The phenomenon of scientific fraud has to be studied within the context of neoliberal meritocracy. In this organisational system, the position of the individual within a group (society, university, etc.) is determined by his or her merits in terms of (economic) productivity. Although this sounds fair, neoliberal meritocracy leads to social inequality, unlimited competition between individuals, egoism, priority of quantity over quality, and the irrelevance of ethics. Within the world of scientific research, neoliberal meritocracy leads to sloppy or even fraudulent science, because it incites researchers to prioritize publication criteria before qualitative research.

Compartmentalization refers to a process by which groups of people are put apart from others. In these compartments violent acts could be committed with complete impunity. Although many genocidal periods are discussed, this book is actually about the Holocaust and what the author calls ‘compartmentalization of the personality’. How can it be explained that Nazis felt no regret or guilt? What are the personality traits of these mass murderers? What are their personal motives? According to the author these criminals cannot be termed ‘ordinary people’ who were brought to killings by the situation they were in or pressure exerted on them. Individual choice and self-selection play a role.

Journalists are accustomed to investigate and interpret current forms of violent conflicts and massacres. Psychologists and social scientists lag behind and seem to focus more on ‘remote’ forms of evil, often focusing on forms of authoritarian behaviour and obedience, especially related to the Holocaust. It is striking that reflections on collective violence are often ignored by criminologists. How can this ‘distance’ be explained? Why is there little incentive to study ‘evil’? In this introduction we first discuss the difficult issue of how to define ‘evil’ and we clarify its various meanings. Then we focus on the Holocaust, an oppressive theme that still instigates much debate. In particular, the thesis of the ‘banality of evil’ is controversial. This interest in appalling forms of mass destruction – by theologians, ethicists and historians – raises once again the question why criminological reflection and research of barbarity remains underdeveloped.

The author examines the thoughts of the originally Austrian author Jean Améry. After his concentration camp experiences Améry publicly acclaimed that he continued to resent the Germans. He felt abandoned and deeply overwhelmed and never recovered from these feelings. He refused to forgive and forget and practiced moral and physical rebellion.

The author points out that tribunals against war criminals are characterized by investigations of the broader military and social developments. By outlining the historical context of the violence the public is in a better position to make informed and balanced judgments. Criminal tribunals have a communicative character and great educational potential; they make clear why the Great Evil cannot be accepted and has to be punished.

Genocide is so cruel and extreme that a first natural reflex is to distance ourselves from the perpetrators and qualify them as deranged criminals, psychopaths and sadists – very different from us ordinary people. Although some of the perpetrators fit this description, most perpetrators are ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances who commit so-called crimes of obedience. A genocidal regime is usually led by a criminal mastermind, who is supported by a number of fanatics and opportunistic careerists who take advantage of the situation to make themselves a career. Many of these perpetrators are special cases who deliberately participated in the genocide. Perpetrators in the middle cadre as well as the rank and file members are however often very ordinary people who just go along and follow the flow out of ideological conviction, fear or material gain.

This article is about the ability of human beings to make a deliberate choice to do evil. Punishing evildoers according to penal law presupposes that they are responsible for their acts, i.e. that they acted out of free will. In the first part I recall the origins of the classical nexus between free will, responsibility and punishment in Christian theology and scholastic philosophy. Then I analyze the philosophies of Sade and Nietzsche in order to demonstrate how the traditional conception of good and evil can be inverted. Sades extreme moral relativism and Nietzsches radical perspectivism open the gates for a justification of moral evil. In the final part I look at the serial killer as an actor who deliberately chooses to do evil. The personality disorder (psychopathy) of most serial killers probably affects their inhibition to harm others. But although their lack of empathy can lower the threshold for harming others, this (mostly) does not annihilate their moral responsibility. Such can be exemplified by the fact that many serial killers are acting in an extremely strategic, opportunistic and deceitful way in order to ensure the persistence of their deliberate choice to do evil. Moreover, some serial killers, when justifying their behavior, engage in arguments putting into perspective ‘good’ and ‘evil’ in a way that is reminiscent of Sade and Nietzsche.

The central question of this contribution is whether slavery was considered in the Netherlands at the time as something normal, an argument which is often heard in debates about this phenomenon today. This paper shows that during the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, slavery was indeed something that happened far away from home, however, all the time voices could be heard in this country opposing at least the cruelties of the slave system, or even the basic incompatability of slavery and christianity. It even turned out to be a public problem with the hundreds of enslaved people who came over time with their owners from Suriname or the Dutch Antilles to this country, and after a while became free citizens, because in the Netherlands itself slavery was not allowed.
During the second part of the eighteenth century in literary and political Dutch circles the individual voices against (the cruelties of) slavery turned more or less into a choir. These opponents of the system were obviously influenced by and often fervent supporters of the Enlightenment and its ideals for mankind of freedom, equality and brotherhood. Eventually, however, in 1797 the revolutionary Dutch National Assembly in its first constitution voted against an article meant to abolish slave trade and slavery in the near future. It took more than two generations to finally settle this question in 1863.

