "frivolous waste of time," stemmed from a disdain for anything that failed to serve his immediate need for self-gratification or control. His "ex-fiancée," genuinely "frightened about extricating herself from their relationship" after an attack during one of Clay's rages, bore witness to a deeply ingrained pattern of abuse.
Clay’s constant "boredom," a ceaseless craving that propelled him to seek "something illegal," is not symptomatic of depression. It is, Samenow argues, the very engine of the criminal mind. The pendulum swing from "unbridled optimism and a sense of invulnerability" to "unmitigated pessimism and despair" is not indicative of bipolar disorder. Instead, it represents the profound distress experienced when his "unrealistic expectations go unfulfilled." As Samenow asserts, "The oscillation does not signify the presence of a mental illness... The highs and lows stem from the criminal's inflated sense of importance and his intense distress when his unrealistic expectations go unfulfilled."
Learning to Pounce: Confronting the "Errors in Thinking"
Samenow's work with Clay veered sharply from conventional therapy. There was no validation of "feelings," no deep dive into past trauma. Instead, it was a rigorous confrontation of his "errors in thinking" and the stark "potentially harsh outcome" of those thoughts. Clay slowly, painfully, learned to "mentally pounce on criminal thinking, considering its potentially harsh outcome, then deterring it." He acknowledged thoughts of "having sex with little kids" and savoured ideas of "torturing and killing 'that smart-ass punk.'" In a flicker of clarity, he confessed, "It's been a lifetime of making bad choices."
Clay's progress, slow and infuriatingly erratic, was marked by holding a job for "more than a year"—a monumental departure from his previous three dozen in a decade. It was about "persever[ing]" through the grinding tedium of ordinary life. His greatest struggle was embracing the mundane, accepting the identity of an "ordinary person." Only when faced with the stark choice—"crime and its inevitable consequences, suicide, or change"—did he, under immense external pressure, begin the arduous journey of transformation. Samenow unequivocally states that "no pill and no traditional form of treatment" can address the "core of the criminal personality." It demands a "dedicated, trained, synchronized team" relentlessly focused on rooting out these fundamental "errors in thinking."
The Myth of the "Out of Character" Crime
"It is impossible to commit a crime that is out of character," Samenow declares, pulling the rug out from under another comforting delusion. Bernard Madoff's "heinous offenses," seemingly at odds with his "fine reputation," were merely the public unveiling of a man already "an adulterer, a prevaricator, and sexual harasser." What often appears as a sudden "snap" or a "crime of passion" is, in Samenow's analysis, the inevitable culmination of a "long series of threats or assaults that were hushed up or disregarded by the family." The individual's true character, often painstakingly concealed even from intimates, finally bursts forth into the public consciousness.
The tragic case of Adam Lanza, the Sandy Hook shooter, serves as a chilling example. A decade before his massacre, Lanza was already scribbling fantastical tales of "Granny" threatening to shoot children and meticulously crafting "The Big Book of Granny," a grotesque compendium of violence. Nicholas, a rapist with stellar "character references," was later revealed to have spent years composing "detailed, graphic sexual scenes," fantasising "cruelty and violence." Stella, the seemingly "devoted" daughter who shocked her family with shoplifting, had been at it "for years" undetected. The "out of character" crime, then, is merely the public catching up to the private, deeply ingrained reality of a criminal personality.
"Senseless" Crimes: Boredom as the Blunt Instrument
The seemingly "senseless" murders, such as the Australian student killed in Oklahoma by assailants who claimed "boredom," are, for Samenow, perfectly rational criminal acts. "Crime is an antidote to boredom," he asserts. The perverse "thrill of doing what is forbidden" fuels these acts. Thomas, a fellow Samenow subject, consumed by an fascination with serial killers, revelled in "ruining a relationship on purpose, breaking people down, picking on them, putting them in situations where they'd get rejected, reminding them they're a piece of shit." His life, Samenow concludes, literally revolved around crime; it was "the oxygen of his life."
"Impulse Disorder" Crimes: Calculation, Not Compulsion
Samenow deftly dismantles the comforting fictions of "kleptomania" or "pyromania" as irresistible impulses. These are not uncontrollable urges, but a "calculating and proficient method of operating." The thief "habitually scans the environment to take advantage of opportunities," adapting his pilfering to specific conditions. The arsonist meticulously "chooses the time and place to set a fire," taking elaborate "precautions to avoid detection." The true motivators are the "delight in the chase" and the "enormous power over human life and property." Such individuals are "very much in control of what he does." The claim of an "irresistible inner force" is merely a strategic tactic to be "evaluated as not responsible." They're not driven by an unbidden demon; they're simply being clever bastards.
Insanity: A Criminal's Scheme
The "insanity defense," often perceived as a lifeline for the truly deranged, is, for Samenow, merely another facet of "criminal's scheming." He dismisses its rarity and difficulty, highlighting the jurisdictional inconsistencies: a man can be "sane and insane" for the same crime in different states. Criminals "fake mental illness," employing a spectrum of "behaviour that ranges from the subtle to the bizarre," all with the singular aim to "beat a charge." Faking delusions, orchestrating suicidal gestures, or feigning amnesia are all meticulously calculated tactics. "Rarely does a criminal believe that he is mentally ill, and he is likely to be offended if anyone calls him crazy. But he is willing to be called just about anything if it can help him beat a charge."
Dan, who brazenly decapitated his aunt with a hatchet, possessed no prior history of mental illness yet claimed insanity. His documented history of violence and his chillingly cold, calculated decision to "hack[ ] off her head" with the clear intent that "no way in hell can she be breathing" reveals a deliberate act, not one born of psychosis.
Even in cases like Norman, who claimed an "insect god" commanded him to rob a bank, Samenow consistently seeks the "deliberate choices." Norman’s gambling debts, his strategic purchase of a firearm, and his logical target selection (a bank, not a primary school playground) all indicate a functioning, albeit disturbed, mind. As Samenow succinctly puts it, "A person can have cancer and chicken pox at the same time; one doesn't cause the other." Similarly, a person can suffer from a genuine mental illness and still "know right from wrong and make rational choices."
The case of Lee Boyd Malvo, the younger D.C. sniper, is a personal account from Samenow. Despite claims of "dissociative disorder" and being "brainwashed" by John Muhammad, Samenow, through 34 hours of interviews, found a "strong-willed" and "quick tempered" individual who "eagerly embraced Mr. Muhammad and shared much of his view of the world." Malvo, already a thief and a feral cat killer before encountering Muhammad, adeptly adopted the "naive and needy boy" persona to manipulate the judicial system.
Samenow's enduring conclusion is a sobering one: while true mental illness undeniably exists, it does not, in itself, absolve responsibility. Allowing criminals to wield mental illness as an excuse merely perpetuates a corrosive cycle. The "additional documentation of instability" often leads to "a hospital rather than a prison," where the criminal, "thinking that he can get a better deal, perhaps a softer life," continues to "outfox the 'shrinks.'" And in this twisted dance, the underlying criminal personality, the very core of their destructive being, remains "untouched," free to wreak havoc another day. Perhaps it's time we stopped looking for a cure where there is only a choice.
Citations:
Samenow, Stanton E., Ph.D. Inside the Criminal Mind. (Specifically Chapter 12: "Mental Illness, or a Criminal Personality? Misdiagnosis of a Dangerous Person"). This book is the primary source material.
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