Obedience as Personal Response
Alan C. Elms
obedience as personal response:
the role of individual differences
Obedience is a curse. That is what makes Germans.
-- Gertrude Stein, Yes Is for a Very Young Man
The forty volunteers in each of Milgram's experimental
conditions were quite similar to every other forty volunteers in age,
sex, and general occupational category. This sameness of certain
individual variables, and the randomness of others, made it possible
for Milgram to draw his conclusions about situational variables. If
he'd used forty Yale sophomores in the Touch-Proximity condition, and
forty middle-aged Rotarians for the Remote Feedback condition, he could
hardly have said anything about behavioral differences between groups
– whether they were situationally determined, or determined by
any or all of the ways in which Yale sophomores differ from Rotarians.
A large pool of potential volunteers was built up before
Milgram started running his main experiments. Each experiment's set of
forty volunteers could therefore be selected to include 20 per cent
professional, 40 per cent white collar (sales and business), and 40 per
cent skilled and unskilled workers; and within these occupational
categories, 40 per cent in their forties, 40 per cent in their
thirties, and 20 per cent in their twenties. Most volunteers were men,
and only men were used, except in one later experiment that included
only women. (Their level of obedience was about the same as for men.)
An impressively varied assortment of people volunteered, ranging from
grade-school dropouts to Ph.D.'s, from unemployed laborers through many
types of skilled workers to the highest professional categories.
Motives for volunteering obviously varied as well. Some mainly wanted
the $4.50 for an hour's work; some were mainly curious; some wanted to
help science; some seemed to enjoy the prestige of participating in a
Yale University enterprise.
The method of recruiting made little difference: the
several hundred who responded to Milgram's newspaper advertisement
appeared similar in background to several hundred more who responded to
a form letter giving the same information in similar language. The
language in Milgram's form letter seemed to me so crassly commercial
that I thought it might be scaring some people away, so I wrote a more
high-toned letter that we sent out in a test mailing of two hundred. It
said things like, "We hope you will seriously consider taking part in
this project, since the result may be of considerable scientific
importance," and it delivered twenty responses – roughly the same
percentage as with Milgram's brassier letter, which we continued to use
thereafter. Because only 10 or 11 per cent of the people who got the
letters responded to them (and because only a small percentage of those
who saw the newspaper ad sent in the coupon), the ones who came may
well have differed in unknown ways from the population as a whole.
However, because they were volunteering for an experiment on memory and
learning rather than for an obedience study, and because those who did
come displayed a wide range of motives, Milgram's findings probably
aren't very unrepresentative of the population as a whole.
But personality differences, though perhaps not
pronounced between experimental groups, were obviously a substantial
factor within each experiment. When twenty-four men are willing to
shock a helpless victim with high levels of electricity, while sixteen
men flatly refuse under the same circumstances, chance alone is not
likely to determine who is obedient and who defiant. When the situation
is made so stressful that all but a few men refuse to participate, what
streak of subservience or sadism characterizes the few and not the many?
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS OF VOLUNTEERS
In the interviews held immediately after experimental
participation, Milgram asked volunteers questions about their military
experience, political affiliation, and the like. Republicans and
Democrats were not significantly different in obedience levels;
Catholics were more obedient than other religious groups; the
better-educated were more defiant; those in the more "moral"
professions such as law, medicine, and teaching showed greater defiance
than those in the more technical professions such as engineering and
the physical sciences. The longer one's military service, the more
obedience – except that former officers were less obedient than
those who had served only as enlisted men, regardless of length of
service.
The picture of a schoolmaster commanding his assistant
to whip a student, especially drawn for the study, yielded little
useful information. It was included so that volunteers might project
their unconscious or unstated feelings of guilt, remorse, sadism, and
so on into the story they made up about the picture (much as in the
Thematic Apperception Test). But they generally gave pretty ordinary
stories, and – strikingly – seldom commented on any
resemblance between the picture and their own present situation. To
obtain more detailed information on personality differences, I invited
a number of Milgram's volunteers to come back to Yale, several months
after their original participation, for a two-hour interview (Elms and
Milgram, 1966). Milgram's overall results suggested that a certain
percentage of volunteers were on the fence, in terms of possible
personality bases for obedience: if they happened to be in the
situation where they merely heard the victim yelling, they shocked him;
if they both saw and heard him, they didn't shock him. Others seemed to
have a more personal commitment to defiance regardless of the specific
situation; a few bangs on the wall from the victims were all they
needed to quit. Still others had such strong predispositions toward
obedience that they obeyed even if it meant slamming the victim's arm
down onto the shockplate. To sort out the personality characteristics
leading to obedience or defiance somewhat more clearly, I interviewed
twenty people who had defied the experimenter even when the cues to do
so were relatively mild (these people were mainly from the
bump-on-the-wall Remote condition, with a few from the Voice Feedback
condition), and twenty who had obeyed even when the victim was sitting
next to them, or even when they had to press his arm to the shockplate.
