The Exception: A Novel Part 31

The experiment had to be interrupted after six days, mainly because the remaining prisoners were unacceptably close to mental breakdown.

There are of course many other contexts in which the role and the self become contiguous. As James Waller says in his book ent.i.tled Becoming Evil (parts of this account are based on his a.n.a.lysis of the existing evidence): Evil acts not only reflect the self, they shape the self.

GROUPS FORMED FOR ALMOST NO REASON.

The English social psychologist Henri Tajfel and a few of his colleagues set out to study how many features people must have in common in order to see themselves as part of a group and, as a next step, set up a system of prejudices against other groups.

His first plan was to recruit people without any regard to common features, allocate them at random to groups, and then gradually introduce similarities, negative prejudices, and conflicts between the groups. He expected that this process would allow him to observe how and when group ident.i.ty is formed.

In his best-known minimal group experiment, he asked the subjects to express their opinions of a few abstract paintings and separated them afterward into two groups. One lot were told that they had all expressed a preference for paintings similar to those by Paul Klee, while the others preferred the style of Wa.s.sily Kandinsky. None of this was true, as group allocation was entirely random.

The subjects did not know one another and had had no prior contact. Given the opportunity to evaluate photographs of all the subjects, partic.i.p.ants ranked those in their own group as better at their jobs and more pleasant to be with. When individuals were asked to distribute money, group members were always favored.

In a similar experiment, some of the subjects were so biased against the other group that they were happier for their own people to receive two dollars rather than three, on condition that the others received one dollar instead of four. In other words, they were more interested in beating the others than getting the highest possible payment for their own members.

Until this series of experiments, most social psychologists had a.s.sumed that group ident.i.ty was created gradually in response to shared experiences. n.o.body expected prejudice and hostility to emerge between people without any knowledge of their own group or of the others.

Relations.h.i.+ps within a group, or between groups, const.i.tute cla.s.sical fields of research in social psychology. Many different experiments show that our thoughts operate according to an Us-and-Them model. The basis for this is straightforward. Everyone is forced to work out how to deal with a world that is endlessly complex. In order to simplify existence and sort out irrelevant information quickly, we divide ourselves into categories.

Categorization is a human way of thinking, as essential as it is unavoidable. Types of category vary between individuals and cultures, but the process is common to us all. It shapes how we understand our environment and our relations.h.i.+p to it.

Social psychology has demonstrated some of the consistent distortions caused by the Us-and-Them model. We tend to exaggerate the similarities of those who belong to our group, just as we exaggerate the h.o.m.ogeneity in other groups and the differences among them. And normally we care more for members of our own group than for others.

In crises or open conflicts, these att.i.tudes become extreme. All mankind has the potential for believing the propaganda machine when it repeats endlessly: Kill, or be killed!

THE VICTIM ASKS FOR IT.

We are all aware that good people are not immune to bad experiences, but a large majority of us nonetheless try to hold on to the hope of a fundamentally just world, a good place to bring your children into.

As numerous studies demonstrate, this hope, combined with the barely conscious human need for meaning and for coherence in the information we receive, makes us twist reality until it fits into our vision of order.

It is not only those who carry out terrible acts who are deluded by their distorted thought patterns, memories, and sensory input into believing that their world is still just and meaningful. Those who witness the tragedies and, indeed, the victims themselves also collaborate in this fiction.

People struck down by a serious illness, as well as those close to the patient, are often determined to find the cause. They feel a strong need to establish exactly what they have done wrong to deserve the affliction. Again, it is common for victims of violence to wonder about the root cause. Maybe I asked for it; maybe I shouldnt have walked down that lane so late at night; maybe I shouldnt have worn that dress. Such anxieties become the focus of their thoughts, regardless of the fact that they have the right to walk down any lane and wear any kind of clothes.

Sometimes it seems that victims actively prefer to carry the burden of blame rather than recognize that mere chance can intervene to ruin a life. A wealth of experimental data supports this in every detail.

In one such experiment, Melvin Lerner and Carolyn Simmons asked seventy-two students to watch the punishment, in the form of severe electrical shocks, given every time a victim gave a wrong answer to a question. The victim was an actress, mimicking the pain.

Some of the observers were told that they would be allowed to stop the shocks later in the process. Asked to describe how they felt about the victim, those who believed she would continue to be in pain viewed her more negatively than those who thought that they would be able to control the shocks.

This way of construing the position of the victim is sharpened when we ourselves are inflicting the suffering. Cognitive dissonance makes us like those whom we have helped and dislike those we have hurt.

In the context of his experiment on obedience to authority, Stanley Milgram noted that many of the subjects later said things like: He (the pupil) was so stupid that he really deserved to be shocked. Another, similar argument was that since the pupil had agreed to join the experiment he was asking for trouble. This was despite the fact that those who expressed such a view had also joined the experiment and it had apparently been the luck of the draw that decided who was teacher and who was pupil.

