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The
Psychological Consequences of Killing: Perpetration-Induced
Traumatic Stress
This
presentation is based on:
- My
research into the experiences of veterans who have killed
in combat (as related in my book, On Killing).
- My
experience as a law enforcement trainer and a trainer
of mental health professionals (onsite in the aftermath
of the shooting of 15 students and teachers in Jonesboro,
Arkansas, and after several other major school shootings).
This
presentation will cover:
-
The physiological and psychological responses to combat:
recent law enforcement research that provides powerful
insight into interpersonal combat as "the universal human
phobia," powerful heart rate increases now documented
as occurring in combat, and resultant physiological responses,
including forebrain shutdown.
-
The existence of a resistance to killing that exists in
the midbrain of most healthy members of most species,
becoming ascendant when the forebrain shuts down in combat,
and the impact of this resistance across the centuries
and as it was documented in World War II.
-
How the military and law enforcement communities have
learned to overcome the resistance to killing, primarily
through operantly conditioned responses using killing
simulators in training which were designated by B. F.
Skinner as an "almost perfect example of operant conditioning,"
the resultant dramatic increase in participation in killing
activities rising from 15 to 20 percent in World War II
to around 95 percent in Vietnam, and the tragic cost that
can result, and did result in Vietnam.
-
The price of this conditioning, and a detailed analysis
of some of the factors in the etiology and treatment of
post-traumatic stress disorder PTSD).
The
Universal Human Phobia
Today
we know that, in most cases, fear of death or injury is
not generally sufficient to manifest itself in a powerful
post-traumatic response. Modern society pursues fear through
roller coasters, action and horror movies, rock climbing,
bungee jumping, and a hundred other legal and illegal means.
Fear itself is seldom a cause of trauma in everyday peacetime
existence, but facing close-range interpersonal aggression
is a traumatizing experience of an entirely different magnitude
(Grossman, 1996, 76).
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-IV) of the American
Psychiatric Association affirms that PTSD “...may be especially
severe or longer lasting when the stressor is of human design
(e.g. torture, rape).” The DSM-III-R also notes that, “some
stressors frequently cause the disorder (e.g. torture),
and others produce it only occasionally (e.g. natural disasters
or car accidents).”
Thus,
400,000 Americans will die slow, hideous, horrible, preventable
deaths this year, due to cigarettes, but that does not generally
change their behavior. Yet the presence of just one serial
rapist or one serial killer in a city can change the behavior
of the entire city. Just the distant possibility of interpersonal
confrontation distresses us more and influences our behavior
more than the statistical certainty of a slow hideous death
from cancer (Grossman, 1996, 77).
When I speak to audiences I like to ask them, “What is the
difference between, (a) a tornado that tears your house
apart and puts you and your family in the hospital, and
(b) someone who comes into your house in the middle of the
night, ransacks your house and pistol whips you and your
family into the hospital?” And the answer from the audience
is always that the one is an “act of God,” and the other
is “personal.” And that is the point: it is personal. With
emphasis on the word "person" as in "human" (DSM-III-R).
When
snakes, heights, or darkness causes an intense fear reaction
in an individual it is considered a phobia, a dysfunction,
an abnormality. But it is very natural and normal to respond
to an attacking, aggressive fellow human being with a phobic-scale
response. This may well be “the universal human phobia.”
More than anything else in life, it is the potential for
intentional, overt, human confrontation that has the greatest
ability to modify and influence the behavior of human beings
(DSM-III-R).
What this means to us today is that much of the body of
psychology and psychiatry, and the body of history in this
field, all affirm that a soldier, police officer, or peacekeeper
on the street is infinitely more effective at influencing
behavior than any quantity of impersonal bombs in the air,
no matter how “smart” those bombs may be. Anything else
is simply wishful thinking. Psychologically, aerial and
artillery bombardments are effective, but only in the front
lines when they are combined with the threat of the physical
attack which usually follows such bombardments.