I tried several ways of getting useful personality data
from each of these people. For one thing, I gave them the MMPI
(Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory), a widely used list of
several hundred statements with which a person's total number of
agreements and disagreements supposedly shows whether he tends toward
paranoia, schizophrenia, psychopathic deviancy, or several other
unfortunate conditions. I suspected that an obedient volunteer, for
instance, might show psychopathic tendencies, because the presence of a
strong conscience (lacking in the psychopath) would probably interfere
with shocking people. But I found that obedients and defiants don't
differ significantly on the MMPI measure of psychopaths, and now that I
think of it, it's also true that a psychopath might not put much stock
in obeying orders, as the obedient volunteers do. Paranoids supposedly
have a high level of repressed hostility, so maybe they'd be better
shockers; but then they might distrust the experimenter and refuse to
obey him – so again it's not really a surprise that defiants and
obedients showed no significant difference on paranoia. You can find
the same contradictions, as applied to behavior in the Milgram
experiment, for just about every scale of the MMPI; and in fact I
didn't get significant differences on any of the twelve standard
scales. The only one that did differ noticeably was intended to measure
"social responsibility" (Gough et al., 1952); defiant volunteers were
more responsible, as you might expect. Or might you? High scorers on
this scale are supposed to be more willing to accept the consequences
of their own behavior, to show "greater concern for social and moral
issues," to feel a greater sense of obligation to their peer group, all
of which might describe the ideal defiant volunteer. But high
social-responsibility scorers are also supposed to be dependable,
trustworthy, "more compliant and acquiescent," "less rebellious and
recalcitrant." Now, is that or isn't that an obedient subject? Oh, well
– the MMPI took only about half the interview session.
Then I asked each man to "tell me the most important
things about yourself," and let him talk. Here the reader may exercise
his psychological acumen: which of these answers are from defiant
subjects and which from obedients?
A: “I'm a good worker; I provide for
my family; I work hard; I work for my father, and there's no harder
boss than your own dad. I don't go out and bum around like some of the
guys do, I don't have time. The only bad things about me, I do get tied
up in my work – I promise the kids to do something, take them
somewhere, and then have to cancel because I get called out on a
job.”
B: “I enjoy my job. I have an
enjoyable family, three children. If I had it to do all over again, I
might choose another profession, for financial reasons. . . . I like
hunting very much and fishing. I like to grow flowers around the yard
– I like to raise a vegetable garden, primarily because I like
fresh vegetables.”
C: “I feel disappointed at the lack
of opportunity provided by the social-intellectual climate of society
for me to make contributions I feel capable of making. . . . I have
turned for consolation to the comforts of family life and financial
accomplishment. I still remain hopeful a position may present itself in
which I can better take advantage of what I feel is my intellectual
ability. I have not turned bitter. I have a generally low opinion of
the intellectual level of humanity.”
D: “I'm basically honest. I believe
in the hereafter, God and everything – I'm a family man, a good
provider. I'm 38, honest with myself, with my neighbors and so
forth.”
If somebody can see any noticeable pattern
distinguishing them, or the other volunteers in my files, then somebody
is a better analyzer of open-ended responses than I am. A and B were obedient, C and D
were defiant. Most volunteers felt they weren't perfect, felt some
disappointments in life, could see some cause for optimism, liked their
wives and kids; several drank too much; and there appeared to be simply
no consistent differences between obedients and defiants. Whenever
there was a defiant volunteer who did charity work for slum children,
there was an obedient subject who was active in a civil liberties
organization. Whenever an obedient forgot to mention his family as
being of any importance in his life, a defiant did likewise. There was
no good evidence among these people for the scapegoating or
frustration-aggression theory of hostile behavior, either. The
obedients seemed to lead neither more nor less frustrated lives than
the defiants. Arnold Buss (1966), using a similar shock machine to
study aggression rather than obedience, has purposely frustrated
volunteers to different degrees, and finds no real differences in their
willingness to administer strong shock. Russell Geen (1968) has found
immediate frustration to provoke delivery of higher shock levels, but
only if obvious cues for strong physical aggression (such as a film of
a savage prize fight) are presented as part of the situation. Such cues
were not present in the "scientific" surroundings of the Milgram
situation. Scratch another good idea.
