On Working Clinically with Sexual Offenders: An Interview with Dr James Cates

When I was first introduced to Dr James Cates about five years ago, it was in a lecture in which he talked about the unique challenges of doing clinical work with the abundant Amish population (third largest in the country) in northern Indiana. I was fascinated by this work in part because it focused on sexual abuse inside a religious community, and I had myself just finished a book on sexual abuse inside the Catholic Church. 

About a year later, I had the great good fortune to read his elegantly written and fascinating book, Serpent in the Garden: Amish Sexuality in a Changing World, about which I interviewed him here. 

I brought him to one of my classes this past semester to lecture on working with the Amish and it was then I learned his newest book was about to make its appearance in print. I eagerly ordered and read Offenders and the Sexual Abuse of Children (Routledge, 2024), and then asked him for an interview about it. His thoughts are below.  

AD: Tell us about your background

James Cates: I graduated with a master’s degree in clinical psychology from George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. Jobs were sparse, so I did a nationwide search, and wound up employed in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I planned to stay a couple of years and move back to Virginia.

That was 1982. I’m still in Fort Wayne, looking for the right job to move back. 

Meanwhile, I received my doctorate in clinical rehabilitation psychology in 1993, became a board-certified clinical psychologist, and moved into private practice. Somewhere along the line I began teaching part-time at Purdue University-Fort Wayne, first undergraduate, and more recently in the mental health counseling program. I became involved with the Amish, a culture that I love dearly and respect deeply. I am now semi-retired, and continue to write and to do psychological testing and consultation. 

AD: Your previous books marked you out as the leading scholar-clinician on Amish psychology, so a book on sexual offenders might seem a significant new direction to move in. Are there any connections between these worlds?

JC: Sadly, more connections exist between the Amish and sexual offending than would be preferred. All three of my books on their culture include chapters that address sexual abuse: Serving the Amish: A Cultural Guide for Professionals; Serpent in the Garden: Amish Sexuality in a Changing World; and Dancing on the Devil’s Playground: The Amish Negotiate with Modernity. And mainstream media has picked up the storyline of hidden sexual abuse among the Amish, as among so many groups today, as a social ill in desperate need of change. 

I credit my work with the Amish for helping to broaden my perspective on sexual offending. Their culture is collective, emphasizing a communal and cooperative lifestyle, so that very few actions occur outside public awareness. Their culture also emphasizes forgiveness as a Christ-like virtue, so that sins are to be forgiven and forgotten. Consulting with both social service personnel and Amish ministers on how to handle issues of sexual abuse within the church, and counseling with Amish victims of sexual abuse and those who have sexually offended has given me an appreciation for the interwoven complexities of this behavior, and its impact on the family and community. This fallout is too often obscured as the justice system grinds into gear in mainstream culture.  

AD: The first part of your book helpfully situates what is to come in its social and historical context, especially in the anglophone world. As you survey this history, are there 2 or 3 outstanding factors you unearthed to help explain shifting perspectives on sexual offenses? 

JC: The idea that history is written by the victors is most recently attributed to Winston Churchill. That is so true when considering perspective on sexual offenses. With the caveat that I am neither a historian by training, nor am I an amateur historian, these are my thoughts.

The anglophone response to sexual abuse through the 19th and earlier 20th centuries was dictated by class and caste systems far more than an advocacy to protect all children. As horrible an indictment as that sounds, it fits within the broader disinterest in the rights and well-being of those of lower socioeconomic status. In this country, the status of African-Americans is the most obvious example. As the Civil War became a cause to end slavery, even many who were fervent abolitionists failed to perceive people of color as equal to whites. And these attitudes continued to be codified in law well into the mid-20th century. The backlash to these prejudices became an embrace of equality, and demand that the rights of all people be respected. One of the lasting legacies of this principled backlash has been a strong advocacy for the safety of children. Unfortunately, those who sexually offend then become pariahs in their own right. 

Another rarely considered historical factor was political necessity in the early years of gay rights. That portion of the nascent movement driven by gay men was enmeshed with men attracted to young boys. This uneasy truce lasted until it became clear that an alliance between men attracted to men and men attracted to boys was a detriment to social and political ambitions for the former, who acted to distance themselves from those who would now be termed minor-attracted. While the gay movement did not actively denigrate those who were minor-attracted, the implication was clear: we do not support that type of sexual activity. In that implication, one denigrated sexual minority made a case for its own worth by keeping its distance from another. (And in fairness, at the time those advocating same-sex attraction to boys were also advocating for the freedom to act on their sexual desires, a much different social and political agenda than those currently seeking status as minor-attracted.)   

AD: One of the themes in the background of your book seems to be how much we like to paint sexual offenders as bright red grotesques, whose features and causes we confidently feel we can immediately identify, but you note "there appear to be too many variables that contribute to the ultimate behavior to reliably predict patterns of sexual offending" (p.23). Later you note that when it comes to the risk of recidivism for sexual offenses "nothing even approaching a definitive response exists" (p36). Given the enormous publicity that attends sexual offenses, one might expect this to be a heavily researched area. What helps to explain the many lacunae in the clinical literature on these topics? 

JC: The problems in predicting the behavior that leads to sexual offending are myriad. A parallel example from several years ago in the area of substance use exemplifies the dilemma. At that time, studies repeatedly found that among 18–25-year-olds, over 50% were binge drinking on a regular basis. The first problem with this statistic is that by definition, if an 18–25-year-old was not binge drinking, they were abnormal, since they were in the minority. The second problem with this definition became the criteria for binge drinking. As studies began refining the definition of “binge drinking,” using differing criteria for the number of drinks consumed at one time, or within a certain time period, the percentage of those identified as binge drinkers began to vary too. Alcohol use was not significantly changing. The way research defined it was. 