It seems that powerful psychological impulses drive perpetrators to think and feel that their victims deserve whats happening to them. The more appallingly brutal the acts a perpetrator commits, the more strongly he comes to believe that they are only right and proper.

We all have a tendency to construe reality in the same way as the German civilian who commented, when forced by British soldiers to walk through a newly liberated concentration camp: What awful crimes these people must have committed to be condemned to this kind of punishment.

If you want to read about genocide in the context of social psychology, there are three major works: Becoming Evil, James Wallers highly recommended 2002 overview; the cla.s.sic The Roots of Evil by Ervin Staub; and Understanding Genocide, a compilation of articles edited by Leonard S. Newman and Ralph Erber.

chapter 32.

it is late and Iben trudges heavily to her apartment on the sixth floor. She has spent the evening in Malenes place, discussing Anne-Lise. She feels worn out, and the only thing on her mind is sleep.

At the last turn of the stair she senses someone on the landing outside her door. She looks up. The man is tall, with a ma.s.s of tightly curled black hair, graying at the temples. She takes in his black leather jacket and the dead look in his eyes. In an instant she knows that he has been waiting for her, and why.

She flies down the stairs. He goes after her with long strides and soon catches up. He grabs her throat before she has time to scream or, at least, that is how Anne-Lise usually imagines it. Then he grips her around her waist. Ibens legs, much shorter than his, kick out wildly. She knows what will happen next. So does Anne-Lise.

The reel runs and reruns inside Anne-Lises head, showing every detail as Ibens face changes. The bleak lamplight picks out the shadows under her eyes. Anne-Lise watches as Ibens expression becomes remorseful. At last she has insight into what she has done, how she lied to herself and convinced herself that she was good oh, so good at the same time that she did all she could to ruin another human being.

In Anne-Lises imagination the knife is large, with broad teeth cut deep into the steel. Iben will die now. Soon, reflex spasms will make her body twitch. She will weaken fast as life drains from her.

Anne-Lises tired mind steers in and around the fantasies that coalesce and then fade in her mind, while she tries to concentrate on other things. The familiar images, the rapist in the red tracksuit murdering Malene, the man lying in wait for Iben, can start up even when she is in the Winter Garden, talking with one of the other women.

She would like to make an appointment to see Yngve and be rea.s.sured by him. On the other hand, she knows he will insist that she confront Iben and Malene. Anne-Lise would also like to tell Nicola what the last few weeks have been like, yet cant bring herself to answer when her phone indicates that Nicola is on the line. She will keep insisting that Anne-Lise should hand in her notice.

Instead Anne-Lise tries to suppress her fantasies and think about something peaceful. Driving along the motorway in the morning, she speculates about the merger. She is still thinking about it when she turns left onto the Jagt Road exit and when she parks her car and when she rides up in the groaning old elevator with the three p.o.r.nographic cartoons scratched in the corner. Everything will change when the DCIG becomes part of the DIHR. New colleagues and a new boss.

Anne-Lise thinks about the takeover while she fills her mug with coffee until it spills over the sides. She is still thinking about it later on, when she sends off an e-mail to the wrong address.

Her first task is to a.s.sign keywords to cla.s.sified reports on the genocide carried out by the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. She compares scans from three different books to look for patterns and possible correlations.

She reads about the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan in 1979 and the attempts to change the ethnic composition of Afghan tribes. The army chiefs were especially keen to reduce the number of Pashtuns in the northern Afghan provinces, because it would facilitate their incorporation into the Soviet Union. Reliable figures are scarce, but the UN estimates that between 1978 and 1992, 1.5 to 2 million Afghans were killed. They were subjected to bombs and chemical weapons, but also to air drops of childrens toys filled with deadly toxins, ma.s.sacres, and destruction of crops and wells.

Approximately 6 million inhabitants fled. To prevent them from ever returning, the occupying army destroyed the irrigation systems on which Afghan agriculture depended, turning the refugees homeland into a desert.

The s.p.a.ce bar on Anne-Lises keyboard isnt working properly; sometimes it adds two or three s.p.a.ces, sometimes none. Unless she proofreads everything with particular care, the users wont find what they are looking for. She is checking the phrase torture and murder of foreign journalists, doctors, and aid workers when Paul steps into the Winter Garden to make an announcement.

Gunnar is going to drop in sometime this afternoon. I have promised him a tour of the Center and a talk about the funding of our operations. He insists he wants an idea about these things before he agrees to join the board.

Anne-Lise listens through the open door. She cant see the others but senses that the atmosphere has changed. The keyboards have fallen silent and now drawers are being opened and there is the sound of paper being shuffled.

When Iben speaks to Malene, does her voice somehow have an edge?

