The Milgram Experiment

Mr. Stein sat at his mahogany desk holding a large silver ball in his hand. His large office was, as usual, dark and silent. The heavy silk drapes were drawn, blocking out any light the setting sun had to offer. There was a small desk lamp on his desk which released a feeble light, giving the room an eerie glow. The office was finely furnished; leather couches, though rarely used, stood in front of the windows, intricately carved bookcases lined the walls, and a bear-skin rug draped the wooden floor. Mr. Stein observed all this through the reflection on the silver ball in his hand. He had practically lived in this office for the last twenty years. He used to love it. It had been a source of pride and joy. Now, looking at it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to in the past few weeks- ever since that fateful trip to Boston…1

A light tap on the door penetrated Mr. Stein’s thoughts. Startled, he hurriedly placed the silver ball down and struggled to don a calm countenance. Clearing his throat, he said in what he hoped was his usual stony voice. “Come in.”2

“Sir, dinner is ready…” the voice trailed away as its owner caught sight of Mr. Stein’s peculiar expression. Mr. Stein’s housekeeper appeared in the doorway. Short, brunette, and petite, Ms. Liza had grown to be the closest thing to a friend Mr. Stein had. For ten years, she had served him faithfully, but she had never seen him behave the way he had been acting in the past few weeks. He behaved moody and aloof, barely saying a word as the days passed. Ever since that trip he took, actually… Her brow crinkled as she tried to determine the cause.3

“I’ll be coming in a minute.” Mr. Stein’s voice was even and controlled, but it sounded as if it was taking a considerable amount of his effort.4

“Sir, are you okay? You seem a little…” She abruptly stopped mid-sentence, silenced by Mr. Stein’s bright calculating eyes. Had they become bluer, or was it just a trick of the light? Ms. Liza waited for Mr. Stein’s harsh reply she was sure would follow, but instead, she was surprised by a different response.5

“I am not okay. I will never be okay.” He said it softly, in almost a whisper. Mr. Stein’s mind raced. Memories of what had happened weeks ago- had it really been several weeks? It felt like yesterday- memories he had been trying to forget for weeks came rushing back all at once.6

* * * * * *7

Things didn’t have to be how they were. His trip to Boston could have ended normally, and nothing would have changed. It could have happened so easily. If only his business meeting hadn’t ended late, or if he hadn’t decided to stop for coffee before heading back to his hotel, or if he had waited just a second later before stepping on the accelerator, his life wouldn’t have taken the sharp turn that it did. As it happened, his meeting was late, he stopped for coffee, and his car scraped against George Henderson’s shiny Lexus seconds before Mr. Stein pulled out of the Starbucks parking lot. Both Mr. Henderson and Mr. Stein stepped out of their cars to inspect the damages. When George Henderson saw the long gash along the side of his brand new car, he almost cried. He looked helplessly at the scratch when Mr. Stein walked up to him.8

“I’m sorry. I can pay for the damages.” Mr. Stein said as he handed Mr. Henderson his insurance card. He said it in a rather impatient voice in between glances at his watch. Mr. Henderson had no doubt that this man could pay for the unsightly gash along the side of his vehicle. In fact, by the look of Mr. Stein’s Armani suit, gold-plated watch, and Lincoln town car, it appeared as if he could replace the car. What bothered Mr. Henderson was the blaring insincerity of the apology. Mr. Henderson viewed his car as a person with feelings as deep and important as any other friend of his. The fact that Mr. Stein did not feel the same way bothered him tremendously. It was these thoughts that propelled Mr. Henderson’s reply.9

“I am sure you can. I’ll call the insurance company. But I was also wondering if you would like to be a part of an experiment with me. Tomorrow, at Yale University.” 10

The suggestion startled Mr. Stein. With the business of Mr. Henderson’s car taken care of, he saw no reason to spend time with this man or conduct any “experiment” with him. His doubt must have shown on his face. Just as he was formatting his refusal, Mr. Henderson continued, “The experiment will be conducted by Professor Hames, a very distinguished professor of physiology at Yale, and a good friend of mine. It will take twenty minutes, tops.” The look on Mr. Stein’s face hadn’t changed. “It would make up for my car,” Mr. Henderson added.11