When research looks at sexual offending, the same problem with definitions applies. What is the age of the victim? Legally, a “sex offender” label applies to someone who has sex with a five-year-old, or someone a week younger than the legal age of consent. Do the same dynamics of sexual, emotional, and romantic interest apply to these two individuals? What is the age range of interest for someone who has sexually offended? How often, or under what circumstances do the sexual offenses occur? Do we apply the same criteria to the uncle who molests his niece on two occasions, and the serial offender who has sexually offended against both genders multiple times?  Is there an element of power and control, or do they exhibit a romantic or regressive emotional interest in the younger partner? Not only is this a complex topic, but we do little to encourage those who have sexually offended to be open and honest about their sexual and psychological experiences. 

Research on recidivism in sexual offending is hampered by the shame, guilt, and risks that attend honesty. Consider a standard field research protocol. Participants must be known to have sexually offended. There is no potential to circulate a call for participants, such as can occur at a local 12-step meeting for those struggling with substance abuse who might like to give back to the community. There is no potential to ask counselors to share with clients who would qualify as participants. No, the only participants available are those who have been charged and convicted of a sexual offense. And the majority of these (now) criminals have no incentive to be honest about their behavior, beyond the behaviors for which they have been convicted. If they are, they run the risk of having even more charges added, and facing lengthier sentences. The individual struggling with alcohol or drug abuse, including illicit drugs, can share stories of past use with impunity. Not so the individual who has sexually offended.

The most accessible participants then, are those who have served a period of incarceration and are released. And the most easily obtained outcome measure is recidivism. Have they been arrested post-release for a sexual offense? And again, there is no incentive to be honest if they have not been caught. For the probationer who relapses and watches child pornography but escapes detection, there is no incentive to share that fact. We are then left with no understanding of the emotional and psychological forces that become overwhelming and lead to the decision to risk prison once again in order to fulfill this sexual need. The probationer who shares with a counselor that they have used alcohol, violating the rules of their release, faces minimal expectation that the counselor will report them. But the probationer who shares with a counselor that they have sexually offended, violating the rules of their release? A report is almost inevitable. 

And there is a need – clearly, there is a need – to protect potential victims of sexual offending. But in acknowledging that need, we fail to take into consideration the vague definition that the outcome measure “recidivism” must inevitably become. As another example, studies vary in the types of crimes they define as recidivism. Any violent crime? Or only a sexual crime? If a defendant is initially charged with a sexual crime, but it is reduced by plea bargain to a misdemeanor battery with no sexual component, is that recidivism? These are the types of decisions about definitions that vary from study to study, and complicate meta-analyses.  

AD: One of the (to my mind) peculiarities in treatment of adolescent vs. adult offenders is, as you note, offering the former a "rehabilitative model rather than a punitive one" (p.38). The latter model, when applied to adults (who are often related to their victims), often causes even further unintended hardship (as you note on p.78) and suffering by imprisoning the offender, causing a loss of income to the family and other problems. Is there any argument to be made about adopting a more rehabilitative model across the board for all offenders? What is the evidence we have about rehabilitation and its efficacy? 

The question goes to the broader issue of American attitudes toward rehabilitation. The statistic is hard to pin down, but we rank among the highest per capita incarceration rates among developed countries. We are more comfortable locking away those who offend than finding ways to manage them within the community. 

Restorative justice, the concept that accountability and reparation are more important than retribution and punishment, is beginning to make inroads into the justice system. We see it in the formation of drug courts and mental health courts, designed to treat substance abuse and mental illness primarily as disorders, rather than crimes to be adjudicated. Still, the emphasis on protection for the community means that rehabilitative models for those who sexually offend are slower to develop and slower to be implemented than for other populations. 

Rehabilitation for a particular population will relate to that population’s standing. Those who engage in criminal behavior are placed at the intersection of politics and science. There is a grim reality to the frequency with which Americans incarcerate those who commit crimes. Reducing the number of people likely to commit crimes who are on the streets does indeed contribute to a lower crime rate. So, at some point the issue becomes philosophical: to what extent is the drug dealer/drug user/burglar/child pornographer/etc. deserving of rehabilitation and a return to mainstream society? Only the to extent that we believe that a given population deserves rehabilitation do we begin to emphasize rehabilitation for them. And only to the extent we emphasize rehabilitation is it funded, analyzed, refined, and measured for its efficacy. 

An argument for extending rehabilitation? For those of us who argue for the worth of the individual over the erosion of civil rights and the staggering costs of incarceration, it is well worth it. For those of us who argue for the safety of the community over the worth of the individual? Rehabilitation is secondary to confinement.  And the argument is obviously not that black-and-white. Argue within the shades of gray and it becomes a tumultuous argument, indeed. 

AD: I thought my cynicism about the legal system was approaching bedrock level, but I confess it fell still further as I watched you judiciously sift and sort through the evidence for geographical restrictions on offenders, state-mandated offender registries, and similar tools of social control. Given that, as you show, we have virtually no empirical evidence for their utility, how are we to explain their ubiquity today--are they simply the perverse fruits of moral panic, a kind of "quarantining" or ghettoization of undesirables we see throughout human history going back to biblical leper colonies? 

JC: The high-profile kidnapping, sexual assault, and murder of several children resulted in federal laws that have shaped social control of those convicted of sexual offending. To some extent, it was a perfect storm of events: the public was clamoring for a sense of safety due to multiple events on the world stage that led to unrest and feelings of unease; the media hyped stories of child abduction and murder in an endless loop as the public became increasingly interested, and the media fed that interest; and social science had little or nothing in the way of evidence to support or refute proposed legislation. 

Once legislation was in place, research was playing catch-up to determine how effective it might be. Laws continued to be modified, expectations for registries continued to evolve, and research needed to change to match current expectations. By the time research was demonstrating that registries had no deterrent effect and geographic limitations were ineffective, both of these safeguards were entrenched in the public psyche as “deterrent measures.” For legislators it was no longer a matter of what might be effective. It was a matter of public demand. 