AUTHORITARIANISM AND OBEDIENCE
Following that open-ended question on the "most
important things about yourself," I asked thirty more specific
questions, and here we got several differences. Obedient volunteers
reported being less close to their fathers during childhood than
defiants did. Obedients described their fathers (but not their mothers)
in distinctly more negative terms. As children, obedients usually had
received either spankings or very little punishment, while defiants had
often been punished either by severe beatings or by some kind of
deprivation – of love or dinner. Slightly more obedients had
served on active military duty (Milgram had found an even clearer
difference here, in his short post-experiment interview); among these
veterans, nearly every obedient said he had shot at men, and every
defiant subject denied it. Obedients saw the "Memory and Learning"
experimenter as clearly more admirable, and the learner as much less
so, than did defiant volunteers.
Part of this may sound familiar, if you recall the discussion of The Authoritarian Personality
in Chapter Three. Authoritarians were reportedly more distant from
their stiff authoritarian fathers as children; they presumably would be
more at ease in the military; they should see people occupying
positions of authority in a more favorable light than those in inferior
positions. Nor do we have to depend entirely on these indirect
indications of authoritarianism, since I mixed the original
Authoritarian F Scale into the MMPI. Here we get a big difference:
obedients are significantly more authoritarian than defiants.
The problem does arise that less-educated people have
been found to be consistently more authoritarian than the
well-educated, and that Milgram had found less-educated people more
obedient. So instead of authoritarian personalities producing
obedience, lack of education could be producing both. But even after
educational level was statistically controlled for, the more obedient
subjects were still more authoritarian on the F Scale. Anyway, we
should not lightly dismiss the fact that low education goes with
obedience, whatever the relation of both to the F Scale. Maybe a poorly
educated person agrees with more F items because some of the items
sound pretty dumb, as several writers have suggested; if so, the
relationship between education and F scores would be a rather trivial
finding. But the willingness of a poorly educated person to inflict
grievous harm on an innocent bystander isn't trivial, whether it's
because he's ignorant or what.
Obedience to authority does not appear to be absolutely
synonymous with authoritarianism, at least as Adorno et al. saw it. The
authoritarian is reported, for instance, to idealize his parents; but
the obedients did the opposite, at least with regard to their fathers.
Authoritarians typically report receiving strict discipline as
children; obedients report rather spotty discipline. It's true that the
obedients were asked about their fathers' characteristics here and now,
and maybe most had come to see Dad in a more realistic light, as the
authoritarian SOB he really was. But there's still room for doubt as to
whether obedience and authoritarianism are entirely one.
Nonetheless, the relationship between obedience and some
elements of authoritarianism seems fairly strong; and it should be
remembered that the measure of obedience is a measure of actual
submission to authority, not just what a person says he's likely to do.
Too much research on authoritarianism, and too much criticism of it,
has been at the level of paper-and-pencil responses, which don't
necessarily get translated into behavior. In Milgram's experiments we
have people either obeying or refusing the demands of authority, in a
realistic and highly disturbing situation; we find that most of the few
personality measures which discriminate obedients from defiants involve
the sort of thing Adorno and his associates sifted from a large mass of
very different kinds of measures and called authoritarianism. So it
looks as if those researchers in the late 1940's really had something,
something that can be translated from abstract tendencies into actual
authoritarian behavior: submitting to the man in command, punishing the
weaker subordinate.
Of course we knew it all along, didn't we? We knew it
about Germans, anyway: how Germans had cherished authoritarian
ideologies during a good part of the past hundred years; how German
childraising, German character development, led to ugly behaviors in
adulthood. But those were Germans, a peculiar breed of humanity. These
are Americans, and their ancestors include English and Irish and
Italians; their religions run the gamut and so do their occupations and
their socioeconomic statuses. Look around you: whose basic character is
obedient and whose defiant? How about yours?
HYPOTHETICAL SITUATIONS AND REAL BEHAVIOR
One small indication of how hard it is to tell, without
going through a Milgram experiment – how hard it is to predict a
man's behavior from what he says he'd do – is the sad story of a
questionnaire I devised, the last thing I gave my interview volunteers.
It consisted of ten situations in which a person was faced with a
choice between obedient and defiant behavior, altruistic or
self-serving responses, punishment or mercy toward others. One
situation that seemed fairly easy for most volunteers to decide
negatively was this:
“An eccentric millionaire, whom you have read
about in the newspapers, calls you and invites you to his home. There
he tells you he wants to take revenge on a beautiful woman who has
refused to marry him. He offers you five hundred thousand dollars, all
taxes paid, if you will throw enough acid in this woman's face to scar
her permanently. He will arrange all the details so there will be no
clues to trace you; the reason he is asking you to do it is because he
wants someone who has absolutely no connection either with him or with
the woman. Would you do what the millionaire asks in return for the
five hundred thousand dollars?”
