Abstract

On July 14, 2015, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) spacecraft “New Horizons” neared the end of its long odyssey having taken approximately 9½ years to travel some 3.3 billion miles from Earth to the dwarf planet of Pluto (Lakdawalla, 2015; Penberthy, 2015). Following its fly-by of Pluto, groundbreaking data started to be transmitted back to Earth revealing the previously unknown existence of gigantic mountains and chasms (Nally, 2015). When considering the magnitude of the logistics and resources necessary for this venture, one question that arises is why was this necessary? That is, on Earth there exist numerous gargantuan sized astronomical observatories equipped with mystifyingly sophisticated instrumentation and computers for studying the universe. With the availability of such resources, why embark on the long methodologically arduous task of physically sending a space probe? Presumably, it would have been obvious to simply direct any number of the Earth’s great telescopic instruments such as the Mauna Kea, Arecibo, or VLT 1 at Pluto. This seems especially pertinent as these installations routinely study deep space phenomena well beyond the comparatively modest distance (in astronomical terms) between Pluto and the Earth. Consequently, how could a comparatively small space probe outperform the capabilities of the aforementioned behemoths? The short and simple answer is despite the technological wizardry of the Earth’s many observatories, none were capable of the discoveries accomplished by “New Horizons.”
Astronomy arguably represents one of the most egalitarian fields of science where the same raw data are equally apparent to the youngest child through to the most senior astrophysicist. All that is required is patience until sunset, and thereafter the identical moon, stars, and planets. 2 In contrast, the research obstacles to astronomy can be conceived as predominantly methodological in nature. While the same raw data readily appear in the heavens above, the real challenge is optimally accessing it for analysis. This circumstance has led to the development of a myriad of different astronomical instruments and optical tube designs for research purposes. As our understanding of the universe improved, it became apparent that different technological designs are better suited for studying different astronomical objects. Thus, the functions of different astronomical research instruments are akin to the idiom horses for courses. While the Hubble Telescope has captured amazingly detailed images of diffuse gaseous nebulae located in remote deep space, the best image it can provide of Pluto’s surface is little more than a mottled patchwork of colorful shapes (Penberthy, 2015). Consequently, the combined resources of the Earth’s great astronomical observatories could, at best, only provide vague impressions of Pluto. 3 Thus, to properly examine its topography required a different research mechanism altogether that could obtain the requisite type of data for studying such issues—hence, the necessity of “New Horizons.”
These concepts in astronomy and the obstacles to space exploration represent a poignant analogy to a conundrum surrounding contemporary research into the investigative practice colloquially known as “criminal profiling.” Over the past 50 approximate years, scholarly thought associated with the topic has been dominated by numerous research endeavors of varying methodological sophistication and disciplinary orientations largely concerned with the development of typologies and taxonomies of various crimes and associated offender characteristics (e.g., Douglas, Burgess, Burgess, & Ressler, 2013; Holmes & Holmes, 2002; Morganbesser & Kocsis, 2008; Palermo, 2004; Palermo & Kocsis, 2005; Ressler, Burgess, & Douglas, 1988). This broadly generic style of research has reflected the conceptual foundations for the development of various schools of thought and approaches to the practice of criminal profiling (Kocsis, 2007). Simply put, such typologies and taxonomies form, at least in some part, the interpretative bases upon which crime scene patterns of unsolved crimes are assessed and various suppositions concerning the characteristics of the unknown perpetrator(s) are thereafter formulated (e.g., Kocsis, 2006; Palermo & Kocsis, 2005; Turco, 1990).
However, in recent years, another stream of research has begun to emerge considering the concept of offender homology. In summary, the studies thus far conducted have struggled to find evidence supporting this assumed homology among offenders. These findings have thereafter been interpreted as the rationale for arguing that past approaches to criminal profiling that are supposedly reliant on the existence of this homology among offenders are therefore not functionally viable. The first factor to appreciate with this circumstance is that the principles surrounding these propositions are not inherently unreasonable. 4 The real conundrum is that to properly study the concept of offender homology and thus the relationship it holds with the practice of criminal profiling is a far more complex, and considerably more difficult task, than examining what has been undertaken thus far.
One example of these issues is how offender homology is conceptualized. All human beings exhibit a dimension of individual uniqueness, and thus statistical aggregations of the “typical” human being will never adequately describe any single person (Palermo, 2002). Despite this inherent diversity, numerous dimensions of commonality can be found within the human condition. Accordingly, what constitutes homology is a potentially variable and diffuse construct depending on what standard is adopted along a conceptual continuum between the unique and the common. Indeed, due to this point, Kocsis and Palermo (2015) even noted that past research appears to follow “a somewhat rigid interpretation of these concepts” (p. 314).