Anne-Lises desk is awash with papers, but theyre in order. In case the many Post-it notes make it look as if shes behind with a lot of jobs, she puts some of them away. She also decides to get rid of three large sacks of waste paper piled up close to her desk. The sacks, which are stuffed with wrappings of foreign books and magazine packages, actually demonstrate how efficient she is. All the same, they look too messy. She knows the spots the cleaners miss, especially with all the electrical equipment and the leads and sockets, so she does a quick spring clean.

She is almost ready when she hears the others calling out to one another.

What am I supposed to do with this?

Dont know. But what about this, then?

Anne-Lise cant hear the reply, but they start laughing. Then Iben comes running into the library, holding an empty bottle of rum. Anne-Lise has no idea where the bottle has come from but a.s.sumes that Iben brought it to drop it in the gla.s.s-recycling bin. Its the kind of thing she would do.

Iben is still laughing. Youve got plenty of room for this kind of thing! She puts the bottle in one of Anne-Lises cupboards and turns the key.

Anne-Lise cant see the point, but notices Malene watching in the doorway.

Exasperated, Anne-Lise slaps her hand on the desktop. Why do you ? She has no idea how to follow up and mumbles the first thing that comes to mind. I dont have a drinking problem.

Iben is on her way out. She replies with her back to Anne-Lise: No. Sure.

We never said anything of the sort.

Of course not!

Malene pops her head around the door to deliver an exit line. You shouldnt be so uptight. Unless weve hit a sore spot.

Camilla puts a call through to Anne-Lise from one of the library users who is looking for books on aspects of n.a.z.i collaboration in occupied France. As she talks, Anne-Lise thinks about the empty bottle and how she must get rid of it quickly, before Gunnars visit. They mustnt have a chance to come das.h.i.+ng in and open the cupboard door while Gunnar is here.

When the phone call is over, she wraps the empty bottle in a blue plastic bag, sticks it inside a cardboard box and into another cupboard farther away from her desk. She makes sure that no one sees her hiding the bottle.

That done, she hurriedly opens all her cupboards and drawers, just in case Iben and Malene have planted more false clues to suggest that shes an alcoholic. Having examined every possible hiding place three times, she tries to settle down again, but feels at a loss. Finally she catches sight of Gunnar standing on the landing.

She gets up quickly so she too can be in the Winter Garden when he walks in. He looks as she remembers him: large, tanned, but not conventionally handsome like that pretty boy Frederik.

Her excuse for being there is the roll of labels in the cupboard next to Camillas desk. She makes a show of needing to count up a large number and separating them. She smiles at Gunnar and he smiles back pleasantly enough.

Im here for a meeting with Paul Elkjr.

Anne-Lise has never been unfaithful to Henrik and isnt inclined to be. However, she feels hot and her hands are p.r.i.c.kly.

Gunnars s.h.i.+rt is open at the neck and looks very white against his tanned skin. On top, he wears a black jacket of very soft leather.

He looks at Malene. Malene looks at him. They know each other its unmistakable! Neither has spoken yet, but they are clearly more than acquaintances.

Malene gets up. Imagine him knowing her. Liking her. How have they met? How can he bring himself to like her? True, Malene did say that she knew him, but Anne-Lise thought that she meant through his writings, not personally.

Have they been to bed together? Maybe Anne-Lise has him all wrong; maybe he isnt the man she thought.

Anne-Lise also notices Ibens reaction. Iben is using both hands to fiddle with a gray stapler. Gunnar smiles at her and seems to know her too. Or does he smile at every young woman? Maybe he doesnt know Malene after all? Anne-Lise looks back at Malene. Yes, they know each other, all right.

Iben looks paler than usual. She gets up now, but her stance is different. She looks as if she wants to disappear.

It cant be more than a couple of seconds before Camilla addresses Gunnar. Oh yes. Hes waiting for you.

She goes to knock on Pauls door. Maybe ten seconds have pa.s.sed since Gunnar came in. Maybe five.

Paul opens the door. For a fraction of a moment, the sight of his guest against the backdrop of four women, who seem to be positioned around the room like sculptures, surprises him. He welcomes Gunnar and ushers him inside.

Anne-Lise quickly goes back to the library. Is Gunnar, like so many other men, indifferent to ethical standards? Anne-Lise sits at her desk. She has no idea how to explain to anyone how bad this is. She will simply sound like a hysterical teenager if she says that her heart feels horribly empty just because of that quick glance between Malene and Gunnar.

She had truly believed that there were people who wouldnt be taken in by Ibens and Malenes superficial charms, by their youthful attractiveness. And that, beyond the walls of the DCIG, there were places that functioned on different principles.

Obviously, she got it all wrong. The entire world operates according to Malenes law. There is no place for vindication.