“I-I’ll see,” was Mr. Stein’s uncommittal response. He had absolutely no intention of spending his morning being a part of some obscure experiment. By promising to pay for the man’s car, Mr. Stein felt as if he owed nothing to Mr. Henderson. With these last thoughts, Mr. Stein stepped into his car and drove away without sparing Mr. Henderson another look.12

* * * * * *13

Mr. Stein didn’t know why it happened the next day. Perhaps Mr. Henderson had done it on purpose, determined to get Mr. Stein to participate in his experiment. Perhaps it was destiny. Or maybe it was just an ironic coincidence. Either way, the next morning Mr. Stein found himself eating his breakfast at the same time, at the same place, as Mr. Henderson. It was a stroke of luck for Mr. Henderson that he spotted Mr. Stein before Mr. Stein spotted him; if Mr. Stein had known they were at the same restaurant, no doubt he would have left before Mr. Henderson had a chance to corner him. It was during this fateful meeting at breakfast that Mr. Stein found himself, once again, in a very awkward conversation with Mr. Henderson. 14

“Well, look who’s here! Eating a good healthy breakfast before heading down to Yale, eh?” Mr. Henderson’s voice was confident and steady. He had a knack for making people uncomfortable, and he used this talent often.15

“Actually, I was just about to head back to my hotel. I’m afraid I don’t have time for your experiment today,” said Mr. Stein. Although he considered himself an accomplished liar, Mr. Henderson’s presence caught him off guard. His voice sounded uneasy, and he had a funny feeling Mr. Henderson knew he was lying. 16

“Now, Mr. Stein. The Milgram Experiment is an extremely interesting psychological experiment. Professor Hames is more than qualified to conduct it. It would make me very happy if you took just a little time out of your busy schedule to join us. I don’t think anyone as professional as you has volunteered for the experiment.” It was the flattery that did it. Mr. Stein was going to give in, and both the men knew it. Mr. Stein’s last attempts to quell the request were honorable, but in vain. The look in Mr. Henderson’s eyes could only be described as victorious. 17

“I suppose I could spend just a min-” Mr. Stein began.18

“Wonderful! Follow me!” Mr. Henderson said, cutting him off. Mr. Stein hesitantly followed Mr. Henderson out of the crowded restaurant and into the parking lot. “It’s just a short drive from here, if you would like to follow in your car.” Mr. Stein nodded curtly and stepped into his vehicle. He felt as if he was wasting his precious time, and already regretted the split-second decision. Little did he know what was to come…19

After reaching Yale University, Mr. Henderson led through a series of open hallways until the they reached a large classroom. Mr. Henderson held the door open and ushered Mr. Stein inside. He began to cautiously step into the room, only to be pushed in by Mr. Henderson. The room was packed. A strange assortment of men and women sat on chairs around the edges of the room, all waiting for something. The scene reminded Mr. Stein of visits to dentists’ offices as a child, and he immediately felt a strange sense of foreboding. He was looking for a seat that was not too conspicuous, when a tall balding man slightly older than Mr. Stein walked into the room. He wore a black, expensive suit and had a very distinguished manner. The man walked directly to Mr. Stein and Mr. Henderson. “Why, Mr. Henderson, finally. You said you were interested in being a part of the experiment?”20

“Definitely. I’ve brought a friend of mine, too. Mr. Stein barely restrained himself from snorting out loud. Friend, he thought. Right. Mr. Henderson continued with the introduction. “Professor Hames, meet Mr. Stein. Mr. Stein, this is Professor Hames.” The professor held his hand out, and Mr. Stein cautiously shook it. 21

“Follow me,” Professor Hames said, and Mr. Stein once again found himself walking down winding hallways. Finally, they reached another, smaller room. This room was relatively empty, with only a desk, a computer, a chair, and a strange machine with many wires. As the three men reached the room, Professor Hames began to explain the experiment. Mr. Stein had to admit that he was interested. He had always found the wonders of the human mind very fascinating.22

