Much of "The Hurt Locker" plays like a war drama on steroids. In this rollercoaster of testosterone, the primary theme is, "War is an addiction." Naturally, James, the protagonist and expert bomb disposer, is the addict. His brain only experiences calm when the world around him is exploding; he seems happiest when beginning that long, lonely march toward half-buried bombs. Such a risky world attitude often proves worrisome to those who value such societal norms as safety and order. On countless occasions those around James tag him as reckless and impulsive, inciting nicknames that range from the self-explanatory "Wildman" to the poetically understated "stupid piece of white trash." Judging by national reviews the media largely concurs with this personality assessment.
Further, personality bi-directionally ties into intelligence. James is an action junkie and, therefore, not too rational or bright. In some ways this appears to be true. He does dismiss army protocol more than he abides by it and he could definitely stand to be more self-reflective. The traditional world of intelligence testing would likely highlight these factors en route to a negative verdict. But this is problematic, because James is not stupid, reckless or even psychologically guarded. As this movie shows, quite the opposite is true. James is actually the smartest guy on the battlefield. Not only that but this unorthodox notion of amped up warrior as genius is illustrative of the dramatically evolving, 21st century image of intelligence.
The traditional tale of intelligence:
Like DNA exploration, the question of how to define and measure intelligence has only increased in complexity and nuance over time. The traditional and still dominant tale of intelligence unfolds like this: You take an IQ test, probably the WAIS (Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scales), and whatever score you earn reflects what is often taken to be an underlying and innate "smartness." This score influences resources and expectations, that is, you are placed in classes with teachers who expect less and have fewer resources to provide. Over the long-term, this can lock you into a specific academic and occupational trajectory.
For instance, it has been shown that if you hover just under the national average, 100, then you face a reasonably predictable future that does not excel far beyond a high school diploma and blue collar wages. FYI, the abilities believed to makeup intelligence are abstract reasoning (what is the next step in this pattern) and concrete reasoning (what is missing in this picture). Loading onto these variable are more precise functions, such as memory (recall the list of words I just told you), vocabulary (define what this means), motor skills (put this puzzle together) and awareness of time limits (do all of this in 30 seconds) to name a few.
This traditional perspective of intelligence suffers from tunnel-vision. It's all about cognition and the classroom. "The Hurt Locker" reflects a much broader and thorough perspective of skills and contexts that, ironically, shape an image of intelligence that is far more complex and slippery. This new-and-improved view emphasizes multiple, interconnected and fluctuating intelligences. No longer is intelligence simply that thing with which you are born, always at your fingertips, and capable of guaranteeing across-the-board success. Instead, the skills of intelligence can be greatly varied, learned and dependant upon context.
Robert Sternberg, one of the most prolific researchers in this field, offers a modern definition of intelligence: the ability to adapt to the current environment. This involves identifying the goal most worthy of pursuit and then executing the appropriate steps with effectiveness. "The Hurt Locker" chronicles a series of missions undertaken by a bomb disposal squad that escalate in danger and complexity. The mission is to diffuse bombs as quickly and safely as possible and to terminate nearby detonators as consistently and accurately as possible.
Without fail, every mission tells the same story of misattribution. James acts with unrivaled adaptively, often saving the team and surrounding civilians, while his squad members often commit numerous mistakes that heighten the level of danger. Then, James is scapegoated by his squad mates for being too dangerous. Ironically, the perceived hot head never loses his cool, even when one squad member punches James in the face and another blames him for getting shot in the leg by the enemy. More to the point, each instance in which James "loses his cool" is a misinterpretation of his intelligence.
Two examples:
A. James throws smoke grenades on one of his solo marches toward a handful of buried bombs. Sanborn, whose job it is to watch James' back, can no longer do so. However, in the service of bomb disposal, blinding the assassins hidden on rooftops seem far more effective than keeping intact the vision of disoriented teammates some fifty yards away.
B. James rips off his headset while attempting to disarm a carload of bombs. He recognizes that in order to unravel the hornet's nest of wires, he must practice patience and meticulousness. Sanborn's incessant, urgent commands about abandoning the bomb site are distracting.
These moments get pegged as reckless breaches of protocol, but from a purely analytic perspective, James is making socially smart decisions that are in the service of achieving the stated goals. The goal is to diffuse the bombs without getting shot, not manage Sanborn's anxiety with over-and-out responses. What is at work within James is a very high emotional intelligence (EI), one of the newest and most significant constructs in the world of modern intelligence. The technical definition of EI is the ability, capacity and skill to identify, assess and manage the emotions of self and others. Translated into English, this means that James is better than most at, among other things, compartmentalizing and mindreading.
Combat situations are high in stress, danger and ambiguity. Understandably, Sanborn and other members of the squad charged with protecting James are flooded with the anxiety of uncertainty and the fear of death. This emotional activation severs rational thought like a hot knife through butter, which is why the normally sane Sanborn experiences temporary insanity on the battlefield. He is a spectacle of stupidity: He screams a broken-record of simplistic instruction, he sprints from point A to point B like a decapitated chicken and he falsely accuses countless bystanders of being the enemy. This goes undiagnosed because it has infected everyone else as well, well, almost everyone.
All of this ineffective hyper-vigilance is a comical contrast to James' mindfulness. With a bomb in front of him, his focus is sharp, his mind is actively problem-solving and his actions are well-integrated. He controls any loose negative emotion and processes information like a really expensive computer. This is compartmentalization.
Further, as bullets fly and bombs tick, James is a perpetual source of empathic energy. He jokes and smiles when the tension is high. He prompts with calm encouragement those squad members who freeze with fear and when he and the now-capricious Sanborn are pinned in a dustbowl showdown with enemy snipers, James insists that Sanborn drink ALL the cherished juice. He is attuned and responsive to the emotional states and needs of others.
How can the smartest guy on the battlefield prove to be so widely and dramatically misperceived, especially when the very notion of intelligence is believed to be known within minutes of a passing conversation, readily identifiable from across a crowded room? Indeed, new insights and research about the construct of intelligence has changed things so dramatically that, in some cases, what was once "stupid" is now seen as "smart."
This movie not only highlights emotional intelligence as a value, but it sets up a convincing argument that such an underused, "unofficial" form of intelligence can be of optimal importance in the context of war. James' high EI not only causes an increase in diffused bombs and saved lives, but also seems to create the conditions for others to prosper. His contagious optimism spreads self-efficacy, a buffer against the all too common Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).