A demonstration of just how little evidence-based practice impacts social policy can be seen by placing gun ownership and sexual offending side by side. Mass shootings have become a norm in the United States – including in schools - but no one is seriously considering gun control, despite the evidence that gun control would work to reduce senseless deaths. Meanwhile, registries and geographic limitations on habitation do nothing to reduce sex offending, but we cling to them like a drowning man to a life preserver.

AD: At the end of ch.9 you note that "the necessary, fundamental change is a better understanding of a person who sexually offends." This seems so simple as to be almost startling, but I think it true. And yet I know from my students that the one population they all say they would struggle the most to work with, some of them expressing horror at the very thought, is that of sexual offenders. What are some of the most startling or surprising insights for you working with sexual offenders--what have you learned from them?

JC: Let me start the answer to this question indirectly, and wind my way back. It strikes me as a political rather than a clinical statement that as a 68-year-old male, in my state of residence I can carry on a romantic/sexual affair with a 16-year-old, and not only be within the boundaries of the law, but there is no preponderance of research explaining what might be the hell wrong with me. And yet social science churns out article after article detailing the problems of a 20-year-old who deigns to fall madly in love with a 15-year-old. 

Now, a couple of quick clarifications to the paragraph above. I have no interest in a romantic or sexual liaison with a 16-year-old. Rather, my point is that empirical research does not bother to extensively study age differences in romantic interest across the lifespan; only between adults and children. And the example I use is one of the narrower age gaps that can occur that result in arrest, charge, and conviction leading to the label of “sex offender.” Obviously, 20-year-olds (and older) are also sexually abusing much younger children, a clinical problem in desperate need of research. 

The point however, is that between the black-and-white of inappropriate sexual acting out and sexually permissible behavior there is a wide, gray area that becomes codified in laws that may not be an accurate representation of how clinically disordered a person is. 

I give two brief examples in the book. Fleshing these out a bit gives a better sense of just how different the dynamics between two people who become “sex offenders” can be. 

One was a case in which I testified for the prosecution. This was an approximately 40-year-old man who had a history of arrests for various offenses. His apartment was filled with toys and games he used to entice children from the neighborhood. By the time he was arrested he had multiple victims, and from all potential observation, no remorse for his behavior. He appeared to exhibit an Antisocial Personality Disorder – that is, a lack of conscience or ability to empathize with others, and a willingness to disregard their rights. In his case, rehabilitation was far less of a concern than safety for the community. His is one extreme of those who sexually offend. He also had charges for various non-sexual felonies. His sexual offending was part of a larger pattern of disregarding the rights of others. 

At the other extreme was a young man with a severe addiction to marijuana. He began sexually abusing his young daughter. He hated himself for doing so, and after one incident said to her, “If I do this again, tell mommy.” He sexually abused her again, and in turn, his daughter told her mother. He did not contest the charges. While he waited for the justice system to proceed (it took 14 months for his sentencing hearing), he lived on house arrest with his parents. He found a job, and made voluntary child support payments on a biweekly basis. Despite his cooperation and behavior, he was given a sentence of 12 years. In counseling him as he waited for sentencing, and staying in touch with him during the time he has been in prison, it is clear to me that he is not attracted to children. The incidents with his daughter arose from a combination of reduced inhibitions due to drug use, tensions with his wife (the girl’s mother), and feelings of helplessness in his larger environment. 

In these two vignettes, from a legal perspective, the behavior is the same. A child under the age of 14 was touched for the purpose of sexual gratification. From a clinical perspective, they could not be more disparate. Regardless of the presenting problem, it is a profound reminder for those of us in the mental health field: there are multiple reasons for a behavior to occur. 

And the most surprising observations? Very few of my clients fail to offer me insights in some way. Sometimes, they are insights that leave me grieving the human condition. Sometimes, they are insights that leave me breathless with what the human condition can overcome. The most startling among those who sexually offend has been the integrity they can demonstrate. Knowing full well that they are now pariahs, despised by so many, relegated to wear the scarlet letter of the registry upon their release from incarceration, they carry on with a dignity and purpose that belies their pariah status. There are several that I am proud to call my friends.  

AD: Your historicizing tendencies in this book are never so powerful and disturbing as when you show that many of the treatments previously used to "treat" today's offenders were the self-same ones used not so long ago to try to "convert" mostly gay men into heterosexuality. Are there, in fact, any treatments we have today that are (a) not connected to those abuses and (b) effective? 

JC: Visualize a map of empirical study of effective treatments for sexual offending. There is a broad, well-traveled road that runs through the middle of the map. That is the history of Sexual Orientation Change Efforts (SOCE), as they are now called, the historical efforts to convert sexual minorities to heterosexuality. At some point, that road begins to narrow, and eventually becomes a minor path. But branching away from it is a path that broadens into its own road. And these are the efforts to create change among those who sexually offend. Same journey; different destination. 

Now, staying with that visual, imagine side trails leaving the main road, both from the original highway and the new branch. These are much narrower, and almost all of them dead-end. That is the history of alternative treatment efforts, for both SOCE and for sexual offending. Without sufficient funding or willingness on the part of the larger mental health community to explore them, they may hold potential, but the destination is a therapeutic dead end. 

In brief answer to your questions then, (a) no, nearly all of the interventions in use today have their genesis in SOCE approaches, and (b) their efficacy is based on outcome measures, and the inefficacy of those measures is discussed above.  

I devote a single chapter to the evolution of mental health treatment. The topic is worthy of an entire book itself. My hope is that the chapter spurs a healthy debate on the efficacy of treatment, and that the community of current mental health practitioners implementing and researching these treatments are called to critically analyze their approaches.   

AD: Your chapter on minor-attracted persons is perhaps the one where we see most acutely the limitations and short-comings of our research, knowledge, and clinical practice. Where would you like to see the research go? What future directions and changes do we need to investigate? 

