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Sara Eckel

Tuesday, Mar 22, 2005 11:25 PM UTC2005-03-22T23:25:00Zl, M j, Y g:i A T

The devil wore J. Crew

A new book says that sociopaths aren't just Scott Peterson and BTK. They are your neighbors, bosses -- even therapists.

The devil wore J. Crew

It sounds like a treatment for a creepy psychological thriller: a world in which one in every 25 people walks through life without a drop of human compassion. On the outside, these creatures appear perfectly normal. They get married, buy homes, hold down jobs. But on the inside, they’re morally bankrupt and completely unrestricted by conscience. They can do absolutely anything — lie, steal, sabotage — without feeling a shred of guilt or remorse.

Harvard psychologist Martha Stout, Ph.D., says this is not science fiction. In her controversial new book, “The Sociopath Next Door: The Ruthless Versus the Rest of Us,” Stout claims that 4 percent of the population are sociopaths who have no capacity to love or empathize. Using composites pooled from her research to illustrate her points, Stout details the havoc sociopaths wreak on unsuspecting individuals — marrying for money, backstabbing co-workers, or simply messing with people for the fun of it. The fact that most of us never suspect our friends and neighbors of sociopathy only makes the transgressions easier to pull off.

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Wednesday, Jun 16, 2010 1:01 AM UTC2010-06-16T01:01:00Zl, M j, Y g:i A T

“Cheapskate Next Door”: The cheapskate’s revenge

The recession turned scorned penny pinchers into heroes. We look at why they're happier, and greener, than you

"Cheapskate Next Door": The cheapskate's revenge

Before the economy imploded, cheapskates were considered a pitiful bunch — frumpy coupon moms racing across town to save 19 cents on baby wipes, joyless penny-pinchers subsisting on ramen noodles. Meanwhile, the cool kids were starting wine collections and equipping their homes with plasma TVs and stainless-steel kitchen appliances.

Then, in the drop of a Dow Jones average, frugality suddenly became fashionable, and all those still-unpaid-for off-road vehicles and granite countertops became symbols of foolishness and excess, rather than success. Lifestyle sections brimmed with redemptive stories of former mortgage brokers/derivatives traders/entertainment publicists who had suddenly discovered the humble joys of family game night and three-bean soup. The general conclusion: We had all overextended ourselves, and now we all must learn a new way.

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