The Psychology of Dexter - Bella DePaulo [48]
DEXTER: I just like being alone.
HARRY: But most normal people don’t, and it’s important that you seem normal.
DEXTER: Even though I’m not.
HARRY: Because you’re not. (“Love, American Style,” 1-5)
As the series has continued, we have seen a progressive evolution of Dexter’s character and his attitudes toward engaging with other people. This evolution evokes the distinction made by German philosopher Martin Buber between Ich-Es (“I-It”) and Ich-Du (“I-Thou”) relationships.27 Buber suggested that we attain a form of spiritual, even religious, transcendence when we move from treating another person as an exploitable thing (an “It”) to engaging with that person as a being of intrinsic worth (a “Thou”). Dexter yearns for such transcendence, to emerge from his self-imposed cocoon, even though it presents clear risks:
The relationships I cultivate . . . They’re not just disguises anymore. I need them, even if they make me vulnerable. (“The British Invasion,” 2-12)
The Dark Passenger’s been fighting against it, trying to keep me all to himself. But it’s my turn now, to get what I want. To embrace my family. And maybe one day, not so long from now, I’ll be rid of the Dark Passenger. It all begins with a getaway. Time away from the old me. (“The Getaway,” 4-12)
However, we have seen that Dexter’s attempts at forming relationships—such as with Lila (season two) and Miguel Prado (season three)—have typically led to tragic results. This pattern culminated with the death of Rita at the hands of Arthur Mitchell, the Trinity Killer, which clearly could have been avoided had Dexter not engaged with Mitchell in the first place. We witness Dexter’s optimism about starting a new life, sans the Dark Passenger, quickly dissipate after discovering Rita’s body:
Harry was right. I thought I could change what I am; keep my family safe. But it doesn’t matter what I do, what I choose . . . I’m what’s wrong. This is fate. (“The Getaway,” 4-12)
The loss of Rita in some ways reset Dexter to his beginnings. Rita can no longer act to constrain his violent impulses or reinforce his positive behaviors. Robbed of his long-term partner, he must work hard if he is to develop another, similar relationship. Dexter’s return to a fatalistic outlook in “The Getaway” (“I’m what’s wrong”) may create strong reluctance to engage in this process and reveal himself to a new woman, for fear of hurting a new partner (or himself) by being honest. But whether he withdraws inwardly, embracing the Dark Passenger, or expands outwardly, finding solace in those who love him, Dexter’s self will continue to grow and change. For all of us, creating and maintaining a cohesive sense of self is a work in progress.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sincere thanks are due to Clarissa Thompson and Sabrina Bellhouse, both excellent psychologists and dedicated Dexter fans, for their constructive comments on an earlier version of this manuscript.
Stephen D. Livingston, BSc, MA, is a social psychologist and science writer with expertise in the domains of prejudice and persuasion. He studied biology and psychology at the University of Winnipeg, and social psychology and political science at the Ohio State University. He was most recently an assistant professor of psychology at the University of Toronto Scarborough. You can read more of his writing in Tinted Lenses—a blog that discusses bias in everyday life—at www.PsychologyToday.com.
Is there hope for someone as damaged as Dexter? Jeremy Clyman argues that there is. Dexter has three angels in his life—Camilla, Debra, and Rita. They all truly care for him. Collectively, they have the potential to persuade Dexter that the world is actually not so terrible, and neither is he.
THE ANGELS ON HIS SHOULDER
JEREMY CLYMAN
Dexter is a likable serial killer of killers. This is a statement of the obvious. But let’s not let this single characteristic—the tendency to kill—dictate