Minor-Attracted People (MAPs) are a paradox. They again demonstrate the intersection of the clinical and political. Allyn Walker wrote extensively about MAPs in their book A Long, Dark Shadow: Minor-Attracted People and Their Pursuit of Dignity, only to be pressured to resign from their position as faculty at Old Dominion University because of it. On the one hand, there is increasing urgency to recognize the right of MAPs to express themselves as romantic and sexual human beings. On the other hand, there is the ongoing urgency to protect vulnerable children from any more exposure to adult romantic and sexual encounters than a socially toxic environment already allows. 

The fear is the “slippery slope” of acceptance. It took time, but from riots by street people outside the Stonewall Inn in 1969, gay liberation brought us to Obergefell vs. Hodges in 2015, the Supreme Court decision legalizing same-sex marriage. Some fear that embracing MAPs as a legitimate sexual orientation is an ultimate invitation to act on that desire, protests to the contrary notwithstanding. They point to the slow history of acceptance of same-sex couples as an example of how that can occur. 

It is here that social scientific research can be most helpful. Is minor-attraction a sexual orientation? Are there different manifestations of minor attraction? How often does minor-attraction as a sexual orientation coexist with other sexual orientations? If minor-attraction is only one of many reasons that individuals may desire to become sexually involved with a child, what clinical/emotional/psychological factors and traits contribute to minor-attraction as opposed to other reasons for focusing on children? And if a MAP chooses to embrace that attraction but remain abstinent from acting on the desires, what are the most effective means of assisting them in doing so?  

AD: Sum up your hopes for this book? Who should read it? 

JC: Bear with me for a moment – my dad was a Baptist minister, and some of those lessons linger. One of those lessons was the story of Elijah the prophet on the mountainside. God sent a message, but first he sent an earthquake, a huge wind, and a fire. The message wasn’t in any of these. And then, God sent the soft whisper of a voice. That has been an important lesson for me.

So much of what is written about sexual offending advocates for the victim and rails against those who offend. Less often, but still in print are those writings that advocate for those who offend and rail against the system. Offenders and the Sexual Abuse of Children is, unapologetically, an indictment of the mental health, social service, and justice systems as they attempt to protect victims and treat those who offend. But I strive to maintain a balanced perspective. The system is not in need of repair because of indifference. On the contrary, there is a desperate desire to protect the community and potential victims. My voice may rise above a whisper in these pages, but I strive to avoid the drama of frustration and anger that so often pervades these emotional arguments. 

I encourage anyone in the fields of mental health, social services, or criminal justice who work with those who sexually offend or their victims to read this book. I also encourage those who volunteer with organizations that support those who offend, their victims, or their families to read this book. And for those who have offended and their families, some may find this book of interest as well. As much as possible, I have stayed away from jargon, and maintain a readable style. 

AD: What are you at work on next? 

Back to the Amish, at least for a time! Several years ago, I was part of a program that offered psychoeducational classes for Amish youth arrested for drug and alcohol offenses in the Elkhart-LaGrange settlement of northern Indiana (the third largest Amish settlement). Over the 14 years the program ran, we collected data on almost 1000 participants. That data is ready for analysis, and I am working with several other professionals to begin that process.

I am also co-authoring another book on the Amish. This book examines the strengths and weaknesses of Amish culture, particularly as their social fabric comes under criticism from ex-Amish, the media, and the larger culture.  

And the response to Offenders and the Sexual Abuse of Children will guide my decisions about further work (article, book, etc.) in this area.  

Thank you so much, Dr. DeVille, for the opportunity to share on this blog! Always fulfilling to work with you as a colleague and a friend.

Amish Sexuality: An Interview with James Cates

I heard a great lecture in August by Dr James Cates on his pioneering clinical work with the Amish in northern Indiana, and I was instantly fascinated by his experience, and even more so by his two main books on the topic. In 2014, Johns Hopkins University Press published his Serving the Amish.

And then Serpent in the Garden: Amish Sexuality in a Changing World was published just a few weeks ago (JHU Press, 2020), 224pp. I reached out to him by e-mail to interview him about the book, which I read on a lovely weekend in mid-September sitting outside in near-perfect weather. It is an elegantly written and deeply interesting study, making all sorts of unexpected connections, and I sent him some questions about it. Here are his thoughts:

AD: Tell us about your background

JC: That question almost always prompts me to say, “I’m a clinical psychologist,” and start with my history in the mental health field. That background contributes to this work, but my love of writing predates my interest in psychology. I was the editor for my high school newspaper, and started college determined to be a journalist. I decided life was too short to wear a paper hat and say “Would you like fries with that?” one more time between semesters, and applied as a summer counselor at a residential treatment center for severely disturbed children. I fell in love with the work and the kids, and the center kept me on as part-time staff that fall. A little over four years and a master’s in psychology later, I moved from student and part-time houseparent to full-time therapist at another residential treatment center. Five years later, I realized how much I loved psychological testing, but to pursue it as a career the doctorate in psychology would be required. I obtained my Ph.D., and all these years later, still love counseling, testing, and consulting.

And amidst the focus on residents and clients, the passion to write never left. Working as a houseparent, I realized a very different type of child was our “frequent flyer” in seclusion rooms (used to isolate and calm a disruptive resident), and wanted to research the problem. I ended up in contact with a professor at my school who had worked with the CIA and was an expert in sensory deprivation. Scary stuff, but a great mentor. Together, we churned out my first publication, and from there I began writing professional articles, book chapters, and the occasional freelance publication. 

My late wife was the first one in the family connected with the Amish, and primed my interest. We wrote two articles together, and even after her death, my involvement with the Amish deepened. Still, my work would have remained local and limited to the occasional article if not for an incredible group of Amish women (see the answer to the next question).  

AD: What led to the writing of Serpent in the Garden: Amish Sexuality in a Changing World?