This is why there were mass psychiatric casualties following
World War I artillery bombardments, but World War II’s strategic
bombing of population centers were surprisingly counterproductive
in breaking the enemy's will. Such bombardments without
an accompanying close-range assault, or at least the threat
of such an assault, are ineffective and may even serve to
inoculate the enemy and to stiffen his will and resolve.
This
is also why inserting combat units behind the enemy is infinitely
more important and effective than even the most comprehensive
bombardments behind the lines or attrition along his front.
We saw this in the early years of the Korean War when the
rate of psychiatric casualties was almost seven times higher
than the average for World War II. Only after the war settled
down, lines stabilized, and the threat of having enemy in
rear areas decreased, did the average rate go down to that
of World War II (Gabriel, 1986). Again, just the potential
for close-up, inescapable, interpersonal confrontation is
more effective and has greater impact on human behavior
than the actual presence of inescapable, impersonal death
and destruction (Grossman, 1996, 80-81).
(As an aside, I would like to note that this is why, as
I presented in a paper to the U.S. Air Force, in Washington,
D.C., in July 1998, “...with very, very few exceptions,
distant punishment in the form of aerial bombing is: psychiatrically
unsound, psychologically impotent, strategically counterproductive,
morally bankrupt, and likely to soon be illegal.” I think
you can imagine that I was not a popular guest at that particular
party.)
A
Resistance to Killing
To
truly understand the nature of aggression and violence on
the battlefield we must first recognize that most participants
in close combat are literally “frightened out of their wits.”
Once the bullets start flying, and combatants slam head
on into the “universal human phobia,” they stop thinking
with the forebrain (that portion of the brain which makes
us human) and start thinking with the midbrain (the primitive
portion of our brain which is indistinguishable from that
of an animal) (Grossman, 1996, VIII)
In conflict situations this primitive, midbrain processing
can be observed in the existence of a powerful resistance
to killing one’s own kind. Animals with antlers and horns
slam together in a relatively harmless head-to-head fashion,
and piranha fight their own kind with flicks of the tail,
but against any other species these creatures unleash their
horns and teeth without restraint. This is an essential
survival mechanism which prevents a species from destroying
itself during territorial and mating rituals (Grossman,
1996, 5-6).
One
major modern revelation in the field of military psychology
is the observation that this resistance to killing one’s
own species is also a key factor in human combat. Brigadier
General S.L.A. Marshall first observed this during his work
as the Official US Historian of the European Theater of
Operations in World War II. Based on his post-combat interviews,
Marshall concluded in his book, Men Against Fire, (1946,
1978), that only 15 to 20 percent of the individual riflemen
in World War II fired their weapons at an exposed enemy
soldier. Key weapons, such as a flame thrower, usually fired.
Crew served weapons, such as a machine gun, almost always
fired. And firing would increase greatly if a nearby leader
demanded that the soldier fire. But, when left to their
own devices, the great majority of individual combatants
throughout history appear to have been unable or unwilling
to kill (Grossman, 1996, 144, 153-155).
Marshall’s findings have been somewhat controversial. Faced
with scholarly concern about a researcher’s methodology
and conclusions, the scientific method involves replicating
the research. In Marshall’s case, every available, parallel,
scholarly study validates his basic findings. Ardant du
Picq’s surveys of French officers in the 1860s and his observations
on ancient battles (Battle Studies, 1946), Keegan and Holmes’
numerous accounts of ineffectual firing throughout history
(Soldiers, 1985), Richard Holmes’ assessment of Argentine
firing rates in the Falklands War (Acts of War, 1985), Paddy
Griffith’s data on the extraordinarily low killing rate
among Napoleonic and American Civil War regiments (Battle
Tactics of the American Civil War, 1989), the British Army’s
laser reenactments of historical battles, the FBI’s studies
of non-firing rates among law enforcement officers in the
1950s and 1960s, and countless other individual and anecdotal
observations, all confirm Marshall’s fundamental conclusion
that human beings are not, by nature, killers. Indeed, from
a psychological perspective, the history of warfare can
be viewed as a series of successively more effective tactical
and mechanical mechanisms to enable or force combatants
to overcome their resistance to killing (Grossman, 1996,
3, 4, 15, 16, 22).