Other situations seemed to present more problems: one
that asked whether the volunteer would share his family's bomb shelter
and short rations with neighbors during atomic attack; one that
presented a dilemma involving a good student caught cheating on an
exam; and one that went:
“Assume you are a soldier in the American Army in
World War II, and your troop unit marches in to take over a German
village. Although the people are poor, there is a fine schoolhouse in
the village. Your commanding officer orders you to burn the schoolhouse
down, in order to show the Germans that the American troops mean
business. The villagers beg you not to burn it down, since the village
children would have no place to attend school. Will you burn the
schoolhouse down or not?”
The answers were mostly unimaginative, but some were at
least entertaining, and a few fulfilled my expectations for obedients
and defiants. For instance, on the last question above, one obedient
volunteer replied, "If an officer says you burn it, you burn it. You
may not like to, but you burn it." Another: "Burn it down – I'm a
soldier." "We will burn the schoolhouse down – I answer from
experience." One obedient volunteer even quoted from "The Charge of the
Light Brigade" in justification. But, sad to say, defiant subjects
agreed to burn the schoolhouse just about as often; and a few obedients
suggested other outcomes – for instance, that a fatal "accident"
might happen to the commanding officer when he had his back turned. The
fallout shelter question generated even more division of opinion; but
the division again was not along the obedient-defiant dimension. Some
defiants would sternly keep people out; some obedients seemed
surprisingly soft-hearted. One obedient chuckled his way through an
answer: "I don't know what you would do – feed them to the dogs
– lock the door. I'm only joking – but realizing we can't
live through this like that, I'd keep them out." (Would you use force
to keep them out?) "Yes. I would shoot 'em! Just joking. . . ." And
finally he said, "Actually I would let them in anyway. When the
situation came, we don't know how we'd react to it."
That seems a pretty fair statement, because in these
imaginary situations, obedients and defiants together ran the gamut
from kindness to cruelty, obedience to defiance, selfishness to
selflessness. Of course we know that in the crucial circumstances of
Milgram's laboratory, the obedients zapped their way to the end of the
shock board, while the defiants stopped the show. But we'd never know
it from the questionnaire. One man who had been completely obedient in
the Touch-Proximity condition described himself, in response to a
hypothetical situation, as "the kind of guy who tries to dodge a
squirrel with a car, and looks back to see that the next guy doesn't
hit him." Another Touch-Proximity obedient, who said he put himself
through college by working summers in a slaughterhouse, "standing
knee-deep in blood," answered nearly every hypothetical question in the
kindliest fashion, disobeying authorities and ignoring his own
self-interest repeatedly (in imagination) to come to the aid of others.
Perhaps he and several fellow obedients were trying to restore their
own good self-image, or their image in the interviewer's eyes, by
answering the questionnaire so altruistically after having behaved so
despicably in the experiment; but there was little indication that this
was the main concern of most respondents.
Lawrence Kohlberg (1969) has presented another group of
Milgram's volunteers with a set of imaginary moral dilemmas,
emphasizing not so much how they say they'd behave as why.
He finds that of the few who base their decisions on general moral
principles, most were defiant in the Milgram study, while most of those
at a more restricted level of moral development obeyed the experimenter
completely. But even Kohlberg's procedures, as far as I can tell,
wouldn't produce very accurate predictions of behavior over the entire
range of proximity conditions. My own questionnaire was considerably
worse in its predictive power; and most short-answer psychological
tests of "behavior" and personality resemble my questionnaire more than
Kohlberg's, both in their emphasis on what a person says he'll do
instead of why, and in their inability to predict actual behavior. The
moral seems clear: the further you get from overt behavior in a
genuinely involving situation, and the closer you get to armchair
speculation (even if it's a person's speculation about his own probable
future behavior, or the speculations of forty expert psychiatrists),
the higher the likelihood of ending up with the wrong answers. Milgram
had constructed a reality that divided men on an important behavior; I
had constructed a questionnaire that looked as though it should yield
similar divisions. But however I analyzed the answers to this
questionnaire, forward, backward, upside down and sideways, the
obedients and the defiants just weren't much different. That wouldn't
have bothered me much, except that I knew they really were different, dammit!
[From Alan C. Elms, Social Psychology and Social Relevance,
Chapter 4, pp. 128-136. Boston: Little, Brown, 1972. Copyright ©
1972 by Little, Brown and Company; copyright renewed 1998 by Alan C.
Elms.]
For the next section of this chapter, go to The Sin of Conformity. For the previous sections of this chapter, go to Acts of Submission.
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