TB: I guess my initial response is, I don’t care. I mean, really. I’m not really concerned about my image; it’s so bad anyway. I mean, the media image. I know who I am, what I am, and know where I’ve been, and hopefully, I have some idea about where I’m going. I have absolutely no desire to relate to people or impress people or project myself to people at all. . . that’s not it. The Ted Bundy that people are going to be thinking about and reading about. . . really bears very little resemblance to me. I’m not in a popularity contest as far as that goes. I don’t care about a reputation, and if I had my druthers, I’d never, ever have walked into a courtroom. I’d never have seen a police officer. I’d have never been in prison or on TV or in the newspapers.
I hate the publicity! I hate the image. I hate the notoriety with a passion. I’d love to be the most obscure person in the world right now. And so I really don’t care what people think of me. . . because it’s none of their business.
HA: Some would find it unusual that you say you hate publicity. You seemed to bask in it – especially in Colorado and Utah and in the early days here in Florida. But so much for that. Let’s talk about one of your favorite topics – how psychiatrists envision you.
TB: Because of my association with all these crimes, the experts refuse to perceive me as being, uh, even remotely – you know, anything that approaches being normal. I mean, I’m not an animal, and I’m not crazy and I’m not a split personality. That’s all there is to it. People refuse to believe that. That’s their problem.
There’s nothing in my background – I swear to God, and I know it – I’ve analyzed my own background and I know. . . there’s no doubt in my mind that there’s nothing in my background, no one factor or collection of factors that would explain (long pause) or would otherwise (long pause) lead one to believe that I was capable of committing murder.
HA: Many experts, those who deal with this kind of homicide on a regular basis, say that such a person as we’re looking at here would keep little mementos – maybe a diary, jewelry, hair, even pictures. Or he might want to confide in somebody.
TB: Well, you know, we’re positive we’re dealing with an individual whose primary concern is not to be detected. I think we’ve seen this over and over again. Obviously, if we attribute the murders, for instance, in the Seattle area to a person with this kind of mentality, it’s clear he didn’t want to be captured. Because he hasn’t been captured. He hasn’t been charged and he hasn’t been convicted. All right?
So he doesn’t want to get caught, and he’s rational enough not to talk to anybody about it – rational enough not to write anything down. I mean, that’s just common sense. So we wouldn’t expect him to have a diary. We wouldn’t expect him to share any information, because no one could be trusted. I doubt that anyone would seriously believe that they could tell other civilized human beings that they’d committed any number of murders and not expect that person to come forward at some time, you know.
HA: Would he recall every one of the murders? Would some of them stand out more clearly and be recalled easier?
TB: Well, since we. . . you know. . . we’ve said that this individual did not have a split personality and did not have temporary amnesia, uh, assuming that he is a fairly rational – at times at least – a semirational person, we would expect that he had normal brain functions. We’d expect him to remember every one of the crimes he committed – and everything else that he’d done, with the qualification that we all tend to forget the small details, or even large details.
HA: Would some be more memorable than others?
TB: Oh, yes. I, I couldn’t say for sure. We have discussed the fact that this individual might have used alcohol to facilitate the minimization of inhibitions under these circumstances, uh, prior to and during the commission of the crime. And knowing what those of us who had alcohol – especially under heavy amounts of alcohol – should all know, we tend to remember less than if we weren’t under the influence. So we’d expect this person to remember more about those crimes he committed when he wasn’t intoxicated
HA: When I suggested he might talk to somebody, I meant somebody qualified to help him with his problem – a psychiatrist, perhaps.
TB: I’m not trying to avoid the question. You asked twice before if there was ever a point where this person sought help. Or had considered it or checked out the idea. I addressed myself to that question somehow and it brought something else to mind.
Perhaps the only firm trend I ever ran across in the study of abnormal behavior was that the younger that a person. . . that he or she was when they manifested abnormal behavior or thought pattern. . . the more likely it was that there was going to be a condition that would be lasting. And, uh, permanent. A chronic disorder.
Persons who suffer such disorders in later years, or a quick onset of the particular abnormal behavior pattern, suffer acute conditions. And it seemed to make sense to me – and the literature is fairly consistent – that the younger it was that a person would develop these problems that more likely, the higher the likelihood that they would continue on with those problems, unless treated, without hope of some kind of remission.
Now, in developing and creating this psychological model that we’ve applied to various situations and cases, uh, we’ve been unable to spot a particular cause – something that would say, “This is why it would happen”. . . uh, uh, “This is what,” you know. Then perhaps a withdrawal of this condition would make it go away – would rehabilitate the individual.
It’s hard; it’s not like pushing a button and flipping switches, certainly, but we’re looking for a remedy. If there is one, it’s gonna be a long answer.
HA: Take your time.
TB: But (pause). . . so you must first ask yourself, not knowing the specific cause, you have to speculate as to the cause and then consider various therapeutic avenues in treatment.