Overcoming
the Resistance
By
1946 the US Army had accepted Marshall’s conclusions. The
Human Resources Research Office of the US Army subsequently
pioneered a revolution in combat training which eventually
replaced firing at bullseye targets with deeply ingrained
“conditioning” using realistic, man-shaped pop-up targets
that fall when hit. This kind of powerful “operant conditioning”
is the only technique which will reliably influence the
primitive, midbrain processing of a frightened human being.
Fire drills condition terrified school children to respond
properly during a fire. Conditioning in flight simulators
enables frightened pilots to respond reflexively to emergency
situations. Similar application and perfection of basic
conditioning techniques increased the rate of fire to approximately
55 percent in Korea and around a 95 percent in Vietnam (Grossman,
1996, XVIII, 35, 251).
While
serving as an assistant professor of psychology at the US
Military Academy at West Point, I was told by my boss, Col.
Johnston Beach, that the military’s marksmanship training
program, with its pop-up targets and intricate reinforcement
schedule, was identified by B. F. Skinner, during a visit
to West Point, as an “almost perfect example of operant
conditioning.”
Equally high rates of fire resulting from modern conditioning
techniques can be seen in Holmes’ observation of British
firing rates in the Falklands, and FBI data on law enforcement
firing rates since the nationwide introduction of modern
conditioning techniques in the late 1960s (Grossman, 1996,
178).
(I should note here that I outlined the above affirmation
of Marshall’s research, and the US military’s successful
mechanisms to bypass this resistance, in several peer reviewed
encyclopedia entries, and in my peer reviewed entry on “Aggression
and Violence” in the definitive Oxford Companion to American
Military History published in the spring of 2000.)
PTSD
and the Price of Conditioning
The
extraordinarily high firing rate resulting from modern conditioning
processes was a key factor in our ability to claim that
we never lost a major engagement in Vietnam. But conditioning
which overrides such a powerful, innate resistance has enormous
potential for psychological backlash. Every warrior society
has a “purification ritual” to help the returning warrior
deal with his “blood guilt” and to reassure him that what
he did in combat was “good”. In primitive tribes this generally
involves ritual bathing, ritual separation (which serves
as a cooling-off and “group therapy” session), and a ceremony
embracing the warrior back into the tribe. Modern Western
rituals traditionally involve long separation while marching
or sailing home, parades, monuments, and the unconditional
acceptance of society and family (Grossman, 1996, 252-272).
In Vietnam this purification ritual was turned on its head.
The returning American veteran was attacked and condemned
in an unprecedented manner. The traditional horrors of combat
were magnified by modern conditioning techniques, and this
combined with societal condemnation to create a circumstance
which resulted in .5 to 1.5 million cases of post-traumatic
stress disorder (PTSD) in Vietnam veterans. This mass incidence
of psychiatric disorders among Vietnam veterans resulted
in the “discovery” of PTSD, a condition which we now know
has always occurred as a result of warfare, but never in
this quantity (Grossman, 1996, 271, 273-280).
PTSD seldom results in violent criminal acts, and upon returning
to society the recipient of modern military conditioning
is statistically less likely to engage in violent crime
than a non-veteran of the same age. The key safeguard in
this process appears to be the deeply ingrained discipline
which the soldier internalizes with his military training
(Grossman, 1996, 180, 260, 261, 319, 344).
(As
an important aside in this area, I should note that I was
called as a consultant, and on standby as an expert witness
for the US government, in the case against Timothy McVeigh
in the Oklahoma City bombing. It appeared that the defense
was going to claim that McVeigh’s military training and
Gulf War experiences were “matters of mitigation” which
could help explain his horrific crime, and I was able to
refute this claim, drawing extensively from US Bureau of
Justice Statistics information that demonstrated that the
returning veteran is a superior member of society who is
less likely to be incarcerated than a non-veteran of the
same age and sex.)
