Book Review

By Gretchen Hornberger
Flagstaff Resident

What happens to the messenger of facts that threaten ideology? If you're Elizabeth Loftus, you become the object of derision, hate mail, and even assault. You also become an expert witness in some of the most sensational trials of the decade, the last hope for thousands of social outcasts, and a pioneer on the frontiers of the mind.

Loftus is a professor of psychology at the University of Washington. She didn't plan to become embroiled in the lives and trials of people accused of heinous crimes; she didn't plan to become a lightning rod in a storm about our relationship to our minds. But suddenly memory was on trial, and memory is something Loftus knows a lot about.

In 1992, Loftus received a call from Mike Patterson (a pseudonym), who said his 26-year-old daughter had accused him of repeatedly raping her from the time she was 18 months old until she left for college. His daughter said she had "repressed" the memories, had had no conscious knowledge of the abuse, until the traumatic memories were "recovered" in therapy. Mike denied the accusations and grieved over losing his daughter, who had severed ties with her parents on her therapist's advice.

Mike Patterson is one of thousands who turn to Loftus after being accused of sexual abuse that no one had any knowledge of until therapy uncovered the memories. Some of these accusations lead to lawsuits against the alleged perpetrators, at which point the recovered memories are usually the only evidence of abuse. In a legal system and a culture that presume innocence until guilt is proven, are these memories reliable evidence of guilt? Loftus concludes they are not.

In The Myth of Repressed Memory, Loftus discusses her 30-plus years of research into the nature of memory and the current state of memory research in general. The evidence shows the following:

The relationship between memories and reality can be corroded, manipulated, and manufactured. Time warps memories. The brain tends to create less accurate memories of traumatic events than of everyday events. Suggestion and imagination can create false memories almost effortlessly. There is no evidence that memories, however traumatic, can be repressed, or completely hidden from the conscious mind while the individual goes about daily life oblivious to the trauma they experienced.

But isn't a recovered memory itself evidence of repression? Aren't the detailed nature of these memories and patients' deep conviction in them evidence of their reality? Loftus argues no. Scientific evidence must be verifiable. One person's claim to see and deeply believe in something with no supporting evidence is insufficient proof of its veracity. There is as much evidence supporting repressed memories as there is supporting the invisible fire-breathing dragon that scientist and myth-debunker Carl Sagan wrote about in his book, Demon-Haunted World. In other words, one unverifiable claim is as likely, or unlikely, to be true as any other.

But people who recover memories of abuse aren't imagining fire-breathing dragons. How dare we doubt the truth of their vivid memories of horrifying crimes committed by trusted loved ones, memories they would never wish upon themselves? So argue the therapists who specialize in recovering repressed memories. And here lies the real tragedy of recovered memories: These individuals  aren't lying. They believe their memories are true, and they suffer the trauma and grief of any victim of childhood sexual abuse. Their lives and their families are ripped apart by memories of events that in all likelihood never happened.

Loftus points to undertrained and undercertified therapists (who usually have the most compassionate intentions) as the engine driving the false memory machine. She details and debunks common therapeutic techniques for recovering repressed memories, including body work, hypnosis and dream work. And she illuminates how therapists' genuine desire to root out child abuse has warped into an agenda that recasts the murky depths of the human psyche into a black and white battle between victims and perpetrators, where doubt itself is abuse. This agenda is kept alive by a cottage industry of self-help books and lecture circuits by people with little or no credentials.

Loftus warns, "Most therapists have only a rudimentary knowledge of the reconstructive nature of memory." In that case, patients might be wise to educate themselves on the fallibility of memory and to think critically about the soundness of their mental health treatment. The Myth of Repressed Memories  is a good place to start.

A midwest transplant, Gretchen Hornberger has lived in Flagstaff for two years.