JCL Let me insert a shameless plug for my first book, Serving the Amish: A Cultural Guide for Professionals, published in 2014, also by Johns Hopkins University Press. Without that title, Serpent in the Garden would never have been written. Here is the backstory. 

In the early 21st century, Amish women in the Elkhart-LaGrange settlement of Indiana, the third largest, were beginning to confront the issue of domestic violence in a different way than had ever been done before. Amish women had left their husbands, and even their communities in the past, but at that time the women’s shelter in LaGrange, Indiana was run by a director who made Parris Island drill sergeants look like mama’s boys. She was also genuine, and could connect with the Amish women in her care. Feminism had come to the Amish of Elkhart-LaGrange. From the outside looking in, it might not seem militant. These were, after all, Amish women, whose lives were predicated on humility, pacifism, and obedience to men. But from the inside looking out? They were the Amish version of armed protesters.  

And I happened to be a friend to one of the movers and shakers among these women. She decided that the group should do a presentation on domestic violence among Plain people (i.e., the Amish, and those with values similar to theirs) at an international conference to be held in the Lancaster, Pennsylvania area. And she anticipated that I would make that happen. 

Of course I would. I had no idea how, but of course I would. Let me digress again. I discuss this in Serpent in the Garden, but just because men are given the primary authority, and are head of the household? Don’t ever believe that Amish women do not have power and control. Amish women can be downright scary. Of course I would. 

So, I called Donald B. Kraybill, Ph.D., at Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania, who was responsible for the conference. The recognized scholar on the Amish. The recognized scholar. Had never met him. Had never talked to him. And said I had a group of Amish women who wanted to present on domestic violence, and would they be able to do so? And Don, being no stranger to Amish women either, said of course they could. 

And from that initial presentation developed a friendship with Don, who became the driving force behind my first book, Serving the Amish. But almost before that book was in print, Don suggested that I expand the chapter on sexuality. 

It seemed simple at first. The Amish views on sexuality are straightforward. Procreation: good. Sex for procreation: good. Sex for pleasure: bad. But of course, that is an incredible oversimplification, as my years of dialogue with the Amish indicated. The tightrope walk became writing a book that was forthright about their views on sex, sexuality, and gender roles while maintaining the dignity of the people I was describing.

And at the end of the day, I wrote it because there are excellent works that explain the sociology, history, and even the anthropology of the Amish. Former Amish turn back and write about the culture they left behind. Those who are still a part of the Amish church write about the culture in which they engage. But with the exception of the “tell-all” autobiography, very few sources discuss the experience of sex and sexuality. My hope is not to write the definitive work on the subject. My hope is to model a discussion about the topic that opens it within the field of academia. 

AD: One of the writers and clinicians I have been most influenced by is the British psychoanalyst Adam Phillips who has written that "When it comes to sexuality, we don't get it....We may have inklings about it....We can know the facts of life, but nothing else. We may, as we say, have sex, but we won't get it." This seems to accord very much with your preface that "for no group is sexuality ever a simple proposition" (p. viii). Does that not fly in the face of the common perception that for these "Plain people" everything in their life is simple--from clothing to buildings, farming to family life? What were the biggest surprises for you as you began to discover their sexually complicated lives?

JC: I expand my disclaimer later in the book, much in line with Phillips’ assertion: 

…social scientists have come late to the party to explain romantic love, an effort the literati have more eloquently embraced for thousands of years. For those who live out the fairytale, falling madly in love and forsaking all other considerations in pursuit of their quest, this book does not attempt to add to the myriad explanations linking head and heart…Suffice to say, the model suggested is insufficient, as are they all, to explain the vagaries where ‘there are strings in the human heart that had better not be vibrated.’ (p. 96)

It is easy to correlate “Plain” and “simple,” but as you observe, such is not the case. In Serving the Amish, I make the statement that “…despite their best intentions to live apart from the world, they cannot live apart from their sexual desires” (p. 72). And I freely confess, I was naïve for some time, learning incidentally that to be human is to engage in the full range of behaviors. For example, I realized that genital piercings were relatively common among Amish males of Rumspringa age (16 years old until the decision is made to join church) only because of a passing comment by an emergency services physician who had himself been surprised by the number of such piercings he had observed with Amish patients. 

That said, I have found that trust with an Amish friend or confidante is more difficult to attain than with a non-Amish person, but once it is a part of the relationship? There are very few topics that are off-limits. It seems to be part of the collective and high-context culture, in which there are fewer deeply personal secrets. 

It isn’t the sexual behavior that surprises me. After all, there may be unusual, creative, or even exotic ways of engaging other persons or objects sexually, but the end goal stays the same. It is more the guilt, shame, and remorse that attaches to behaviors that have largely become innocuous for the broader heteronormative (culture). For example, from time to time, I find a non-Amish adolescent client in my practice who is conflicted about masturbating, but this is usually a mild guilt or shame. I have talked with numerous Amish adolescents who experience a deep-seated guilt, shame, and remorse for having yielded to this temptation. And in fairness, some carry on with lustful abandon. The same is true of premarital sexual activity of all types. Attitudes run the gamut, but shame and despair over “making out” is more common than giddy excitement over multiple sexual conquests.  

And as I make the world-weary statement, “I’ve seen it all when it comes to sex and the Amish…nothing can faze me,” there will doubtless be something, shortly after this blog is published, that makes me say, “Whoa! Didn’t see that one coming!”

AD: You bring what you recognize may be an unexpected interlocutor into your book, viz., Michel Foucault and the "queer theory" in whose development he played such a role. Tell us how and why a figure and a theory from such a different cultural, intellectual, and theological background is helpful to understanding the sexuality of the "Plain people."

JC: Personal experience comes to bear as much as scientific inquiry. Several years ago, I spoke about the Amish at a conference in Utah for professionals working with plural marriage Mormons. I brought a young man who was Amish to the conference as a speaker as well. The experience was enlightening in terms of the overlap of vastly divergent cultures.

