Andreas Lubitz and The Babadook—More than a Mouthful?

The Babadook is an Australian psychological horror film as frightening and fascinating as its name is fun to speak. The two main characters are troubled, if not deeply disturbed by a source and presence they do not understand. And, lately, we have been troubled, if not deeply disturbed by news reports of Andreas Lubitz. So what do these two have in common?

Andreas Lubitz, co-pilot, possibly suicidal and probably the mass murderer of 149 passengers on Germanwings’ Flight 9525, appears to have been quite troubled—a state of being either missed or dismissed by himself and others. Taking one’s own life, tragic as that is, often involves recognition of personal pain and suffering—and the wish to end it. The grandiosity of mass murder suggests more was at play in his soul.

Pay attention to your lips—Babadook and Lubitz—beyond the “fun-feel” we may experience while pronouncing these words lurks a dark and sinister “monster.”

In The Myth of Mental Illness, Thomas Szasz dismisses the label “mentally ill,” preferring to see people with psychological problems as people “disabled by living.” He espouses the idea that people “learn about themselves, others, and life” through soul-searching introspection, which can be an arduous task and something many of us may resist, but ought to do.

The tragedy of Flight #9525, whatever the cause of its crash and Lubitz’s complicity, demands closure. Many people have claimed that the co-pilot was mentally ill, which suggests that a cure existed. I prefer Szasz’s term. The concept that he may have been “disabled by living” intimates a personal responsibility to learn about himself and others—a journey he may or may not have undertaken. Lubitz may have appeared “different” to others as do the characters in the film, but when we hide our demons, our brokenness from ourselves and others, we court disaster—not always, but too often.

In The Babadook, at least in my interpretation, the horrific monster is the projection of unexplored or denied grief and rage—two normal responses to a tragic event that has traumatized a mother and her son. A child’s pop-out book depicts the babadook in a cartoonish yet terrifying manner.

But the consequences of unaddressed disabilities brought on by living are not fanciful, and though we often need to make caricatures of our “demons” and conflict in order to cope, we are best served by exposing them to ourselves, learning about them, and integrating them into our lives.

When I was a child, emotions were given expression through my actions and utterances, including made-up words that passed through my lips with pleasure, hurt, or sadness attached to them. I was a guileless boy, who in short order learned how to suppress thoughts and feelings that emanated from darker places in my young soul.

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