However, with the advent of interactive “point-and-shoot”
arcade and video games there is significant concern that
society is aping military conditioning, but without the
vital safeguard of discipline. There is strong evidence
to indicate that the indiscriminate civilian application
of combat conditioning techniques as entertainment may be
a key factor in worldwide, skyrocketing violent crime rates,
including a sevenfold increase in per capita aggravated
assaults in America since 1956. Thus, the latest chapter
in American military history may be occurring in our streets
(Grossman, 1996, 60, 261, 302-305).
Only
Anxiety is Forbidden
So
far we have observed that confronting interpersonal human
aggression at close range is, perhaps, “the universal human
phobia,” which can result in a greater degree of psychological
trauma than any other possible human experience. But the
greatest trauma may occur afterwards, as a result of the
midbrain’s “hijacking” of the forebrain.
In an extreme fear situation the midbrain reaches up and
takes hold of the forebrain. Afterwards there appears to
be an immediate, neural “shortcut” to the midbrain which
mobilizes the body for survival in response to any “cue”
associated with the traumatic incident. Increased heart
rate, respiration, perspiration and a host of other physiological
responses will occur for even the slightest of reasons,
and sometimes for no discernible reason whatsoever. This
can be thought of as a powerful form of associative or Pavlovian
conditioning in which a host of neutral stimuli have now
become conditioned stimuli which will touch off a powerful,
“one trial learning,” conditioned response in the autonomic
nervous system.
Time can be a valuable survival mechanism. When our ancestors
first heard a lion’s roar they had to think, if even for
a millisecond, “Oh, so THAT is a lion, I’d better run.”
Subsequently the processing of that stimulus (i.e., the
lion’s roar) would bypass the forebrain and essentially
go straight from ears to their feet, saving milliseconds
and enhancing their survival in the process. Indeed, not
just the lion’s roar, but the lion's smell, the nature of
the terrain, that spot in the jungle, and that time of day
might also all be processed. Subsequently, individuals might
not even know what has set them off, but something caused
anxiety, made the hair stand up on the back of their necks,
and caused them to slink away quietly. Soldiers in combat
soon learn (if they are lucky to survive long enough) to
react reflexively to the earliest hint of the sound of incoming
artillery, and even to distinguish between kinds of artillery
and the variety of responses required for survival, all
without ever engaging the forebrain.
But for those of us who do not live on a battlefield, or
hunt in the jungle, and with the exception of minor experiences
like hot stoves, the powerful associations involved in these
“one-trial learning” experiences can be extraordinarily
distressing. I would venture to claim that nothing distresses
healthy human beings more than to think that they are losing
control of their minds. The midbrain’s “hijacking,” “hardwiring,”
or “bypassing” of the forebrain can subsequently result
in erratic, uncontrollable physiological reactivity. Even
under the best of conditions this can sometimes continue
for up to a year after a traumatic situation. When this
occurs victims can become greatly distressed by the sense
that they are losing control of their minds. But the “best
of conditions” seldom occur naturally. Usually the physiological
reactivity that occurs will cause them to dread further
incidents, because they “know what will happen.” Thus their
fear and physiological reactivity become enmeshed in a vicious
cycle, a self-fulfilling prophecy in which anxiety creates
fear and that fear creates more anxiety and so on. Very
quickly the individual begins to manifest a powerful PTSD
response.
In an attempt to assert control, or to avoid this reactivity,
victims will attempt to (as outlined in the DSM-IV): repress
memories; avoid thoughts, places or activities that remind
them of the incident; hypercontrol their emotions; limit
their expressions of emotion and affection; and cease activities
that once caused them emotional or physical pleasure. This
intense effort to hypercontrol their own minds and to avoid
this fearful physiological reactivity will result in sleep
problems because what they deny in the day will confront
them in their dreams. They will experience hypervigilance
and exaggerated startle reactions. Their emotions, forbidden
to trickle out in a steady flow, will come out in bursts
of rage and anger.
