WITHsome of our oldest tales are horror stories. Greek and Roman myths are full of blood, psychological terror and vile corporal punishment. Odysseywritten around the eighth or seventh century BC, gave us the Sirens, whose enchanting songs lure lonely sailors to their deaths, and Polyphemus, a colossal, lawless cannibal cyclops who devours people. Even earlier than this, the ancient Mesopotamian epic of Gilgamesh, written around 1800 BC, tells of a half-human king's encounter with a terrifying underworld where the dead feed on dust and dirt.
Perhaps humans have always been so fascinated by horror stories because we, as a species, are designed to detect threats. We can't help but imagine all the potential horrors that await us, but in the process of imagining those threats, we can also imagine how we can defeat them. This is precisely the argument that author and behavioral scientist Coltan Scrivener makes in his latest book: morbidly curious: Scientist explains why we can't look away. “We like dark, scary stories not because we're perverted, but because they're psychologically adaptive,” he says. Nautilus spoke with Scrivener about the relationship between a love of horror and empathy, why some people are especially drawn to the macabre, and how connecting with horror can help us.
What makes some people more morbidly curious than others?
Morbid curiosity tends to peak as a trait during adolescence or young adulthood. After this, it slowly declines at the population level. A personality trait that tends to be positively correlated with morbid curiosity is sensation seeking. If you're a more curious person in general, part of this is also towards dangerous things. Also, contextually, if you receive signals that something dangerous is on the horizon, it may pique your morbid curiosity. This happened around 2020. time when COVID-19 appearedpeople have become very interested in fictional stories about pandemic.
Why is interest in painful, bloody things sometimes met with condemnation?
If you see someone who likes a movie that has a lot of suffering in it, like a horror movie, you might think, “Oh, well, maybe that person thinks suffering is normal, or maybe they don't have a problem with violence or suffering.” I understand this intuition. But this does not seem to be supported by the data. For example, there is no evidence that horror fans or morbidly curious people have lower levels of empathy. In fact, they score about the same on empathy as everyone else. And in some cases, their level of compassion and cognitive empathy is even higher. People can still make fairly clear distinctions between what is real and what is fictional, or between what is history and what is not.
What are some of the documented psychological benefits of reading horror stories in books and video games and participating more in scary games?
One of the studies I conducted on a 30-40 minute haunted Halloween attraction showed that a large proportion of people experienced self-actualization or personal development. Some of them, for example, had a better understanding of how they deal with their fears and anxieties, what they need to work on, and what they are good at.
There is a really great game called MindLight, made in the Netherlands, that is used to treat anxiety in children. It only works because it's a scary game. The player wears an EEG headband that measures brain waves associated with relaxation. While playing the game, they control a character who wakes up in a dark mansion filled with monsters and needs to escape from the mansion. The only way to fight monsters is to look at the monsters and shine a small headlamp called the “mind light” on the monster. If the EEG patch detects that you're feeling too anxious, it essentially pauses the game and gives you some tips on how to calm down, including reminders that if you calm down, the light of your mind will shine brighter and you'll be able to defeat the monsters. And of course, once you calm down, the EEG headband will determine your relative calm, and this will make the light of your mind shine brighter and defeat the monsters.
This is so great. I like it. This is a creepy form of neurofeedback.
This is incredible. And several studies have shown that it is as effective as cognitive behavioral therapy in treating anxiety, and it is the best treatment we know for treating anxiety.
Beyond games like MindLight, how does engaging in traumatic stories help people psychologically prepare for threats, especially if the fictional threat is not one they might face in real life, such as an attack by a paranormal spirit or a psychopathic killer?
One of the things I've discovered is that many people who enjoy horror have slightly higher anxiety levels than the general population, which seems a little counterintuitive at first glance. You'd think that people who enjoy horror would be much less anxious. Why would someone with anxiety look for something that makes them anxious? And I think what happens is that when you experience anxiety, especially generalized anxiety, but you don't have a source that you can attribute that anxiety to or control it to reduce the anxiety, you can get into a vicious cycle of thinking about potential dangers. It becomes very difficult to simply relax because your mind will still cling to what you are worried about.
Ever since language emerged, we've probably been telling scary stories.
But one thing some people have discovered is that horror movies can help them turn off their minds because they help redirect their attention to a new threat—in this case, a threat that is imaginary and somewhat controllable. You can pause a movie, watch it with the lights on, or do something to control your anxiety. And then after about 90 minutes, in the case of the film, the threat disappears. And this signals to your brain that what you were worried about is gone and your parasympathetic nervous system, which is the part of your nervous system for resting and digesting food, can be activated and this will calm you down physiologically.
You divide morbid curiosity into four types: the minds of dangerous people; acts of violence; consequences of violence, such as bodily harm; and finally, the paranormal: evil ghosts, demons, angry deities, upset ancestors and even aliens. Do people have different ways of responding to these different types of morbid curiosity?
It is a little easier to sit back and study the mind of a dangerous person or the psychology of a dangerous person than it is to study the act of violence itself, because violence itself evokes other kinds of feelings that encourage us to avoid it. Thus, disgust or high levels of empathy can cause us to look away from violence. This is something like a gas and brake system, like in a car. Your morbid curiosity is your gas, but some of these things trigger feelings that help us hit the brakes a little.
What's your favorite horror movie?
I have a few that always come up in my top category of fears. One of my favorite films is the 1982 film. Thing. I think this is one of the most accomplished horror films ever made. He does a great job of tapping into fears of uncertainty, isolation, coalitions, and powerful organizations that we simply don't understand. It includes many disorders of the body. It does a good job of sort of covering all areas of morbid curiosity.
What is the oldest known horror story?
Ever since language emerged, we've probably been telling scary stories. There is truly a great phylogenetic study folklore and the oldest stories we know. One of the oldest they identified was about making a deal with the devil. “Little Red Riding Hood” is also phylogenetically a very old story with elements of horror that can be found in many languages. I would say that a lot of the old stories are stories about tricksters, which are terrible in their own way.
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