I told him

My son told me two years ago he was a sociopath and how he “felt nothing.” Being the good, non-alarmest parent I am, I asked if this worried him. Naturally, he answered, “fuck no – I said I’m a sociopath!” I asked him to please go into banking and send me a check every time he foreclosed on a granny.

Some time after that he ended up in a menial job working with a tiny woman from Guatemala who spoke no English and couldn’t read or write. He spent the next year – voluntarily – teaching her basic literacy. I wisely kept my mouth shut about how that wasn’t very sociopathic.

He was the second person she told that she was pregnant (she and her husband had been trying for several years). He was overjoyed. He was the second person she told that she miscarried. He was devastated. At that moment I knew he would be all right in the long run.

What I’m trying to say here is that most of us start off life with very limited options – being kids and all. You aren’t really going to know who you are until you’ve been seriously tested by circumstance.

It may seem that you or someone you know is filled with rage or lacks empathy. Anger oft fades. Empathy can be grown. Just because your body has filled out and you have a driver’s license doesn’t mean your social sensibility has finished developing.

As far as your friend goes, the best thing you can do for him is listen. You can’t fix him, but you can comfort him. If his actions become extreme – serious self harm, buying guns, or a love of bluegrass music – you’ll need to do the hard thing and get as far away from him as you can.