A wave of new research is challenging long-standing assumptions about psychopathy, revealing that persistent claims of brain abnormalities in people diagnosed as psychopaths may be rooted less in science and more in “spin” — both in academic publications and popular media. This ongoing disconnect matters not just for the integrity of psychological research but also for legal, forensic, and public perceptions, which have major implications for Thai society in how we understand and treat those labeled as psychopaths.
For decades, popular science books, documentaries, and even expert testimony in courtrooms have bolstered the idea that psychopathy is a neurodevelopmental disorder — a “broken brain” behind anti-social, manipulative, and sometimes violent behavior. In Thailand, these representations have appeared in media coverage of high-profile crimes and influenced both public and judicial attitudes. But according to the latest review of over two decades of structural magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) studies, the scientific foundation behind such claims is, at best, tenuous.
Since the year 2000, when advanced neuroimaging tools first allowed for rigorous investigation of psychopathy’s neurological profile, dozens of studies sought to correlate psychopathic traits—typically measured by the Psychopathy Checklist (PCL)—with distinct brain abnormalities. The result? The overwhelming majority of findings were “null,” meaning no significant differences in brain structure were reliably detected between those diagnosed as psychopathic and the general population. In fact, in a comprehensive review covering 38 structural MRI studies, 64.1% of identified effects were null, and focused statistical scrutiny found up to 70% null results in the brain region most frequently cited in psychopathy discourse: the amygdala (Nautilus, 2025).
Yet, the way these scientific findings are presented to professionals and the public significantly differ from reality. Review papers, which are typically relied upon by forensic psychiatrists, legal authorities, and policymakers, paint a distorted picture: on average, these reviews reported less than 9% null findings, and nearly half didn’t mention null results at all. This stark omission suggests not just oversight, but a culture of “spin”—where only positive, significant, or sensational results are reported to enhance the apparent excitement or impact of the research.
Such practices are not new in scientific publishing, but the consequences become particularly acute when they influence criminal justice. In the United States, neuroimaging evidence entered legal proceedings as early as 2009 in cases such as State v. Brian Dugan, arguing for a deterministic neurological origin of psychopathy (Nautilus, 2025). While this trend is not yet widespread in Thai courts, the global influence of Western forensic psychology has the potential to inform local policy and practice, especially as advances in neuroscience become more accessible and influential in Thailand’s own legal and psychiatric communities.
Why has the disconnect persisted? Experts say much of it comes down to scientific career incentives and the pressure to produce splashy, publishable outcomes. A 2012 survey of over 2,000 psychology researchers revealed that more than half admitted to using tactics such as selectively reporting positive results, excluding contradictory data, or otherwise engaging in scientific spin to make their results appear more groundbreaking than they are (John et al., 2012).
Instead of dispelling the “broken brain” myth, the academic review literature has often reinforced it, in stark contrast to other areas of psychopathy research—such as risk management and treatment—where the review literature has generally provided more balanced and accurate summaries. In those fields, exaggerated claims are usually traced back to a handful of outlier researchers; but when it comes to the neuroimaging question, the distortion seems systematic.
Interestingly, popular culture and public discourse have only deepened the confusion. Bestselling books like “Without Conscience,” “The Psychopath Inside,” and “The Psychopath Whisperer”—frequently referenced in Thai psychology and criminology courses—have all leaned on anecdotal or dramatized interpretations of brain scans, claiming distinctive, even monstrous, differences in the brains of psychopathic individuals. Television documentaries and social media, including YouTube and TikTok, perpetuate these notions, sometimes racking up millions of views and becoming primary sources of information for laypeople and students alike.
But as recent high-quality review studies now clarify, the persistent narrative of psychopathy as a neurodevelopmental disorder with distinct neural signatures is scientifically untenable. Researchers now suggest that the few significant findings in MRI studies might be better explained by unrelated factors such as substance use, medication effects, or previous head trauma, rather than the psychopathic traits themselves (Griffiths & Jalava, 2017). Null findings are the norm, not the exception—yet mainstream depictions still lag behind the data.
