Professor Robert Schug on music, mayhem and the myths of true crime

At first glance, Cal State Long Beach Professor Robert Schug looks more like a musician than a scientist - long hair, black T-shirt, a steampunk skull on a shelf in his office. But behind the heavy-metal vibe is one of California's leading forensic psychologists, a man who merges brain science, jailhouse evaluations and academic research to make sense of extreme violence.

In addition to teaching in the School of Criminology, Criminal Justice and Emergency Management, Schug - a licensed psychologist - routinely conducts mental health evaluations of violent criminals and serves on an elite panel of court-approved expert witnesses in Los Angeles County. At CSULB, Schug's course titled Serial Killers and Psychopaths attracts a waiting list of both undergrads and graduate students year after year. He has published groundbreaking work, including a textbook he uses in his classes, and is called on frequently by the media to share his unique insights. That said, you'd be forgiven for mistaking Schug for a musician; he moonlights as the lead singer of Shoreline Kings, a hard-rock band.

We sat down to talk with Schug about the impact of true-crime culture on his coursework, his favorite class trips and how he teaches students to see humans where others see monsters.

Q: What initially drew you to the study of serial killers?

Robert Schug: Honestly, and it just sounds so cheesy, but it was "Silence of the Lambs."In 1991, I saw it in a Glendale movie theater. I was doing other things at the time, but I just walked out of there and - not to be melodramatic - it was life-changing for me. I was just thinking about the criminal mind and using science to understand it. I knew I couldn't be Clarice Starling, but becoming a forensic psychologist seemed like, you know, Clarice Starling-adjacent.

Q: In your Serial Killers and Psychopaths course, you talk about high-profile offenders, from Ted Bundy to Aileen Wuornos, alongside schizophrenia, psychopathy and sexual disorders. These are pretty click-baity topics. How do you prioritize learning over lore?

RS: I know people are going to enroll because there's already a cultural fascination, and in many ways, I have the benefit of the public interest in true crime. But I feel like it's my duty to really give them substantive, real-world information instead of just, you know, war stories and rehashed media myths. I expose them to rigorous course material. It's like being a parent serving a meal; I make sure to include broccoli along with the candy.

Q: And your book, "Mental Illness and Crime" (2014) - is that part of the broccoli?

RS: I joke with my students a lot that it's a really boring book. It's dense with information. But I think it has value in showing the clickbait crowd that this is the real deal. If you want a TikTok video, this is probably not the best place for you. I say that in the beginning of every class, too. I say, "If you're here because it fits in your schedule, welcome. Happy to have you. But I'm not teaching this class for you. I'm teaching the class for the people who are passionate about the topic and want to learn more."

Q: What myths about serial killers do you find yourself correcting year after year?

RS: I think the number one thing I come out of the gate with is this: There are no monsters. I might have a reaction to what a person has done, but I want to understand who they are as a human. And if you're good at this job and you sit with someone, you can begin to see their humanness before too long. You can understand why they did it. It doesn't mean you have to agree with it, but you can get it. So, I'm dispelling the monster myth. I'm humanizing the whole thing.

Q: Your syllabus mentions guest lectures, videos and even field trips. What makes an experience in-bounds for this class?

RS: For my forensic psychology class, pre-COVID, we would go to Twin Towers jail [in Los Angeles], and that was priceless. Twin Towers is actually the largest mental health facility this side of the Mississippi River. It was there during my own training that I saw mental illness for the first time in its raw, real form. COVID put an end to that, but I can see that coming back online soon.

Q: Now, about your long hair and choice of attire. . .

RS: Sometimes we talk about multiple truths of the criminal justice system. I think I'm sort of a living multiple truth. Can a person be an academic, but also be in the trenches, but also be in a band? Certainly, when I'm testifying in court, I'll wear a suit and a tie - but I like to have this alter ego that I can step into. Also, what I do is stressful. Anytime I'm in a room with a criminal defendant, there is a transaction that occurs, interpersonally: I leave some of my energy with them - which usually brightens them - but I also absorb and take away all that negativity. That has to go somewhere. I feel like playing super loud rock music and screaming is a catharsis for me. Everyone needs an outlet. Most guys my age play golf. This is my golf game.