At that time (this was prior to the same-sex marriage decision by SCOTUS), plural marriage Mormons and sexual minority activists in Utah had pooled their resources to argue for changes in the law with the legislature. Politics had indeed made strange bedfellows, since the sexual minorities had little interest in the plight of plural marriage Mormons, and the plural marriage Mormons viewed same-sex behavior as a sin. Nevertheless, the predominant culture had pushed them into an alliance to argue for a loosening of the laws.

It was interesting to watch my Amish counterpart interact with the plural marriage Mormons as well. Although they were vastly different in beliefs and theology, so much of their experience was similar. Separation from the world, a unique view of themselves in the face of that world, misunderstanding and intolerance on the part of their neighbors, and a religious and spiritual culture that defies the majority of Christian beliefs were all central points on which they could empathize and share. 

And for myself? I identify as a sexual minority as well. I use the term “gay” and join the crowd in that particular tent, although the circus is pretty jumbled these days, and a single noun/adjective hardly does justice to the complexity of sexuality. But this is a blog, not a book, so I leave it there, including it simply to note that the journey has been one of moving from being diagnosed with a mental illness and assured a place in hell to living comfortably with the complexity of a healthy sexuality and knowing that God and I are doing okay.  

And with that diversity of experience behind me, professional and personal, when it came time to try to find a framework or model to tie together the experience of Amish sexuality, I realized that queer theory was a great fit. It described my experience as I had lived the metamorphosis of my sexuality, and it would have fit, quite neatly, with the plural marriage Mormons who were struggling for recognition lo those several years ago. It fit because at its simplest and most elegant, it describes a predominant culture that sets the rules for what sexuality should be, and a subculture that defies these rules. Although the Amish fit the predominant culture rules once upon a time, they now were out of step with that culture, and were the subculture. Enter, Michel Foucault and queer theory!  

AD: Queer theory, as you note a little later on (p.21), is especially useful in warning us off essentialism and in reminding us how culturally constructed sexuality and gender roles really are in what you call the Amish "heteronormative." Tell us a bit more what you mean by that term.

JC: Once upon a time, when dinosaurs roamed the earth…okay, maybe not that long ago, but prior to the heady days of the sexual revolution, the “Amish” heteronormative was “the” heteronormative in the United States. (An excellent book on this subject is Front Porch to Back Seat: Courtship in Twentieth Century America, by Beth Bailey, published in 1989 by Johns Hopkins University Press.) Sexual mores loosened in the broader culture, and the heteronormative, or the parameters for sexual behavior and expression of sexuality became more tolerant. The heterosexual majority is assumed to establish these norms, by dint of the fact that they are the majority, and therefore have the largest voting bloc when decisions are made about what is acceptable.

As the heteronormative in the broader culture yielded to greater freedom, the Amish clung to the traditional heteronormative that imposed far stricter expectations. Same-sex relationships are the most recent divisive cultural standard, but they have long stood in opposition to loosened views on cohabitation and divorce, to name but two. As they separate themselves from the world, making a distinct and diligent effort to maintain a social structure founded on principles that are untainted by non-Christian beliefs, their values system has become increasingly separate as well. Queer theory posits that a sexual minority rebels against the heteronormative. While the clash of competing heteronormatives is not a proposition the theory was designed to entertain, the model is sufficiently robust to accommodate this paradox. Foucault’s vision has survived long enough to see its application morph, from the emerging view of sexuality that it first addressed, to the transitions that now occur as that sexuality has become the norm, and past norms run for cover.  

AD: You stress many times in the book the patriarchal nature of Amish society and authority especially, but also note repeatedly that "gender roles among the Amish are likewise much more complicated than they first appear" (p.35). Later on (p.84) you note that "neither the Ordnung nor some churches stop women from pursuing vocations and avocations." Tell us a bit more about these complicated roles and give us an example of some female vocations you have in mind here.

At one point in my professional career, I owned a house in Topeka, Indiana that I used as a satellite office, and also rented space to other businesses. (By the by, if you are looking for Topeka, Indiana on a map, it’s that tiny dot south of Shipshewana, just east of Rt. 5.) One of these businesses was a magazine owned and published by an Amish woman in the community. Our agreement included my possession of the online services that she required, while another, non-Amish friend leased a desktop publishing arrangement to her that rivaled NASA in its complexity. These arrangements kept her from violating her church’s Ordnung and owning computers, or renting online services herself. The house had a kitchen, and I gave her free rein there as well. That meant that in addition to running a magazine that was distributed throughout the Amish settlements in the United States and Canada, she did cooking, including canning and making jams and jellies during her workday. 

In one sense, she was not your typical Amish woman. An independent soul, she had a sense of self and entrepreneurial spirit that was at odds with the typical Amish female. She also had an expansive sense of what was rightfully hers. After a season or two in the rental, she announced that the front looked too bare, and she would be planting flowers. Following that decision, she announced to me that the Amish man who did the lawn work there (and who was also her neighbor) was not taking proper precautions around her flowers, and I needed to remind him to do better. It has been several years since she was a tenant, and I still miss her.

All this to say, most Amish women find satisfaction as homemakers, or at most branch out into home-based crafts and produce sales. They may find employment as schoolteachers prior to marriage, or in some of the larger settlements, serve customers in stores or restaurants. Once married, and particularly once they have children, they are expected to return to the home. But within that home, it seems likely that there is a bell curve of submission. 

At the peak of the curve, representing the plurality of Amish women, are those who find satisfaction with some level of submissive respect for the patriarchy. There is a give and take in terms of gender-defined chores, so that males may assume responsibility for female chores, and vice-versa, but the roles remain clearly delineated, even with the willingness to cross boundaries. At one extreme of the curve are the women such as my tenant, who still do not cross into what is traditionally masculine territory, but take an androgynous role (e.g., writing) and move into fuller responsibilities (e.g., publisher). At the other extreme are women who are forced into subjection, rather than submission, and treated with lack of respect that relegates them to a servile role (e.g., domestic violence).   