Let’s consider the possibility that this person suffered from some sort of an acute onset of a desire that resulted in the pattern of, of, of, killing young girls. And that there was no other explanation for that, other than it was some sort of genetic or even congenital condition whose time had come. . . that, uh, I mean, that unless you could get it under an electron microscope somewhere and you could understand the complex circuitry of the brain, you’d never know just why, because there’d never be a satisfactory explanation. Everything in the person’s background might be known, but how do you account for it?
There’s just no established model of behavior that would account for it. So you’d have to. . . somewhere in the chemical, uh, finery of the brain, something went wrong, temporarily. Whether it’s temporary or permanent, under those conditions we might not ever know. And the only way to find out would be just to watch the person and see how long the conduct lasted. If it lasted indefinitely, then we’d know that something was permanently wrong.
Now, let’s see. . . let me, uh. . . it’s not a, some chemical imbalance or some genetic switch gone wrong – that somehow maybe there was a predisposition, you might call it a condition which, uh, I’ve alluded to before. I referred to it as a weakness or predisposition, which, absent certain stresses and certain environmental conditions, would never have resulted in this behavior but did.
So what we’re saying is the personality. . . the weakness in the personality which becomes malevolent because of a certain set of complex environmental factors and opportunity factors as well here. . . we don’t know exactly what combination resulted in his wanting to murder young women – exactly why or even remotely why – but we do know that its environmental, it’s specific to an environment, a certain set of stresses, and we can go from there.
It’s unlikely this person would change – ever change – unless he recognized at some point and time, was forced to recognize what was causing him to act the way he was and tried to find, or even confronted the irrationality of the whole, the real destructiveness of his behavior. And, in combination with that, was able to learn how to deal with
that stress – the kinds of stress which had aroused this urge. He’d have to be able to pinpoint these urges, uh, the stimuli, and deal with or otherwise eliminate them from his daily life.
And he would have to change environments entirely. He could go to a kind of society or community that did not exert upon him the kinds of stresses and pressures which aroused his feelings of anger or hostility and doubt. . . uh, low self-esteem. I mean, if you could find that kind of environment or society, then we could expect that this person – this kind of person – would cease committing these kinds of crime.
HA: Like prison?
TB: It would be highly unlikely for the normal individual, especially one who is subject to these irrational and horribly destructive acts, to be able to confront himself in the way that I’ve described, because he’d be so caught up in this cycle – this vicious cycle that we’ve referred to so often, uh, of mur-. . . you know, of abduction, of possession, and murder. Self-recrimination. . . and back through it again and again.
He would not be able to step back from it and analyze it. And certainly – getting back to the question you asked before – he wouldn’t be able to seek help, because, as we said, this kind of person would not want to get caught.
And I doubt that; I know myself. . . I mean, I know that if someone came to me and told me that they’d done a large number of uh, committed a large number of serious crimes, that as a responsible member of society – even though I’m a psychiatrist – I would be obligated to turn this person in.
You would never know, but I think that’d be the response and that would be the professional and ethical response for that kind of thing. So if that individual understood that society does not really treat – would not treat him in his attempt to rehabilitate himself or make him whole to normal again – but, instead, would punish him or attempt to kill him, it’s highly unlikely that he would or could seek out help.
In fact, he might hold out the possible belief that he could deal with the problem himself. But, as I said, it’s unlikely he’d be able to confront it because he would be enmeshed in that continuing cycle of the building of an urge, the commission of a crime, and so on and so forth.
HA: Getting to another subject briefly, I read an interesting evaluation of you by a former friend of yours, a woman writer, and she. . .
TB (interrupts): Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t know where in hell she got her facts about me, about anything – but she approached me and wanted me to contribute to the book she was writing. I’m just glad I didn’t waste my time. The sheep dip she calls fact! I don’t care who you are, if you can’t see that the great bulk of my personality is alert and vital and reality-oriented and normal, then there’s really something wrong with your analysis or whatever psychiatric model you’re trying to use. I do have a conscience. It may have gaps in it, but I have a very strong conscience!
HA: What do you mean, “gaps in it”?
TB: Well, we all have gaps in our conscience. Some people feel guilty if they don’t come home right after work. Others don’t care if they stop off for a few beers. Some don’t care if they pick up a little something at the supermarket without paying for it. Some people wouldn’t be able to handle it. I, uh, stole textbooks when I was going to college. Some people couldn’t handle that.
HA: But to the more serious aspects of what you’ve done. . .
TB: I mean, I feel no guilt or remorse, but they don’t understand. She wants to adopt this theory that I’m just ashes inside – no conscience, just a shell. Anybody who believes that. . . that’s fine; they’re just doing me a favor.
HA: Why? How does that help you?
TB: What she’s doing – she’s saying this guy can’t function, right? He’s really. . . his function is going to go deeper and deeper into this compulsive state. This madness – and he’s devouring himself. He’s just falling apart. And that’s just perfect!
