I currently have just shy of twenty thousand photographs on my iPhone, dating back to January 2011. This averages out at nearly five pictures a day or around one every two waking hours. I keep promising myself that one day I will start to declutter and ease the burden on my mobile and iCloud account. But my continual hesitation has a positive influence since this anthology of classic and not so epic views, smiling people, selfies and associated shite provides a reliable piece of social history – admittedly through the narrow prism of my own interests. Digital reminiscing has become multifaceted with sharing on social media platforms at the click of a button and automated albums magically appearing with an accompanying soundtrack. But I remember the days before the invention of the technology that we all now take for granted – when physical photographs and our own memories created our characterised canvass.
The earliest memory I can recall without the aid of a photograph is from around the age of three when my dad held me up so that I could see over a railway bridge wall, allowing me an unfettered view of the tracks below and the hustle and bustle of several trains approaching the platform. I am guessing that this scene is etched in my memory since I would have been aware of the excitement and danger associated with my little legs dangling above the ground.
Fast forward, at the top speed of the Japanese Shanghai Maglev train (also known as the Bullet train) to more recent times, having been asked to review a mysterious death in my capacity as a post-graduate criminologist I was reminded again of the unreliability of human recall. The former US Supreme Court Justice William J. Brennan once eloquently stated, “there is almost nothing more convincing [to a jury] than a live human being who takes the stand, points a finger at the defendant, and says ‘That’s the one!’” (Watkins v. Sowders 1981). In truth we are crap at remembering stuff, and often what we recollect is undermined by things we simply make up.
Recently flicking through an old family album, I smiled at my mum and recalled my earliest memory. She looked puzzled. Vividly describing the scene, sounds and the tangible fear, I was astonished to realise that my trigger recall was completely and utterly bogus.
As I reached into the void and reflected upon my academic credentials my immediate embarrassment and cognitive disorientation was somewhat calmed when I discovered that false memory implantation is a recognised psychological condition. A theorem generally highlights that we aren’t alone and for the time being I was reassured that I’m not necessarily insane! Research suggests that there may be several triggers that subsequently convince us that a memory is true. Doctor’s Elizabeth J. Marsh and Henry L. Roediger III (what a stonking name!) deduced that one of the most crucial causal moments is whilst the event is happening, and the emerging strands of the initial recollection are being encoded. This got me thinking. I remember as a very young kid being mesmerised by a train set. Nothing that sophisticated. Just a small oval track with a locomotive and maybe a couple of carriages. Most importantly, this was confirmed by my mum. Had my juvenile brain with its incendiary leaning towards imagination encrypted my excitement into something much more vivid? Albert Einstein may have inadvertently addressed this conundrum by pragmatically stating, “Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.” My destination on the earlier perceived childhood occasion − with my dad on the railway bridge − appeared to be la-la land. Although occasionally even adults can be swayed by this phenomenon, especially where the scene is swathed in stress.
Unconscious transference occurs when a different memory image becomes combined or confused with another. For example, in a highly charged crime in action such as a robbery, a witness can incorrectly identify a bystander or even someone else in a completely different context. More worryingly, research supports the notion that choosing the wrong individual during the initial identification process heightens the chances of that wholly innocent person being charged following wrongful selection on a line-up. There were, after all, significant benefits to conducting my banking online and not standing in a queue at the cashpoint minding my own fucking business.
(An example of a typical British police force identity parade)
Assumptions made during the event by applying existing knowledge can also revise latter recollection. I remember talking to a work colleague once − admittedly an odd ball − about one of my favourite shows, Star Trek: The Next Generation. After I had excitedly recounted the sensational final episode, he responded by quoting verbatim great chunks of the dialogue. In a trance like state I obediently nodded, forcing a grin but thinking had I actually seen the same programme? Then again have you ever met a Trekkie on speed?
We are also hot-wired to isolate meaning from events, even the mundane, and this can often lead to misperceptions about what was assumed versus what actually happened. For example − packing your holiday bag with sun cream, swim gear, flip-flops, beach towel, and a book, ready to soak up the rays only to discover that you forgot your shades. We are more often than not convinced that lists of associated items include missing things. This lapse of memory has cost me a small fortune!
Even after memories have been stored, later retrieval may be impeded by future occurrences or interventions fuelled by another. For instance, in the early 1990s research by, amongst others, Professor Elizabeth F. Loftus of University of California, Irvine, in her work on the reality of repressed memories, concluded that some psychotherapy patients could be mistakenly persuaded by their therapists that they had experienced sexual abuse in childhood and recover corresponding memories of events that had not occurred. Us oldies aren’t necessarily immune from this suggestibility either especially if our inner child is targeted. We all have, to varying degrees, the subconscious ability to act like a toddler and contained within this human characteristic is the need to please, especially those we look up to or hold an office of responsibility. I am glad to say that my mischief marker remains high, and it takes little encouragement for it to come out to play. In a classroom setting I have often seen this impish quality come to the fore when I have asked a group of adults to recall the description of someone they have previously been talking to. Shoving a descriptive form under their noses, signposting them to recall even the headline features such as height, build and clothing, lead to at best a collection of guesses. I can guarantee that most people will recall footwear as trainers of some description (usually white) even if the individual was wearing hobnail boots. Similarity bias, where we make continual comparisons to earlier episodes in our lives have a propensity to jumble up and confuse our memories.
Within a criminal justice context, research undertaken in the late 1980s concluded that a staggering three hundred out of five hundred (60%) of erroneous convictions were down to eyewitness error. Later research, published in 1998, revealed that evidential DNA results cleared twenty-four out of twenty- eight people (86%) who had previously been identified via eyewitness testimony.
If all these revelations send a shiver down your spine and make you recall the genuinely scary time that you got utterly lost in an unfamiliar and terrifying place, don’t fret, as this is probably bollocks too.
In an experiment conducted by our busy Professor Elizabeth Loftus and social scientist Jacqueline Pickerell, published in 1995, close family members outlined several accurate and verifiable life events that the eventual interviewees had experienced. The subjects were then interviewed about the factual experiences alongside one completely false scenario that engaged with the premise that they, as a youngster, had got utterly lost during a visit to a shopping centre. Of the twenty-four primary participants more than a quarter recalled some information about the phony situation. Successive tests, engaging with falsehoods of religious ceremonies, hot air balloon rides and even receiving an enema in childhood reported the same trend. Isn’t it simply terrifying that you could erroneously recall, or even contemplate, having water thrust up your asshole to encourage the emptying of your bowel? A shitty experience on any level.
So, what can we believe? As Oscar Wilde put it, “Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us,” but to be perfectly frank I’m beginning to think that my life story, according to me, is about as dependable as a Bill Clinton initial recollection of his association with Monica Lewinsky, a Lance Armstrong memory of drug dependency or a Boris Johnson statement in the Houses of Parliament.
I am also beginning to think that anything prior to January 2011, without the conclusive proof of a photograph on my iPhone, is decidedly dodgy.
But before I leave you to ponder your own navel − one last point! Test your own eyewitness capability. What is the order (left to right) of the identification parade photograph that appeared a few paragraphs back? And what colour is the hallway carpet?
© Ian Kirke 2022
@ianjkirke
Title photograph by Anita Jankovic on Unsplash