And, anyway, it is possible that the view of ‘psychopathy’ to which we have become accustomed, where physical and sexual violence (of a depraved or sadistic nature) is the defining element, or the symptom by which the disorder reveals itself, is a distortion of what is more fundamental to it, and that can best be described as a refusal, on the part of the individual, to relate to the objects and persons of this world except insofar as those things can be made to serve the interests of that individual. Which really is not so uncommon a disposition among human beings in this country today, and which perhaps is unique to the psychopath only in the totality with which it has informed his personality. For if Dante was writing now, instead of in the thirteenth century, I would not be surprised if the characters he indicted for the sort of conduct I have just described were not so much outwardly violent (which would meet the popular criteria of ‘psychopathic,’ as we have been conditioned to understand it), but belonged to that class of individuals who, while mild and polite, and paragons of discretion, are able, through wealth or social position (or some other means that they’ve inherited, stolen, or earned) to arrange their life in such a way that they need not interact with anyone with whom they would prefer not interact (for whatever unpleasantness or discomfort it would cause them). And who have learned to conceive of life as a series of moments whose only importance is the degree to which those moments can be approached as transactions. By way of which attitude, or orientation, they lose sight of the spiritual dimension of both themselves and humankind. And neither realize, nor care, that their daily existence amounts to an abuse of their fellow man, and an affront against God.