The Lie Detectors

December 18, 2006
Adler (The Measure of All Things
) spins a yarn of scientific innovation and personal vituperation set against the backdrop of mid-20th-century America. In a steady, workmanlike way, he weaves together the lives and careers of the triumvirate responsible for "America's mechanical conscience." Developed in 1921 by John Larson, a cop with a Ph.D. in physiology, the lie detector was championed by Berkeley police chief August Vollmer and further refined by Leonarde Keeler, a jack-of-all-trades and relentless self-promoter. Sadly, the three men, who had worked well together, fell prey to jealousy and infighting that destroyed their friendship. While painting a rich, complex portrait of these men, Adler remains admirably skeptical of the machine itself, which he says is a uniquely American invention, designed to satisfy "a nation obsessed by criminal disorder and political corruption." Adler's skepticism places him in line with the scientific community: study after study has found that polygraphing techniques "do not pass scientific muster." Though this account is densely packed with dramatic material, Adler fails to bring it fully to life. 8 pages of b&w photos.

February 1, 2007
Although not always reliable, lie detectors, or polygraph machines, have been used to uncover lies for generations. They represent a technological breakthrough in which an instrument tests a person's body signals to reveal indications of whether he or she is lying. Alder (history & humanities, Northwestern Univ.; "The Measure of All Things") details the story behind the invention of the machine by John Larson and Leonard Keeler in the 1920s. He explains that, initially, lie detectors gave the nation hope that political corruption, adultery, murder, espionage, and so on would all come to light, ultimately leading to a utopian society. And indeed, Larson and Keeler moved from Berkeley, CA, to Chicago to apply their device toward fighting crime. Alder also provides an extensive review of Larson's and Keeler's lives (they ended up rivals and enemies). For its general review of the history of lie detectors and its breadth of information, this book is recommended for large public libraries.Tim Delaney, SUNY at Oswego

Copyright 2007 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

December 15, 2006
A historian of science whose account of the meter (" The Measure of All Things," 2002) was hugely popular, Alder here wires up another fascinating story. A two-track approach guides his tale of the polygraph: the lives of two men who in the 1920s launched the "cardio-pneumo-psychograph," as one of them dubbed the machine, and American society's peculiar receptivity to a device that has never passed scientific muster. The polygraph has, however, acquired a reputation for squeezing admissions from its subjects. Precisely how it sort of sorts liars from truth tellers divided Alder's two central characters. John Larson obsessed about creating an objective protocol for the polygraph, while Leonarde Keeler developed interrogation techniques that exploited the subject's anxiety about the machine. Over time, Keeler's practicality won over business, law enforcement, and the national security complex, while Larson's pursuit of perfection made him an increasingly eccentric figure. This engrossing portrait of two lives ruled by the lie detector is enhanced by Alder's cultural clarity about the credence accorded to the mechanical confessional.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2006, American Library Association.)