Killer Instinct

Murder TV as a window to the soul

I think it was about this time last year that I gave up murder TV. Feeling I had fallen into an unhealthy rut, I announced I would be abandoning my Thursday and Friday night commitment to the formulaic narratives of Forensic Files, City Confidential, See No Evil, Evil Lives Here, Very Scary People, Women Who Kill and the remainder macabre programming of the HLN and Investigative Discovery networks. I felt my leisure time could be better spent and a weekly immersion into murder just couldn’t be good for my soul. The announcement was integral to my exit strategy as my habit was well-honed over decades. I needed accountability partners and I created them among friends and family who would surely call me on any backsliding. And true to the classic pattern of addiction, I soon relapsed into watching serial reenactment of gruesome killing and began to wonder what about the lurid genre beckoned and seized me so effectively.

In an article for Psychology Today, psychiatrist Jean Kim likens watching murder TV to watching horror films. “From a safe distance,” she states, we are allowed “vicarious participation in the forbidden.” What I would add to Dr. Kim’s explanation is that murder as “the forbidden” becomes so only through religion, laws and societal standards. Without these civilizing constructs, people would—like animals—kill as driven by self-preservation, or, as the powerful have done throughout time, for conquest and domination. And with no disrespect to military personnel, we can see both motives and social masking of the same when soldiers kill and are distinguished as serving their country rather than being called professional killers. The fact is we all have the capacity to kill. And this includes those most committed to peace and non-violence and whether instigated by reason or religion. All that is needed to slip from the corralling arms of law and society is the right set of circumstances or conditions. I learned this for myself when my daughter was sexually assaulted and my mind immediately turned to murder. Thoughts of vengeance and retribution easily overrode my allegiance to the 6^th Commandment. The humane, moral, rational being I thought myself to be was as absent as a high-school senior on ditch day. All of a sudden I was feral. My young had been wounded and my instinctive impulse launched me into excruciating conflict with a social agreement I inherited and believed I would never violate.

A story that further demonstrates my point in its antithesis is told by award winning author Diana Abu-Jaber in The Language of Baklava. For one of their many family gatherings, Diana’s Jordanian uncles come up with a plan to slaughter a lamb like they did when they were kids. But long out of practice and worlds away from their homeland traditions, they fail to keep the lamb from the big brood of young American cousins. The children feed the lamb, play with it, name it and, inevitably, see it as a pet. The uncles, recognizing their error, hustle the children away from the lamb, sending them on a before-dinner trip to the local ice cream parlor with the aunties. Then, in a not-funny Laurel & Hardy way, everything that can go wrong goes wrong. Having overestimated their ability to kill, the uncles end up botching the slaughter, leaving the barn looking like a bloody crime scene, the meat spoiled by the flood of adrenaline that runs through the panicked, cruelly killed lamb, and the children asking lots of uncomfortable questions. Despite the experience of their childhood, the nostalgic uncles were unable to pull themselves into a state of mind necessary for killing. Conditions and circumstances were insufficient. And this is the case for most of us, even as we are natural born killers, because modern life in a land of plenty does not force us to go there. But power, on the other hand, can never get enough. And, eternally hungry for control and spoils, power depends on the killer instinct of little people like you and me to achieve its goals and uses political and economic tools to nudge us closer to the dark side. We see this happening in real time as Florida’s Ron DeSantis works his long-game attack on freedom and liberty. Setting the stage for violence and murder, DeSantis signed a 2021 “anti-riot” bill that, for his purposes, defines a riot as any public gathering of three of more people and grants civil immunity to drivers who ram into and subsequently injure or kill people gathered for such “riots.” Make no mistake, this is murder propaganda as much as it is a tool of oppression. Every person in Florida with a thirst for blood has been provided a free pass—and that pass sends the message that anyone bold enough to exercise their constitutional right to peacefully protest is, literally, free game. And, of course, we know who the targets are. Black and brown people, poor people, queer people and women. Fortunately, the 11^th District Circuit Court of Appeals upheld an injunction on HB1 while a legal challenge moves through the courts. But mark my word, DeSantis and his crew are undaunted.

Back to the piece in Psychology Today, Dr. Kim points out that the human psyche contains a healthy fear of selfish, dark and evil impulses lurking in others, including in people we love and trust. Apparently, this is something of a cousin to the fight-or-flight response and leads us to keep a subconscious, passive eye on our fellow humans for their likelihood to do harm. This bit of information makes me feel better about my guilty pleasure because I can now file all those viewing hours in the safety training category. But seriously, Dr. Kim suggests that murder TV can provide thoughtful simulation and mental rehearsal for recognizing and surviving murderous threats. Meanwhile, the actual probability of any one person being murdered is extremely low and, lucky me, I’m likely to never need the skills I’ve garnered from watching so many episodes of Dateline. But what is likely is continued and accelerated agitation of people organized—loosely or tightly—in sociopolitical tribalism. Power prevails when the struggling, the marginalized, the oppressed and those who feel threatened are at each other’s throats.

Quoted and analyzed by many authors throughout history, the philosophical maxim, know thyself, has been given many different applications. From the Heraclitus interpretation, "know your limits," to the drastic reinterpretation by Plato who understood it to mean "know your soul," I think my own interpretation—know your capacity—fits right in. For our dignity and destiny, it is critical that we recognize the fact of our killer instinct and how it can be insidiously enlivened and appropriated by power that serves only itself. Such power can be small and bounded or large and far-reaching. And while most of us will never commit an actual murder, our leanings toward rage seek outlets for expression and can seem innocuous while still priming us and others for lethal action.

In our everyday lives, the killer instinct abides subdued, like a vintage Parker shotgun, empty of ammunition, locked in a gun safe and stored securely in the garage. It is remote and there is no intention to use it. But still it exists, and, with the right “keys,” it can be accessed and used to destroy. Pushing through the tangle of conflicts, injustices, inequities, words, and opinions that can keep us in vulnerable ignorance is a worthy effort. We must become courageous enough to interrogate what we think we know and of an integrity that assures we will follow through whenever a change of attitude or behavior is indicated. We must be boldly self-examining and ready to admit ways we make ourselves available to power. Then we can responsibly reclaim our inherent killer instinct and allow it to work only for ourselves and only when there is a legitimate threat. This is soulwork—effort toward becoming more fully human.

Need some levity after reading? Enjoy this SNL Murder Show sketch.