The experiment would begin with Professor Hames writing the words “teacher”, and “student” on two separate slips of paper. Mr. Stein and Mr. Henderson would each randomly select a slip of paper. The teacher would control the computer, and the student would walk to the adjacent room and connect himself to the machine. The teacher would begin to recite words to the student via speaker. The student would repeat the teacher’s words. If the student could not repeat the words correctly, the teacher would press a button on the computer that produced an electric shock to the student’s chair. Each time the student could not remember the words, the teacher would shock the student with a higher voltage. “This experiment,” Professor Hames explained, “will test the student’s ability to think under pressure.” 23

Mr. Stein nodded slowly, eager to begin. Professor Hames pulled two slips of folded paper from his pocket, placing them in his hand. Mr. Stein and Mr. Henderson each took one. In small, scrawly handwriting, the word “teacher” was written on Mr. Stein’s slip of paper. Slightly relieved, Mr. Stein took his seat next on the desk, while Mr. Henderson, apprehensive for the first time, left the room to sit in the room next door. “Now,” Professor Hames said, “I will shock both of you at a voltage of forty watts, just to test the system.” Before Mr. Stein could process Professor Hames’s words, he felt a shock of searing pain permeate his spine. Although the sensation only lasted for seconds, the pain sent aftermaths of shock through his body. It was the worst pain Mr. Stein had ever experienced. “Are you ready for the experiment?” Professor Hames’s voice brought Mr. Stein out of his trance, and he gave Professor Hames a shaky nod. The quicker he began, he reasoned, the quicker he could leave. He read the first pair of words out loud, and immediately heard Mr. Henderson respond correctly. He continued with the second pair, with the same result. The third pair yielded an identical response. 24

It was the fourth pair of words that finally tripped up Mr. Henderson. Taking pleasure in finally being able to use his power, Mr. Stein clicked on the red fifty volt button. The result of his action was instantaneous. Mr. Henderson let out a yelp of pain. Mr. Stein threw Professor Hames a skeptical look. “Please continue,” was Professor Hames’s calm response. Nodding, Mr. Stein directed his eyes to the next set of words.25

So the experiment continued. The first shock seemed to throw off Mr. Henderson’s concentration, and as time went on, he began getting more and more words incorrect. As Mr. Stein continued to administer the shocks, Mr. Henderson’s screams of pain became progressively louder and longer. Upon reaching 250 volts of electricity, Mr. Henderson began banging on the walls, begging for mercy. There were many times when Mr. Stein considered asking Professor Hames if it was moral to subject Mr. Henderson to so much pain, but Professor Hames’s calm eyes and constant refrain of “please continue” silenced Mr. Stein’s doubts. If Professor Hames thought that the experiment was fine, then Mr. Stein had no doubt that everything was well. Still, Mr. Henderson’s yells made Mr. Stein uneasy. He fidgeted guiltily in his chair, trying his best to block out Mr. Henderson’s pleads. Finally, he clicked on the last button, delivering Mr. Henderson a shock of 450 volts. There were no screams, no yells, no pleads of mercy, only silence. The seconds passed. At last, Mr. Stein turned in his chair to face Professor Hames. The fear in his eyes was clearly apparent. “What happened?” he whispered. Horrible thoughts were whipping through his mind at super speed. He had killed Mr. Henderson, he would go to court, go to jail, his life was over. Professor Hames cleared his throat expectantly, cutting off Mr. Stein’s thoughts before he could imagine worse things.26

The professor’s voice was barely a whisper as he explained. “You have been a part of an experiment called Milgram’s experiment. It has been repeated countless times since it first appeared 1963. Essentially what the experiment does is test the willingness of study participants to obey an authority figure who instructs them to perform acts that conflict with their personal conscience. Had the shock machine been connected, it would have administered enough shock to Mr. Henderson to kill him.” Mr. Stein stared at Professor Hames in horror. He didn’t hear the rest of his explanation. Those six words repeated themselves in his head a thousand times, “enough shock to kill Mr. Henderson…”27

* * * * * *28

“Mr. Stein? Mr. Stein?” Ms. Liza’s voice jerked Mr. Stein abruptly out of his thoughts. Her questioning eyes met Mr. Stein’s, and he suddenly remembered where he was. 29

“I’ll be ready for dinner in a minute,” he said to Ms. Liza in a shaking voice. As she left his room quietly, he stared back into the large silver ball, but the echoes of Mr. Henderson’s screams didn’t disappear. 30