But it doesn’t have to be this way. If, at the very beginning,
we can teach the subject to control their autonomic, physiological
arousal, then they can nip this whole process in the bud,
stopping the vicious cycle of fear and anxiety before it
consumes them. “But,” we say, “it is called an ‘autonomic’
response because it is ‘automatic.’” Yes, but the bridge
between the somatic and autonomic nervous system is breathing,
and an increasing body of research and law enforcement experience
indicates that if we teach the victim to control their breathing
then they can control their physiological arousal. (This
is based on information and feedback gained from training
over 20,000 law enforcement personnel in this technique
over the last three years.) The breathing technique that
is being taught to SWAT teams, police departments, Green
Beret battalions, and other elite forces around the world
(sometimes referred to as “autogenic breathing”) consists
simply of a deep, belly breath: breath in for a four-count,
hold for a four-count, breath out for a four-count, hold
for a four-count, and repeat three times.
It is not original with me, but I have been teaching this
to mental health practitioners, military, law enforcement,
and to my psychology classes for over five years now. In
one case a young student whom I had not seen for several
years came up to me in the supermarket with a tale he was
burning to tell. “I was in a traffic accident,” he said.
“My car flipped over, and I was trapped in the car, with
one leg broken and one lung crushed.”
“What
did you do?” I asked.
"I
began to panic,” he said. “And then I remembered what you
taught us: ‘In, two, three, four; hold, two, three, four;
out, two, three, four; hold, two, three, four’ and I began
to calm down.”
“Then
what?”
“What
else could I do? I turned the radio on and waited for someone
to come get me. And they did. They pried open the car and
pulled me out and said that if I had panicked and tried
to tear myself out I might have killed myself.”
In
one clinical situation a police officer who was suffering
from a heart attack sat in the intensive care unit and demonstrated
to his doctor how he could cut his heart rate in half using
this technique. Around the world this technique is being
embraced by military and law enforcement organizations who
find themselves using it and proving its utility immediately
before and during the most extreme of all possible circumstances.
And it is being used by mental health practitioners after
a stressful circumstance to teach survivors to master their
physiological response and thereby prevent PTSD.
In the aftermath of the March 1998 Jonesboro school shootings,
I taught the technique to the mental health professionals
and clergy who had gathered that first night. The plan was
for me to conduct the initial inbriefing, establishing the
cognitive foundations for what would follow, including training
and rehearsing the breathing techniques. The survivors would
be broken into small groups and work their way through their
experiences, one by one. During the debriefing everything
but anxiety is permitted. Laughter and tears came out, but
as soon as individuals began to show anxiety, usually manifesting
itself in hyperventilation, then they were made to stop
and breathe. Thus the survivors of this terrible, tragic
event were able to confront the memories and emotions, while
working from the very beginning to "delink" them from any
kind of physiological response.
The next day the mental health professionals, clergy, and
teachers conducted debriefings with the children, using
the same techniques and the same rules. The results were
very good. You cannot truly measure success in such circumstances,
but there were immediate, positive responses from counselors
and subjects, and a host of anecdotal support for the technique
and its application in this circumstance. In one case, a
mother complained to a counselor that she was so anxious
that she had not been able to sleep for two nights. The
counselor reports that he had her do one cycle of autogenic
breathing--three deep breaths--and her next response, to
her amazement, was simply to yawn. Also, there have been
no suicides associated with the Jonesboro shootings, although
there have been many resulting from the Littleton, Colorado,
school shootings and the Oklahoma City bombing.
You
Are Only as Sick as Your Secrets
If
we understand that the “universal human phobia” is close-range,
interpersonal aggression, and that we are systematically
enabling our combatants to kill in combat, then we can also
begin to understand that aggression from a human ‘enemy’
will result in a magnitude of trauma that is generally unlike
anything else that a human being can encounter. If you have
never experienced such a trauma, you are apt to try to place
it in terms of your own experiences and traumas, but the
reality is that this will be a fundamentally flawed exercise.
Perhaps
one of our greatest handicaps in attempting to identify
with the victim of human aggression is the fact that we
cannot help but be influenced by Hollywood. I like to ask
my audiences or psychology classes, “All’s fair in...what?”
And they always answer, “Love and war.” “That's right,”
I respond. “You see there are two things that men will often
lie about. They will lie about what happened on that date
last night, and they will lie about what happened to them
in combat. And therefore that means that what we think is
happening in combat is actually based on 5,000 years of
what?” And the answer is always, “Lies.”
