ended the shocks. As in the other experimental variations, such a result
would hardly be expected had the subjects’ motivations involved some
form of sadism or neurotic aggressiveness.^2
To Milgram’s mind, evidence of a chilling phenomenon emerges re-
peatedly from his accumulated data: “It is the extreme willingness of
adults to go to almost any lengths on the command of an authority that
constitutes the chief finding of the study.” There are sobering implica-
tions of this finding for those concerned about the ability of another
form of authority—government—to extract frightening levels of obed-
ience from ordinary citizens.^3 Furthermore, the finding tells us some-
thing about the sheer strength of authority pressures in controlling our
behavior. After witnessing Milgram’s subjects squirming and sweating
and suffering at their task, could anyone doubt the power of the force
that held them there?
For those whose doubts remain, the story of S. Brian Willson might
prove instructive. On September 1, 1987, to protest U.S. shipments of
military equipment to Nicaragua, Mr. Willson and two other men
stretched their bodies across the railroad tracks leading out of the
Concord, California, Naval Weapons Station. The protesters were con-
fident that their act would halt the scheduled train’s progress that day,
as they had notified Navy and railroad officials of their intent three
days before. But the civilian crew, which had been given orders not to
stop, never even slowed the train, despite being able to see the protesters
six hundred feet ahead. Although two of the men managed to scramble
out of harm’s way, Mr. Willson was not quick enough to avoid being
struck and having both legs severed below the knee. Because Navy
medical corpsmen at the scene refused to treat him or allow him to be
taken to the hospital in their ambulance, onlookers—including Mr.
Willson’s wife and son—were left to try to stanch the flow of blood for
forty-five minutes until a private ambulance arrived.
Amazingly, Mr. Willson, who served four years in Vietnam, does not
blame either the crewmen or the corpsmen for his misfortune; he points
his finger, instead, at a system that constrained their actions through
the pressure to obey: “They were just doing what I did in ’Nam. They
were following orders that are part of an insane policy. They’re the fall
guys.” Although the crew members shared Mr. Willson’s assessment
of them as victims, they did not share his magnanimity. In what is
perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the incident, the train crew filed
suit against him, requesting punitive damages for the “humiliation,
mental anguish, and physical stress” they suffered because he hadn’t
allowed them to carry out their orders without cutting off his legs.
Whenever we are faced with so potent a motivator of human action,162 / Influence