Even before cracking it open, I knew I would enjoy MindHunter. Everything I yearn for in my stories—profiling, psychology, serial killers, enormous stakes, eventual justice—this book had it, only in real life. MindHunter is a gripping retelling of John E. Douglas’s life’s work as an FBI agent catching serial killers, and a genuine example of how, even within a bureaucratic organization like the FBI, conviction and passion can find new ways to solve long-standing problems.
John provides a plethora of examples of the work done by the Investigative Support Unit, formerly known as the Behavioral Support Unit. In each example he skillfully teaches the reader the techniques in profiling and psychology necessary to catch serial killers. Each case provides its own tension and sense of urgency while building on the previous examples. Tremendous props to the co-author, Mark Olshaker, for helping weave a narrative that captures the mounting stress John faces as he grows his unit. I often reread the extremely heartbreaking and inspiring cases, because in those cases you can feel how a man as overworked as John was could still push forward because of what was at stake.
What surprised me was the description of John’s growth, and how he became such a famous profiler. Despite a rough start, John eventually hones in on and polishes what he feels is his greatest asset: reading people. By focusing on that, studying psychology, and being what cops call a “blue flamer,” an ambitious agent eager to do good, John builds a nationally-renowned unit. I’m amazed by how much value his unit provides before the FBI has a chance to officially quantify his unit’s worth. Organizations often struggle with innovation because of the need to constantly justify the bottom line, so seeing John pave the way for innovation within the FBI is inspiring. At the end of the book, John describes how his obsession with his work came at the cost of his family. That concession makes someone like John, the man could see inside the mind of a killer, seem much more human.
Some Goodreads reviewers were miffed at John’s purported arrogance; I must have missed it. All I detected is a man who had worked extremely hard to solve cases no one else could solve. He understands what it means to be “dangerous.” His opinion on the death penalty is clearly affected by the cases he handled, but that’s what makes his opinion so convincing. He acknowledges that for all the work he’s done, he sees no evidence that people are born evil. Only that at some point, people become beyond redeemable, and often of no fault of their own.
John Douglas figured out what made a certain kind person tick. That’s all I needed to start the book. But like any good detective novel, the philosophy, the growth, the journey to mastery, and the underlying desire to do justice made it a book worth finishing.