Truly, Hollywood lies to us, and we cannot help but be influenced
by these lies. There are a wide variety of profoundly distressing
physiological and psychological responses to close-range
interpersonal aggression. These include loss of bowel control,
sensory gating, loss of fine and complex motor control,
and memory loss. For example, in one major survey conducted
during World War II, a quarter of all combat veterans admitted
that they urinated and defecated in their pants in combat.
(Those are the ones who would admit it. The actual number
may be quite a bit higher.) Among those wounded defecation
and urination are almost universal. But you never read about
that in the books or see it in the movies, do you? Yet this
is just the tip of the iceberg of deception and lies that
we must confront when we begin to examine the impact of
close-range interpersonal aggression.
To
fully comprehend what happens to an individual in such a
circumstance we have to realize that sympathetic nervous
system (SNS) activation has become completely ascendant,
shutting down all parasympathetic processes such as digestion.
Furthermore, and most importantly, a frightened or angry
individual has a shutdown of the forebrain, resulting in
a powerful midbrain, or mammalian brain ascendancy, which
is purely and absolutely focused on one thing: survival.
One result of this is that the midbrain (which is a relatively
simple mechanism, incapable of denial or transference) says
“Hey! Something very bad just happened, figure out what
it is and don’t ever let it happen again!” Of course the
midbrain does not speak to us in words, but rather in bursts
of emotion, and those emotions are translated, all too often,
into a sense that, “It is all my fault.” During the critical
incident debriefings after the Jonesboro shootings, many
of the survivors (including 11, 12, and 13-year-old children)
said, at some point, “It was my fault.” And the ones who
were best able to convince them that it was not their fault
were the individuals who shared the experience with them.
Perhaps the most distressing response of all is the common,
immediate, "survival instinct" reaction of intense relief
after witnessing violent death, even the death of a loved
one, which is often articulated as, “That could have been
me!” or “Thank God it wasn’t me.” The midbrain can be mercilessly
logical, and it is intent on survival. In order to be able
to help someone else survive you must, generally, first
survive yourself. It is like the passengers on an airplane,
who, “In case of loss of cabin pressure,” must “...put your
own oxygen mask on first and then assist any small children
traveling with you.” In a mercilessly logical system you
must acknowledge that in order to help your children survive
you must, with few exceptions, first survive yourself. Of
course, afterward, this initial, self-centered impulse can
result in powerful guilt feelings if not addressed.
During the initial inbriefing for the teachers who survived
the shootings in Jonesboro, I outlined to them: what would
be happening, the moral obligation to participate, the need
to “de-link” the memory of the event from anxiety, the breathing
exercise that would help in this “delinking,” and some “miscellaneous”
things that they needed to know up front. One of the things
I addressed was the loss of bowel and bladder control, the
memory loss, sensory gating, and visual narrowing (tunnel
vision) that was very common and perfectly natural. Then
I outlined the irrational acceptance of responsibility and
the common human reaction of “Thank God it wasn’t me,” after
witnessing violent death. After I told them this last item,
this “Thank God it wasn’t me response,” and told them that
it was a perfectly natural and common response, several
of these teachers laid their heads in their arms and began
to sob uncontrollably. They had experienced the intense
relief of having their deepest, darkest secret laid out
on the table, only to find out that everyone else had the
same secret in common, and it was OK. They were perfectly
normal. There was nothing wrong with them if they felt this
way.
Perhaps
half of the essence of counseling is that you are only as
sick as your secrets, and until we begin to address some
of these secrets we will never truly be able to assist fully
in the healing process. The other half of the essence of
counseling may be that pain shared is pain divided. And
the means by which this “sharing” can occur is in a group
critical incident debriefing, shortly after the trauma,
in which each individual works completely through what occurred
and receives the acceptance, forgiveness and support of
their fellow victims.