The Classical Paradigm considers evil intentions as a necessary element of human evil, for instance the Holocaust. The Obedience Paradigm states that the main motive of the perpetrators of this evil was obedience to authority. The Ideology Paradigm argues that ideological motives were the main element. This paper tries to show that it is impossible to separate obedience and ideology in the motives of perpetrators like Adolf Eichmann and Otto Ohlendorf. These perpetrators were also conscious of the fact that they violated moral and legal norms. In that sense they had evil intentions and can be held responsible for their crimes.

The recent exhibition The Crime Was Almost Perfect in the Witte de With Center for Contemporary Art in Rotterdam, curated by Cristina Ricupero, focused on the dynamic relation between art (aesthetics) and crime (ethics). The review discusses the representations of crime in (some of) the exhibited art works and analyzes the ways in which the artists play with their (conflicting) meanings, ambivalences and ambiguities.

In this interview, Contantijn Kelk talks about his life and career in criminal law and the relationship between his work and the fine arts. More specifically, he talks about his friendship with the painter Constant Nieuwenhuys (1920-2005) who, like he himself, in his work demonstrated compassion and solidarity with the suspected, convicted and detained fellow human being.

Cultural criminology has shown an interest in the visual representation of perpetrators, victims and scenes of crime and punishment in the media. Relatively little attention has been paid to the visual representation of these subjects in the fine arts, however. This lacuna has been the inspiration for this special issue about the art of representation and the relationship between fine arts and criminology. Questions that are addressed include: What is the importance and meaning of representational art for the criminologist? It is conceivable that a criminological researcher would reformulate his or her research problem due to insights that have been articulated by artists? And, by the same token, is it possible that an artist would revise his or her representation because of scientific research? Or, are the doings of both independent of one another? Ultimately, this special issue is concerned with how representations of perpetrators, victims and scenes of crime and punishment come into being, which meaning these images have in different social and cultural contexts and what we, as criminologists, can contribute to them.

Life of a Hunter (c.1647) is an extraordinary painting by the young Dutch artist Paulus Potter. Its fourteen panels tell the tale of a well-heeled gentleman who likes to hunt and to kill “game” and “exotic” animals. The hunting world is turned upside down when the animals capture the hunter and put him on trial. He is condemned to death, roasted alive and doubtless consumed by the very creatures who had earlier been his quarry. In this essay we try to interpret Potter’s painting. Is it an allegory of the chaotic politics of the mid-17th century Dutch Republic? Does it represent an early modern animal trial? Our tentative conclusion is that Life of a Hunter expresses a Montaignian-inspired moment of transition in cultural attitudes towards human-animal relationships: its restricted vision of animal cruelty is not against animal cruelty tout court and its inversion of two links in the great chain of being is very far from being altogether pro-animal.

This paper explores the hypothesis that the process of rupture in Brazilian graffiti writer’s subculture resulting in different groups - pichadores, pixadores and grafiteiros - took place in two different, though complementary, stages. The first stage is the commodification of graffiti by successive media campaigns and its penal control by the state. The second stage - which may be considered as a side effect of the first one - consists of the emergence of a new transgressive pixação movement. Instead of merely writing or tagging their signatures and messages on the walls of the city, they claim the freedom of usage of the urban space and contest the importance that property has in the late modernity context.

An analysis is made of how the painting The Kleptomaniac (2005) by Marlene Dumas – especially through its title – represents a certain kind of criminal and what ethical implications this has. A discussion of art historical research on the genesis of the original Portrait of a kleptomaniac (ca. 1820) from which Dumas has taken the title for her painting, is followed by a discussion of the history of the concept of kleptomania in psychiatry and an analysis of how that concept is reproduced by Dumas’ painting and, in particular, its title: The Kleptomaniac. By giving a painting of a male face this title in 2005 a type of criminal is represented in a way that does not do justice to the history of the concept and the phenomenon itself. By mobilizing a contested and obsolete psychiatric concept for an artistic project, the ambiguity which the painter intended is not left intact but, in fact, destroyed by an allusive title which mystifies the subject while having a disorienting effect on the viewer of the painting.