It is a host of such issues that underpin the concerns raised in Kocsis and Palermo (2015), wherein it was contemplated that the inability to find evidence of offender homology in past studies may be attributable to the circumstance that the analysed samples were, in fact, quite heterogeneous in nature and thus unlikely to find evidence of offender homology from the outset. That is, the analysed groups of offenders may have possessed the same label such as “sex offender” or even “serial sex offender,” but this does not necessarily mean that from a clinical forensic psychiatric/psychological perspective, the human beings who compromised these samples were properly classifiable as the same for the purpose of validly studying the concept of offender homology.
Accordingly, one of the most important points raised in Kocsis and Palermo (2015) originates from a single sentence towards the conclusion of the article where it was stated that: the answers to these propositions will require further intensive research into the issue of offender homology involving highly focused clinically orientated psychological/psychiatric assessments of each sampled individual and their criminal activities before being grouped together and, in turn, collectively studied under a less sophisticated legal/criminological label. (p. 326)
As explained in Kocsis and Palermo (2015), the research that has thus far been undertaken into offender homology may only reflect analyses of very different people who have perpetrated a crudely similar form of crime. Instead, what must be examined are samples of the same type of people who have perpetrated the same type of crime. Unfortunately, such analysis reflects a far more complex task than what appears to have been undertaken to date. Moreover, to robustly undertake such analysis will require very different and far more sophisticated forms of data sets than which are typically available through archival records and databases held by legal and criminal justice agencies throughout the world.
Consequently, rather than demonstrating the non-existence of offender homology, it needs to be questioned whether past studies may instead be an indication that the analysis of data derived from criminal justice sources is inadequate for properly studying the factors inherent to the concept of offender homology. 5 That is, such data seldom (if ever) systematically assess and record the clinical psychiatric/psychological milieu of variables incumbent to the evaluation of human beings (e.g., American Psychiatric Association, 2013). 6 These are not extraordinary arguments 7 but essentially represent a permutation of basic principles regarding the application of differing data sources for differing purposes in all manner of psychiatric/psychological/criminological research (e.g., Gadd, Karstedt, & Messner, 2011; Jennings & Reingle, 2014; Jupp, 1989; Jupp, Davies, & Francis, 2000).
It must, however, be noted that these observations should not be mistaken as a sweeping condemnation of the use of criminal justice data for research into the topic of criminal profiling. 8 Quite the opposite is in fact advocated (Kocsis, 2015). Instead, what is chiefly being flagged is that the usage of such resources must always be tempered with caution as invariably such data sources represent adaptations of their designed purpose. In this respect, the more theoretically sophisticated the research question is the more robust the data seeking to analyze it must be. Offender homology represents a complex issue; therefore, the data upon which any analysis is premised must be of a commensurately complex standard.
Finally, it also needs to be clearly understood that past research considering offender homology should in no way be disregarded. The purpose of Kocsis and Palermo (2015) was to create awareness that the findings thus far available may be artefacts of the analysed data. Notwithstanding this, the past research has served to illustrate numerous valuable issues. As already mentioned, it has brought into question the suitability of criminal justice data sources. In addition, the research has highlighted the relevance of context as a moderating influence on the expression of behaviors (e.g., Schlesinger, 2009). This, in turn, has also fostered some conceptual insight that the functional processes incumbent to the real-world practice of criminal profiling are most likely hybrid in nature involving multiple dimensions of analyses (Dern et al., 2009; Kocsis & Palermo, 2015). Finally, these factors accumulatively indicate that to properly decipher the deeper substance of the variables inherent to offender homology with respect to criminal profiling will not be a simple matter. 9 That is, these answers are unlikely to be found via the analysis of data solely derived from criminal justice databases and/or records. Irrespective of how fastidious a process of reconfiguring, recategorizing, and/or relabeling of such data, these procedures will have little effect on the immutable substance of the data itself. Simply put, such machinations will not be able to validly circumvent and thus obviate consideration of the diverse gamut of variables which, from a clinical forensic psychiatric/psychological perspective, make up human beings but who are routinely pigeon-holed together via legally formulated labels in criminal justice systems throughout the world (Kocsis & Palermo, 2015).
Accordingly, the conundrums surrounding the issue of offender homology and its relevance to the real-world practice of criminal profiling is remarkably analogous to the research endeavors in the science of astronomy and the obstacles to space exploration. The homology studies undertaken thus far are akin to the capabilities of the Earth’s many great astronomical observatories. Despite their immense technological sophistication, they are constrained by the fundamental nature of their design and thus originally intended applications. Although the Earth’s observatories (akin to criminal justice data sources) possess many very laudable merits when they are applied to the study of Pluto’s topography, they can only offer vague impressions of what is to be actually found on the planet’s surface. Akin to the obstacles faced by the “New Horizons” space probe mission to properly investigate the complexities inherent to the issue of offender homology, logistically difficult and equally arduous ventures will be required to solve the conundrum and thus go toward disentangling criminal profiling.