AD:  You note several times (including p.94) that the Amish "advocate humility." Having recently written a book on sex abuse in the Catholic Church, I'm keenly aware of the uses and abuses of "humility" in that context. Is there something similar in the Amish community? Do you see a connection between the emphasis on humility and the sex abuse you describe in your seventh chapter?

JC: Your question reminds me of the quote by Hazrat Khan: “Our virtues are made by love, and our sins caused by the lack of it.” The short answer is yes, absolutely. The willingness of those who prey on the humility that is a cornerstone of Amish beliefs encourage sexual abuse. They do so by failing to embrace the humility they exploit.

The more complicated answer addresses a patriarchal, hierarchical social system. As much as the Amish attempt to lead Christ-based lives, we are told that the Savior himself said, “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s (Matthew 22:21). I tend toward the belief that complex social orders are more human than divine, a “rendering unto Caesar.” The parsing of power inevitably leads to the opportunity for abuse, as those who hold power and control are tempted to misuse it. Add the core spiritual beliefs of the need to sacrifice in this life, to remain humble in the face of persecution, and to forgive our enemies, and the potential for unreported abuse rises accordingly.  

AD: You're an admirably restrained writer, placidly describing Amish beliefs with great care and balance, but there is one place where your own difficulty intrudes explicitly on p. 119 in working with an Amish teacher in a case of the sexual abuse of a girl. Here you note--of their view that the victim needed to acknowledge some role in the abuse--that "it was not a belief I could accept but it was a belief I needed to respect." In Trump's America in 2020, that seems a precious, rare, and increasingly lost skill! How, as a clinician, did you come to be able to make that distinction and to live it? For young clinicians starting out, do you have any recommendations on how to increase one's capacity for respecting what one cannot accept?

JC: I have shared this story elsewhere, so I will include it in condensed form here. My dad was a Baptist minister, with all the fundamental beliefs that entails. None of that stopped him from encouraging me to believe, fully and profoundly, that my relationship with God was mine, and mine alone, and he respected whatever choices I made.

I knew his position on sexual minorities. To act on our desires was to commit a sin. Whether we were eventually accepted by God was not his decision, but we were sinning in the here and now. Years after the fact, I learned of an incident in the mid-70’s at the church, when I was away at college.

A group of women decided to hold an exercise class, and opened it to the community. What we would now consider a male-to-female transgender began attending, much to the dismay of the women. She did not look like a she, being at the stage of dressing as a female, but having taken no other steps toward sex reassignment. “She” was a “he” in a women’s exercise class.

So, the women graced by birth as such trooped into my dad’s office and demanded the removal of the impersonator. My dad heard them out, leaned back in his chair, and said, “Does she consider herself a woman?” The women grudgingly admitted she did. “Then,” he said, “as long as I am pastor of this church, she stays.” 

It was not a decision that was taken well. But it was the kind of man he was. The church was open to anyone who wanted to attend. He could talk a firm theological stance, but when it came to people? They were God’s children, and if God loved them, he loved them.

And in my practice, I’ve dealt with white supremacists, those who abhor sexual minorities, with atheists, and with countless others who see the world far differently from me. There are clients and situations that leave me struggling to respect what they believe. And I have mellowed over the years, too.  But when I weigh the potential to heal the pain of a person sitting across from me, by respecting beliefs that do not align with mine, or add to that pain by assuring them that I believe they are wrong? All too often, there is no purpose in adding to their distress, and much more to be gained by helping them heal.  

AD: Forgiveness of course plays a huge role in Amish culture. You recognize (p.121) that it can be "meritorious" to forgive but then seem to hint that perhaps such forgiveness might be a bit facile or prone to abuse in the absence of "an embedded system to address behaviors that are symptomatic of pervasive clinical syndromes." In your own clinical experience working with the Amish over these past years, have you seen changes here? Is there an awareness of the need for such a system, and progress towards building one?

As I note in the book, the term “the” Amish is a misnomer. Because they answer to no single authority, the Ordnung, or rules that govern the church, are common in the unifying principles that create a Plain people (maintaining a collective and high context culture), but allow for at least some flexibility in areas of technology and self-expression. So, the answer to your question would be a qualified yes.

As you note, forgiveness is a fundamental principle of Amish culture. Forgiving addictive and compulsive behaviors becomes the problem. The community is forced to overlook the repetition of repeated behaviors that have been forgiven and forgotten in the belief that they will not recur, or acknowledge that repentance is not sustaining change. In Serving the Amish, I share the story of a woman whose husband engaged in serial infidelity. The ministry chose to handle the situation by telling her if she were a better wife, he would not stray. After the book was published, I learned more of their situation, and came to believe that he engaged in sexually compulsive behavior. While that in no way excuses the patronizing and patriarchal response of the ministry, it does provide a framework for his inability to stop his behavior. 

The incident I described in Serving the Amish happened almost 15 years ago now. I have no reason to believe that her ministry would respond differently today. They are an Amish church in an Amish settlement that aligns closely with the patriarchal system. Ironically, they are also a settlement that has embraced the 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous to address the problem of alcohol abuse. They recognize the physiological and psychological addictive properties of alcohol, the limitations of confession in front of the church and the spiritual attitude of “forgive and forget” to overcome that addiction, and the need for ongoing support and encouragement to address this sin. 

The same type of paradox can exist in responding to child physical and sexual abuse, and domestic violence. The difficulty in acknowledging these sins as requiring treatment is twofold. First, to acknowledge them outside the Amish church is to risk exposure and punishment, a diminution of the patriarchy. Progressive churches weigh the need to protect their more vulnerable adherents against the risk of weakening the patriarchy, and choose to strengthen the patriarchy by aligning with civil authorities. More conservative churches weigh the need to retain the power of the hierarchy, embodied in the patriarchy, and resist involving civil authorities. Often, the logic used is the necessity of suffering on earth for the glory of an (hoped for – to assume salvation is prideful) eternity in heaven. 