The door to Pauls office opens. With a degree of ceremony Paul escorts Gunnar from desk to desk, introducing the Centers staff to him. All four of them stay in their seats and pretend to be absorbed in their work.

Anne-Lise hears Gunnar say that he already knows Iben and Malene.

Indeed, Malene and he are old friends and he has met Iben. He says it so casually, but they must be more than mere acquaintances to him. For one thing, Malene and Iben are less talkative and charming than they usually are in the company of a new, powerful man.

Paul leads the way to the back of the library collection. While the two men discuss the archive, Anne-Lise hears the voice of Ole, the chairman of the board, coming from the Winter Garden.

Camilla sounds pleased. Hi, Ole! Paul is in the library with Gunnar Hartvig Nielsen.

No problem. I didnt come for anything important just the weeks cuttings. I wanted to take the folder home tonight.

Everyone in the Center likes Ole. His short white beard reminds Anne-Lise of a couple of other older professors she has met. Like them, he is on the heavy side and dresses more informally than the younger academics who come and go. Perhaps its a throwback to 1970s university fas.h.i.+on.

Ole often comes by to chat to Paul about policy or matters arising at the next board meeting. Now and then he joins them for Christmas lunch or a summer dinner. Until about six months ago Anne-Lise didnt give a thought to Oles private life. She knew that he was divorced and had two sons, but that was about it. Then her sister-in-law phoned one Sunday morning to tell her that Ole had been interviewed for the series My Demons in the Sunday issue of Politiken.

Anne-Lise shot off to the newsstand and bought a paper. Amazingly, like the other famous or almost famous men and women interviewed for the series, Ole had been remarkably frank and told Politikens star interviewer some deeply personal things.

The interview got a double-page spread and was ill.u.s.trated with a splendid photograph showing Ole in all his potbellied glory, looking very full of himself; he was standing upright in one of the small fis.h.i.+ng boats that were used to smuggle Jews across the straits to Sweden during the Second World War.

Ole had confided to the journalist that he suffered from unipolar affective disorder, or depression, as it used to be called. His bouts of illness had put intolerable stress on his family and often made him act irrationally. Ten years ago, several years after his sons had moved out, his wife left him because she felt unable to help. After the divorce, she went to live in Moscow with a new partner, a Danish diplomat eight years younger than herself. Ole moved into a small but elegant apartment on one of the narrow streets behind the Royal Theater, where he has lived ever since.

He added a professional touch to the interview by mentioning the DCIG: In the course of the last century, 40 million human beings were killed in wars. But in the course of the same century approximately 60 million human beings were killed in genocidal purges organized by their own governments. So, how important is it to understand and prevent genocide? Well, if we go by the number of those killed, it is the most important problem of our time.

There seemed to be no limit to what the interviewer from Politiken could pry out of his subject. Ole spoke freely about the way modern psychopharmacology had completely changed his life and added that he couldnt stop speculating about what his life might have been like if anti-depressants had been available a couple of decades earlier.

He admitted that the pills made him impotent, but thought it a minor drawback compared to relief from the black months of depression. Besides, after a period of getting used to it, he was proud to say that he had taken on the challenge and turned it into something positive. His s.e.x life had become enriched by a number of new approaches that, in his experience, pleased women enormously.

Anne-Lise read the interview over and over again. Afterward she discussed it with Henrik. She would never have thought of Ole as depressed. It struck her then how little she knew about her coworkers. Over the last few weeks, she has thought about it even more.

On the Monday after the interview was published, Iben was off and running with a lecture about psychopharmaceuticals, stressing that tiny chemical s.h.i.+fts can cause emotional imbalances and that no amount of therapy would help. This was one of her cla.s.sic arguments, like her human beings are like animals speech.

Inevitably, everyone joked about the things Ole revealed.

When Ole turned up in the office a few days later, he was the center of attention, much more so than usual. Everyone praised him for being so open and honest. Iben spoke of one of her aunts, who had suffered badly from depression. Malene had a story about friends whose marriage had been destroyed by the illness. Ole in turn behaved as if he had expected their response. He took it for granted to such an extent that he glowed at their praise even before they offered it. His acknowledgment of any unspoken awkwardness put them at ease immediately.

Today, smiling broadly and with the folder stuck under his arm, Ole moves toward Paul and Gunnar as they come out of the library.

h.e.l.lo, Gunnar. Good to know that weve got something here you can use for Development.

Gunnar, who is a head taller than both the other men, looks radiant. The board members.h.i.+p is recognition he should have had long ago.

Hi, Ole. Of course theres plenty here. But today Im just looking the place over. Learning a bit more before accepting the offer. He turns to Paul and smiles. Im pretty likely to say yes, you know!

Ole seems to be at a loss, so Gunnar continues: Sorry, the offer to join your board to replace Frederik Thorsteinsson.