As long as the contemporary impression is that I’m just a, uh, incapacitated, uh, uh, incoherent – unable to handle myself or am no longer an energetic, healthy young man – then they’re always going to underestimate me. Always. They’ll never truly understand what makes me tick.
HA: What does it matter if anybody underestimates you? You’re in prison.
TB: If, if.
HA: I’m serious. What does it matter?
TB: Because it, just – it just matters a great deal (laughs). I want to be forgotten. I want people to forget me. I don’t want people to remember what I look like or what I sound like. I want them to think I’m just laying there on my bunk quivering. I hate the limelight, the news media.
Yeah, I knew how to battle in public and to use the media, but that doesn’t mean I liked it. I was fighting back. I always fight back.
HA: Speaking of fighting back, you’ve fought a damn good battle every time I’ve asked you this question. . . or even tried to weasel around about it. But we’ve got to get serious here.
How many are there, Ted? We’ve been back and forth over this for months. You say you want to tell us the truth for this book. The “third-person” ploy is understandable in that it protects you from further responsibility legally and your loved ones from further complications, but how can we manage to even understand the situation without having an idea of how many?
TB: I’m not going to commit myself. It’s an impossibility. I can’t.
HA: One of these days, all this is going to be moot. The only way you’re going to get out of this place is. . . well, I won’t say that because you might make a run for it some time. . . but you must – with your intelligence – realize that no appeal is going to work. And that they are going to eventually put you in that chair. How do you feel about dying?
TB: Well, nobody wants to die. . . but everybody will. I may live longer than you. If I don’t, I don’t. But I do have strong feelings, humane feelings, about society’s alleged right to take another human being’s life. The death penalty is motivated solely and exclusively by the perceived need of the state, the prosecution, and the victim, or uh, the family, to obtain revenge.
It’s an eye for an eye. There’s nothing more. It’s no deterrent. There’s no doubt it is an effective way of killing a person whom society has adjudged responsible for the crime. It does not and never will, restore any measure of compensation to the victim’s family or the state. None whatsoever.
HA: Well, if a person kills and kills and kills, and is finally caught, what should be done with him?
TB: I don’t know. I don’t know if anything should happen to. . . uh, uh.
HA: Well, you can’t – well, maybe you can, I don’t know – I started to say you can’t really claim that it’s proper to go around killing people all the time.
TB: No. It’s, it’s, it’s ultimately improper (laughs). You know, there’s probably no other behavior that society condemns more vigorously than killing of the kind, that, uh – well, society condones a lot of killing, in a massive scale in war, in abortion, and things like that. Even the slaughter of animals for its own food, but I guess I’m saying that if a given society or community has a reverence for life, it cannot be selective in how it applies that reverence.
It cannot have reverence for the two-year-old, but kill the fetus. It cannot have reverence for the victim’s life and kill the murderer. It’s inconsistent.
So if the life of the victim is worthwhile, then the life – the life of the killer is sacred as well. If society chooses not to observe that kind of consistency; it chooses to kill the fetus and preserve the infant and kill the murderer in retribution for the victim, then it must accept the consequences for the violence that it self-generates.
HA: You mentioned abortion. You were once involved in an abortion.
TB: Well, I think that society accepts. . . the majority of Americans seem to approve of abortion. We, uh, accept that as a necessary means of controlling population and we just say the fetus isn’t really alive. It’s really dehumanization, as it were. Society thus says it’s justifie
d.
1981
February 5
Bundy’s refusal to be more explicit is causing us problems with our editors. He has also complained to Carole that Hugh has been unrealistic and a bully.
Translation: He’s been ragging Ted for the truth. Since Bundy has begun repeating himself to Aynesworth, indirectly trying to discourage any further interviews, there have been no visits to the prison since November. Then a letter arrives, promising that he has prepared “those items you’re so interested in.” This turns out to be untrue.
HA: You don’t look so hot today. Have you been staying out late again? Here’s your CARE package for today. You can have my cigarettes. I’m going to quit.
TB: Just give me the opened one. I can always buy those here. I’ve got a little money in the account. There’s a few people who still love “The Bun.”
HA: I’ve heard.
TB (straining to see if the guard is outside the door, close enough to hear the conversation): I’ve got a problem. I’ve got this red-headed bull back there who enjoys pushing me in shit. He agitates some of the blacks. . . tries to turn them against me, but, of course, that won’t work because they know I’m down with them, but he’s pulling my chain every chance he gets.
A few days ago he came in and ripped down some extra-large pictures I had on the wall. Bobby Lewis (then Ted’s best friend on The Row) used to have twice as many, twice as big. But while he was doing it, he rattled around through my books and papers, loud-mouthing about “Wonder what we’ll find under here?” and “Don’t suppose Teddy is getting ready to run for it, is he?”
HA: I would imagine they would always roust you around. There can’t be any love lost. And I’m sure they resent the fact you play lawyer back there for other inmates. That might help your relationships with the inmates, but it won’t necessarily make you a hero to the management. And, let’s face it, some of those guards might even live over around Lake City.
Ted Bundy Page 22