Sociopaths, Fantasy and Real

Adam Kotsko observes (Why We Love Sociopaths) that contemporary TV is awash with sociopathic character, “ruthless individuals who make their own rules.” These he calls “fantasy sociopaths,” who are capable of maintaining two incompatible positions simultaneously. They are “somehow outside social norms—largely bereft of human sympathy, for instance, and generally amoral” and yet the sociopath is “simultaneously a master manipulator, who can instrumentalize social norms to get what he or she wants” (6).

Kotsko says that it is the social mastery that sets the fantasy sociopath off from his real-life counterpart: “I do not wish to delve into the DSM or any other authority in the field of psychology, where the usefulness of sociopathy as a diagnostic category is in any case disputed. Yet as I understand it, real-life sociopaths are pitiable creatures indeed. Often victims of severe abuse, they are bereft of all human connection, unable to tell truth from lies, charming and manipulative for a few minutes at most but with no real ability to formulate meaningful goals.” B y contrast, “the contemporary fantasy of sociopathy picks and chooses from those characteristics, emphasizing the lack of moral intuition, human empathy, and emotional connection” (6-7).

Fantasy sociopaths are the opposite of awkward. Because he lacks any sense of social connection, he doesn’t feel the burden of awkwardness that those social connections bring. Yet in real life, we don’t love or admire or envy people who lack awkwardness. To explain how we “get from the everyday sociopath to the fantasy sociopath,” Kotsko introduces the category of “culture-wide awkwardness.” As cultures break down, awkwardness spreads: “a social order in a state of cultural awkwardness is perfectly capable of telling us what we’re doing wrong—but it has no convincing account of what it would look like to do things right” (11).

In this setting, we fantasize about being free from the frowns that surround us. The world isn’t fair, and it seems that only those who break the rules are able to make headway. We project an image of perfect un-awkwardness onto those who succeed: “We recognize our weakness and patheticness and project its opposite onto our conquerors. If we feel very acutely the force of social pressure, they feel nothing. If we are bound by guilt and obligation, they are completely amoral. And if we don’t have any idea what to do about the situation, they always know exactly what to do” (11).And we start wishing we were Tony Soprano.