Second, there is often a genuine struggle with the belief that the Amish church is separate from the world. I have never witnessed a confession, but I have heard many descriptions. The power of sitting, standing, or kneeling before the assembled church members (depending on the severity of the sin to be confessed), acknowledging one’s failing, and humbly asking forgiveness is at once a shaming and cleansing experience. Its purpose is to bring sin to light, to ask the forgiveness of God and the assembled church. It is then forgiven by the blood of Christ, who died on the cross for this and all sins, and the sinner walks away, free from that burden. To offer this cleansing ritual, only to be followed by further condemnation by civil authorities, makes a travesty of a powerful spiritual experience, at least in the minds of some spiritually minded ministers.   

The power of this rite, and its tradition in the Amish church does not mean that they are blind to addictions and compulsions. But in fairness, how well do we manage the same types of addictions? The same compulsions? We recognize the scourge of driving while under the influence, and do little to curb the sale of liquor. Compulsive gambling destroys families, and opportunities to gamble continue to expand. Research suggests that the explosion in online pornography is fueling sexual addiction. We can point a finger at the Amish and ask, “How blind can they be?” but in reality, all cultures struggle with how to limit addictive or compulsive access to choices many persons can make responsibly. 

AD: Far and away it seems to me that your average North American outsider looking at the Amish is going to be the most incredulous at not so much Amish gender roles or heteronormative standards as at the profoundly "collective" and "high context" culture in which any notion of individual privacy seems to disappear. North Americans might flee such a thing, but as you note (p.57), the Amish manage to hang on to 85% of their children, who decide to join the church after Rumspringa. Tell us a bit more about this collective culture and how it manages to subsume same-sex desire and the paraphilias and behaviors you speak of in your later chapters.

The extent to which privacy does not exist among the Amish is often difficult for us to understand, much less accept. One story I debated including in Serpent in the Garden involved an interaction with an Amish bishop. I had recently been outed in the Elkhart-LaGrange settlement, and this was a bishop I had long known. We had a close and supportive relationship, and there was a strong, mutual caring on both sides. He had taken the risky step of defending me when my name was sullied at a meeting of senior bishops, so I owed him much. As we sat in his living room, he asked with a calm voice and the straightforward manner of one asking a question which deserved an answer, “Jim, when is the last time you had sex with a man?”

I was stunned, but realized that as an Amish bishop he felt within his rights, particularly since he had supported me. I chose not to answer, and gently parried the question. Had I been Amish? There would have been no choice but to respond, and I would have been expected to be honest.

If one is raised in a culture in which such questions are as natural as breathing, finding them posed offers no dilemma. They may be uncomfortable at times, but they are answered. Amish youth often keep diaries. I have lost track of the number of times someone has shared information about a brother or sister that they obtained reading their sibling’s diary. Collective and high context imposes a different set of rules in terms of what can be considered confidential. 

The difficulty, if almost everything is known, is what to acknowledge, and what to ignore. The Amish are, unfortunately, no different from the larger culture in minimizing the sins of the powerful. And the sins of those who are in Rumspringa, or who have just joined church may merit a lack of scrutiny as well. Sins that repeatedly violate the Ordnung, sins that cross a powerful church member or minister, sins that reflect a severe violation, or sins by a member who has already fallen under the watchful eye of the church as a potential miscreant are more likely to attract attention.

There is also the matter of individual conscience. To share in a collective culture, and so strongly value membership in the group is to also value that camaraderie comes from the intimacy of trust. Hiding an indiscretion becomes an act of disloyalty. Better to confess and become one with God and with the group once again than create a separate sense of self by the partitioning of a portion of one’s life. Be it a same-sex desire or a paraphilia, sharing through confession offers absolution, and a return to the collective “we.”    

AD: Sum up your hopes for the book, and who especially should read it or would benefit from doing so?

Serpent in the Garden is written for students of the Amish. There are so many excellent books on the Amish available, but none give more than passing reference to Amish sexuality. I should mention that it is published at the same time as a wonderful book, The Lives of Amish Women, by Karen Johnson-Weiner, also available through the Johns Hopkins University Press. Dr. Johnson-Weiner is an anthropologist with a long history of research and experience with the Amish, and a book specifically devoted to Amish women has been another glaring omission in the lexicon. 

Serpent in the Garden also has an intrinsic interest for those who study queer theory. This is an unusual use of the theory, and promises to expand its utility, particularly amidst the pushback among subcultural groups to the tolerance of the predominant heteronormative.

My greatest hope is that it serves to move the conversation about the Amish into areas that have been less discussed. Both The Lives of Amish Women and Serpent in the Garden break new ground in the exploration of this Plain people. They are a fascinating people, who deserve our attention. They are too often considered an anachronism. Instead, they offer a mirror into the culture that we espouse as our own. 

AD: Having finished Serpent in the Garden, what are you at work on now? Have you other writings projects in the pipeline?

Always, always, articles and projects tumbling around in my mind. But your question brings to mind the famous quote from Dorothy Parker: “If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favor you can do for them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.”

With that caveat in mind, I do have a third book on the Amish in process. Don Kraybill has for years used the model of Negotiating with Modernity to describe their process of approaching technology. Based on this model, the Amish consider any new technology, and either accept, reject, or compromise with its incorporation, based on the risk it presents to their culture. I expand Kraybill’s model to include social and psychological percepts, and explore the Amish response to several of these innovations, using his model as a framework. This includes, for example, their negotiations with the telephone, culminating with their current dilemma of how to incorporate the smartphone into their culture, the 12-step programs mentioned earlier, and the specific programs to address domestic violence and emotional and psychological disturbance. 

Thanks so much for asking me to do this blog. I had a great time answering your questions, and hope they were useful for your readers! All the best.