Geoffrey C. Bunn

Though advertised as "a social history of the lie detector," Geoffrey Bunn's book might be more accurately described as a description of its origins and the contemporary reaction to its invention. Beginning with the changing views of what criminals were in the 19th century, he describes the origins of the lie detector in the growing recognition that anyone could potentially be a criminal, and the need to discover deception that came from such a revelation. Bunn goes on to recount the development of the machine, including the contesting claims of different inventors, before concluding abruptly with a consideration of some of the epistemological issues arising from such devices. While interesting and informative, it ultimately fails to deliver on the promise of its subtitle, one that hopefully will be met by other authors; if nothing else, Bunn demonstrates just how valuable such a work could be.… (more)

The Lie Detector, as an element in crime dramas and public imagination, seems like it ought to be rich ground for a history. With multiple "inventors" of the same "machine" (or techniques) all claiming to have been first (one of which was also the creator of "Wonder Woman" and her "Golden Lasso of Truth"), and coming of age in the heyday of the 1930s wave of organized crime, this should be a fascinating look at a somewhat mystical invention. Instead, it's a dull and tedious compilation of information.

First, bear in mind that although this is part of the "Johns Hopkins Studies in the History of Technology" series, it is a "Social History" of the machine. There is very little in the way of technical discussions of why the Lie Detector or Polygraph might or might not work. Instead, we are treated to a history of the science of Criminology from the mid 1800s to about 1940, beginning with science's embarrassing ideas of phrenology (the study of bumps on a person's skull as evidence of character traits) and eugenics (the racist pursuit of improving humanity through selective breeding). The idea prevalent in the 1800s of the "born criminal" or "criminal class of society" is discussed in great depth, and the actual "truth machine" doesn't even really make a substantial entrance until nearly 100 pages into this (thankfully) short book. But even then the various inventors are discussed in a way that failed to ignite any of the interest I once had when I ordered this book. There is almost no information on how it is still used today outside of brief mentions that O. J. Simpson's testimony was subjected to tests and a still from an episode of "The Simpsons."

If you're looking for any kind of objective evaluation of the Lie Detector, how it works or how credible it might be (and why or why not), you'll be sorely disappointed by this book. Having read another Johns Hopkins book (on the history of malaria), which turned out to be very enjoyable, I had high hopes for this one. For me the only bright point in the book came when it discussed the effect criminology had in much of the Victorian literature (most of which I was familiar with), but that was about it. Unfortunately I had to push myself to finish it just so I could move on to something more interesting.… (more)

The Lie Detector, as an element in crime dramas and public imagination, seems like it ought to be rich ground for a history. With multiple "inventors" of the same "machine" (or techniques) all claiming to have been first (one of which was also the creator of "Wonder Woman" and her "Golden Lasso of Truth"), and coming of age in the heyday of the 1930s wave of organized crime, this should be a fascinating look at a somewhat mystical invention. Instead, it's a dull and tedious compilation of information.

First, bear in mind that although this is part of the "Johns Hopkins Studies in the History of Technology" series, it is a "Social History" of the machine. There is very little in the way of technical discussions of why the Lie Detector or Polygraph might or might not work. Instead, we are treated to a history of the science of Criminology from the mid 1800s to about 1940, beginning with science's embarrassing ideas of phrenology (the study of bumps on a person's skull as evidence of character traits) and eugenics (the racist pursuit of improving humanity through selective breeding). The idea prevalent in the 1800s of the "born criminal" or "criminal class of society" is discussed in great depth, and the actual "truth machine" doesn't even really make a substantial entrance until nearly 100 pages into this (thankfully) short book. But even then the various inventors are discussed in a way that failed to ignite any of the interest I once had when I ordered this book. There is almost no information on how it is still used today outside of brief mentions that O. J. Simpson's testimony was subjected to tests and a still from an episode of "The Simpsons."

If you're looking for any kind of objective evaluation of the Lie Detector, how it works or how credible it might be (and why or why not), you'll be sorely disappointed by this book. Having read another Johns Hopkins book (on the history of malaria), which turned out to be very enjoyable, I had high hopes for this one. For me the only bright point in the book came when it discussed the effect criminology had in much of the Victorian literature (most of which I was familiar with), but that was about it. Unfortunately I had to push myself to finish it just so I could move on to something more interesting.… (more)

The Lie Detector, as an element in crime dramas and public imagination, seems like it ought to be rich ground for a history. With multiple "inventors" of the same "machine" (or techniques) all claiming to have been first (one of which was also the creator of "Wonder Woman" and her "Golden Lasso of Truth"), and coming of age in the heyday of the 1930s wave of organized crime, this should be a fascinating look at a somewhat mystical invention. Instead, it's a dull and tedious compilation of information.

First, bear in mind that although this is part of the "Johns Hopkins Studies in the History of Technology" series, it is a "Social History" of the machine. There is very little in the way of technical discussions of why the Lie Detector or Polygraph might or might not work. Instead, we are treated to a history of the science of Criminology from the mid 1800s to about 1940, beginning with science's embarrassing ideas of phrenology (the study of bumps on a person's skull as evidence of character traits) and eugenics (the racist pursuit of improving humanity through selective breeding). The idea prevalent in the 1800s of the "born criminal" or "criminal class of society" is discussed in great depth, and the actual "truth machine" doesn't even really make a substantial entrance until nearly 100 pages into this (thankfully) short book. But even then the various inventors are discussed in a way that failed to ignite any of the interest I once had when I ordered this book. There is almost no information on how it is still used today outside of brief mentions that O. J. Simpson's testimony was subjected to tests and a still from an episode of "The Simpsons."

If you're looking for any kind of objective evaluation of the Lie Detector, how it works or how credible it might be (and why or why not), you'll be sorely disappointed by this book. Having read another Johns Hopkins book (on the history of malaria), which turned out to be very enjoyable, I had high hopes for this one. For me the only bright point in the book came when it discussed the effect criminology had in much of the Victorian literature (most of which I was familiar with), but that was about it. Unfortunately I had to push myself to finish it just so I could move on to something more interesting.… (more)