Skidmore College psychology professor shares insight into how individuals react to acts of terror

SARATOGA SPRINGS -- The Boston Marathon bombings reminded Americans not only of how vulnerable their lives are, but also how precious.

But confronting the indiscriminate nature of death can cause some to react in unexpected ways.

It's a topic Skidmore College psychology professor Sheldon Solomon is familiar with; for more than 30 years, he has been studying the psychology of terror and how individuals react to both conscious and unconscious thoughts of death.

Inside his college office, Solomon works hunched over a keyboard, surrounded by the usual clutter of academics -- a wall of books, papers and empty coffee cups, a bike leaned against the wall.

From one stack, he retrieves the book he published one year after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks with his longtime friends Tom Pyszczynski and Jeff Greenberg, "In the Wake of 9/11: The Psychology of Terror."

Solomon was in Brooklyn when the World Trade Center towers fell. Three weeks later, the American Psychological Association asked the three men to do what Solomon calls the impossible -- to "explain why this happened, how Americans will likely respond and what we can do to ensure that it doesn't happen again."

The three scholars couldn't answer most of those questions, Solomon said, but based on their work -- well-documented in academic journals -- he believes they can confidently predict the ways Americans will react to the marathon bombings.

Terrorist attacks remind people of their mortality, Solomon said, and people go to great lengths to bury those reminders "under the psychological bushes."

While the carnage inflicted by a terrorist's bomb is literally violent, it is also symbolically violent and extends miles longer than shrapnel. Terrorists "choose their targets carefully," Solomon said.

In the month after Sept. 11, 2001, Blockbuster revenue reached a record high and drug and alcohol consumption spiked nationwide because people wanted to "tranquilize themselves with the trivial" and wipe the thought of death from their minds, Solomon said.

In the wake of Sept. 11, his studies showed pre-existing psychological disorders and prejudices were amplified for many individuals.

He believes his post-Sept. 11 research will run parallel with how Americans react to the attack on Boston and that their responses will range from rational -- staying away from the scene of a bombing -- to "somewhat non-rational," like crossing state lines to purchase firearms.

Then there are the irrational reactions, like that of the Arizona man who shot and killed a man shortly after Sept. 11 because the man was wearing a turban.

Solomon predicts anti-Islamic sentiment among Americans will rise and said flaring hostilities over gun regulations can "arguably be, in part, a reflection of non-conscious concerns about one's own mortality."

"I wouldn't be surprised if anti-immigration sentiment increased, and I think, to me, that's the most pernicious because it's psychologically so distant from the event itself," Solomon said.

The lingering effects of heightened hostilities are a strange contrast to the immediate aftermath of a terrorist attack, which Solomon said is usually uplifting in nature and brings out the best in people.

"If you were hungry, a chef would have tumbled out of a restaurant and fed you," Solomon said about the first day after the towers fell. "But by the end of the week in New York, everybody started hating everybody who was different."

It stems from one reaction to terrorism, he said, to embrace "cherished cultural beliefs and cultural icons." The downside of an otherwise good trait is hostilities can easily rise toward anyone with a different set of beliefs.

"If I admit that your beliefs are valid, I am literally undercutting the confidence with which I subscribe to my own," Solomon said, "and exposing myself to the same anxiety those beliefs were erected to reduce."

Terrorist attacks can also stir radical transformations in people who find a new appreciation for life.

"We realize what's really important, and it's not Facebook or whether I can get a raise. It's my family, my friends and the fact that it's a nice day and I got to take a walk," he said.

"Ancient monks worked with skulls on their desks," Solomon continued, shaking an empty paper coffee cup, "to be constantly reminded of the fleeting nature of life, in order to be maximally appreciative of it."

Join the Conversation