For Thailand, this revelation carries important lessons. The kingdom’s criminal justice system, mental health services, and even educational sectors frequently interact with people labeled as psychopaths. Mischaracterizing their condition as a brain disease could lead to undue stigmatization, suboptimal treatment strategies, and misinformed legal decisions. Already, Thai psychiatrists and psychologists voice concern over imported Western diagnostic criteria and the risk of “cultural mismatch” when applying these labels in different social, religious, and familial contexts. Buddhist ethics, which emphasize compassion, personal transformation, and social harmony, may be at odds with presentations of psychopathy as fixed and untreatable.
A member of a prominent Thai psychiatric association observed, “If we exaggerate differences or think of psychopathy as a permanent brain disorder, we close the door to rehabilitation and recovery, which is contrary to both medical ethics and Thai cultural values.” This sentiment echoes a systemic problem observed in psychopathy scholarship globally, now amplified by the latest research findings.
The misuse of positive-sounding, but unsupported, neuroscientific explanations is more than an academic sin. In some cases, it leads to policy and treatment regimes that ignore the evidence for the treatability of psychopathic traits, fueling pessimism and potentially violating human rights. Previous studies, including those by the World Health Organization, have found that negative stereotypes about mental illness increase stigma and decrease willingness to seek help, which is a pressing issue in Thailand’s already strained mental healthcare system (WHO, 2019).
Looking ahead, the future of psychopathy research promises greater transparency as reviewers increasingly call out spin and demand the inclusion of null results. Many researchers are now advocating for open science practices, preregistered studies, and reporting standards that require the publication of all data—both significant and non-significant. In Thailand, the adoption of such reforms could dovetail with efforts by the Ministry of Public Health and national psychiatric organizations to update training curricula for clinicians, ensuring that new generations of mental health professionals are equipped with a nuanced, evidence-based, and culturally conscientious understanding of psychopathy.
What does this mean for Thai readers, educators, and policymakers? The most pragmatic approach begins with skepticism toward overly “neat” scientific stories, especially those that offer easy explanations rooted in the brain. As one Thai clinical psychologist teaching at a major Bangkok hospital explained, “Popular science is good for raising awareness, but we need to develop critical thinking skills so we don’t let entertaining anecdotes undermine rigorous evidence.” Legal professionals, too, should exercise caution before accepting neuroimaging evidence as determinative in court, and recognize that the science is rarely as clear-cut as it appears in pop-culture retellings.
Thai researchers and educators can lead by example, insisting on accurate reporting and broader awareness of the complex interplay between biology, environment, and behavior. As students and the general public seek to understand the roots of difficult social phenomena—whether in high-profile crimes or in everyday encounters with mental illness—they would do well to look beyond the sensational to the sober, incremental revelations of careful science.
In summary, the sweeping claims of “broken brains” among psychopaths have not been substantiated by credible MRI research, and the systematic misrepresentation of these findings—exacerbated by scientific “spin” and popular hype—has misled both experts and the wider public. The time is ripe for Thai professionals and citizens alike to adopt a critical, evidence-based approach, demanding higher standards of transparency, and always remembering the wisdom of the Thai proverb: “Chiwit mai dai klap tham, khon mai mee karn plianแปลง, mai kin gae” (“Life does not go backward, people who never change, grow old but don’t improve”). In health, law, and education, fostering both scientific integrity and compassion will help Thailand navigate the complex realities of human behavior with reason and humanity.
For those interested in further research and critical discussions, resources such as the MIT Press Reader’s excerpted book “Psychopathy Unmasked” and the original research on scientific spin by Leslie John and colleagues provide excellent starting points (MIT Press Reader, PubMed). In the Thai context, national psychiatric journals and WHO guidelines for mental health stigma reduction remain vital references for continuing education and practice.