Conclusion:
An Application to PTSD Resulting from Killing
Thus
we have seen that there is a powerful resistance to killing
in most healthy human beings. We have also seen that military
and law enforcement organizations around the world have
initiated a powerful conditioning process, through military
combat training, that has enabled combatants to bypass this
resistance. An extraordinarily high firing rate resulted
from this process among US troops in Vietnam, British troops
in the Falklands, and among modern US law enforcement officers.
But
conditioning which overrides such a powerful, innate resistance
has enormous potential for psychological backlash. It has
been noted that every warrior society has a “purification
ritual” to help the returning warrior deal with his “blood
guilt” and to reassure him that what he did in combat was
“good”. In primitive tribes this generally involves ritual
bathing, ritual separation (which serves as a cooling-off
and “group therapy” session), and a ceremony embracing the
veteran back into the tribe. Modern Western rituals traditionally
involve long separation while marching or sailing home,
parades, monuments, and the unconditional acceptance of
society and family. As was noted previously, in Vietnam
this purification ritual was turned on its head, and America
paid a tragic price, with anywhere from .5 to 1.5 million
cases of PTSD occurring as a result of our conduct of that
war.
One
vital, age old aspect of this “purification ritual”, can
and has been, reintroduced since Vietnam and that is the
“debriefing,” conducted every night around the campfire.
The introduction of 24-hour combat for months on end in
World War I created an environment in which it became impossible
for the soldier to perpetuate this ancient, nightly ritual.
Throughout the 20th Century the opportunity to conduct a
daily processing of combat experiences disappeared from
the battlefield. The group critical incident debriefing
is not a new occurrence on the battlefield. The absence
of this daily debriefing is what is new, and now we are
reintroducing this ancient process, with a degree of systematic,
scientific expertise that has never occurred before.
Today, there is a moral, medical and a legal obligation
to conduct these group debriefings. These debriefings must
include all of the individuals who were involved in the
critical incident, or, if that is not possible, individuals
who were involved in similar incidents. Any organization
that sends individuals in harms way, and especially any
organization that calls upon humans to participate in the
psychologically toxic realm of interpersonal aggression
(which is, perhaps, the “universal human phobia”), and does
not subsequently conduct a critical incident debriefing
is morally, medically, and legally negligent.
Furthermore, there must be an environment wherein there
are no “secrets” to be kept, since the perpetrators may
well be “only as sick as their secrets.” That means, to
the utmost of our ability, we create an environment of transparency
and accountability in which no atrocities or criminal acts
can occur, since these are the ultimate “secrets” which
often cannot be confessed and must be kept at all costs.
Col. Greg Belenke, a psychiatrist and head of one of the
combat stress teams in the Gulf War, has definitively stated
that atrocities and criminal acts are one of the surest
paths to PTSD. PTSD can be thought of as “the gift that
keeps on giving,” since it impacts not just the perpetrators,
but also their spouses and their children in the decades
to come (Belenke, 1996).
Rachel MacNair, in her research, has found that: "The item,
'There were certain things I did in the military I can't
tell anybody,' was a strong indicator of the perpetration
groups in just about every way I looked at it. When I compared
those who were directly involved in the killing of civilians
or prisoners with those who witnessed that but were not
directly involved, yet did kill in other contexts (presumably
more in line with traditional combat), the two items that
differentiated were that one and nightmares." (R.M. MacNair,
personal communication, June 15, 2000).
This means that atrocities, the intentional killing of civilians
and prisoners, must be systematically rooted out from our
way of war, for the price of these acts is far, far too
high to let them be tolerated even to the slightest, smallest
degree. This means that we enter into an era of transparency
and accountability in all aspects of our law enforcement,
peacekeeping, and combat operations. This also says something
about that those who are called upon by their society to
“go in harm’s way,” to use deadly force, and to contend
with interpersonal human aggression. These individuals require
psychological support just as surely as they require logistical,
communications and medical support. Thus, as our society
enters into the Post-Cold War era, the fields of psychiatry
and psychology have much to contribute to the continuing
evolution of combat, and to the evolution of our civilization.
References
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Gabriel, R. A. (1987). No more heroes: madness and
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D. (2000). "Aggression and violence." The Oxford
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