S01E08 — Howard Teten, Patrick Mullany, and the Early Instructors

Behavioral Case Files — Season One

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Cold Open

Institutions often tell origin stories through a few names. Names help us follow decisions, but they can also hide the networks around them. Howard Teten and Patrick Mullany were foundational early instructors. Their importance becomes clearer—not smaller—when we place them inside the Academy, the Bureau, and the wider history of psychology and criminal investigation.

Show Open

You’re listening to Behavioral Case Files—the history of the FBI Behavioral Science Unit and the investigation of serial murder. I’m Herb Trevathan.

Independence

Behavioral Case Files is an independent educational podcast. It is not affiliated with, endorsed by, sponsored by, or produced by the Federal Bureau of Investigation or any other law-enforcement agency.

Episode Promise

This is S01E08: Howard Teten, Patrick Mullany, and the Early Instructors. Today, we’re examining how criminology, psychology, teaching, and institutional opportunity came together in the early behavioral-science program.

Howard Teten’S Path

The FBI’s account describes Teten as a former Marine and California law-enforcement officer whose interest in criminal psychology preceded his Bureau teaching. His approach drew on criminology, case experience, and attempts to infer useful characteristics from crime information.

To understand why that matters, we have to separate what investigators could observe from what they could only infer.

Historical change usually looks cleaner from a distance than it did to the people living through it. Later terminology can make earlier investigators sound as though they were already following a method that had not yet been named. In this series, we will avoid that shortcut. We can recognize continuity without pretending that every older practice was an early version of the same thing.

The source question matters here. An official history can establish when an agency says it created a unit or opened a facility. A memoir can reveal how a participant remembered a decision. A case file can show what was recorded at the time. A research study can test a defined claim. Those sources answer different questions, and none should be made to answer all of them.

Listen for the verbs in any historical claim. Someone observed. Someone believed. Someone taught. Someone tested. Someone later remembered. Those are not interchangeable statements. Keeping the verb attached to the evidence prevents a story about innovation from becoming a story about certainty.

It also leaves room for people whose work rarely appears in origin stories: local detectives, records clerks, laboratory personnel, medical examiners, dispatchers, prosecutors, researchers, victims’ relatives, and witnesses. A specialist idea enters a much larger system, and the system determines whether that idea is checked, ignored, or allowed to dominate.

For a working investigator, that means documenting the basis for a conclusion and recording alternatives that remain possible. It also means revisiting the conclusion when new evidence arrives.

Keep that distinction in mind as we move forward.

Patrick Mullany’S Contribution

Mullany brought formal psychological training. Teten later credited that qualification as an important difference. Their partnership symbolized the meeting of investigative experience with psychological concepts.

The distinction sounds small, but it changes how an investigation uses the idea.

Evidence does not speak without interpretation. A fingerprint may establish contact, but context determines what that contact means. A witness may report what they sincerely remember, but sincerity does not guarantee accuracy. A timeline may expose a contradiction, but the contradiction may have more than one explanation. Good investigation pairs each observation with a question about reliability and relevance.

Behavioral information sits inside that same discipline. The position of an object, the route through a location, or the apparent effort to conceal evidence may support a hypothesis about actions and priorities. Moving from those actions to a stable personality, occupation, age, or biography is a larger inferential step. The farther the conclusion travels from the observable fact, the more explicitly its uncertainty should be stated.

This is one reason documentation matters. If the reasoning is written down, another investigator can ask whether the same evidence supports a different explanation. If the reasoning exists only as a confident impression, it is difficult to review and easy to remember selectively after an arrest.

A disciplined case review therefore asks at least four questions: What do we know? How do we know it? What else could explain it? And what new information would distinguish among those explanations? A behavioral suggestion earns its place by improving that process, not by sounding psychologically sophisticated.

For the public, it means resisting the urge to treat an investigative suggestion as proof. Suspicion, probability, and admissible evidence are not interchangeable.

It will become important again in the next part of the story.

Teaching Creates A Method

A classroom forces an instructor to explain steps, define terms, answer objections, and present examples. What may begin as personal judgment becomes a teachable sequence. That process can improve clarity, but repetition can also turn provisional ideas into tradition.

This is where history becomes more useful than legend, because the record shows gradual change rather than a single breakthrough.

Organizations turn ideas into routines. They assign personnel, create course titles, approve travel, store records, and decide who may speak with authority. Those administrative choices rarely appear in dramatic retellings, yet they determine whether an innovation disappears with its originator or becomes part of professional practice.

Institutional support has two faces. It can provide continuity, peer review, access to cases, and training. It can also reward conformity and protect a familiar method from outside criticism. The same hierarchy that maintains standards can make junior personnel reluctant to challenge a senior expert.

National reach adds another complication. A federal program can gather experiences from many jurisdictions and help agencies compare cases that would otherwise remain isolated. But national status can cause local investigators or the public to treat advice as a command. Consultation works best when responsibilities and confidence levels are clear.

None of this is unique to behavioral analysis. Laboratories, intelligence units, medical systems, and academic disciplines face the same problem: how to preserve expertise without preserving error. The answer is not to distrust every institution. It is to build records, review, measurement, and correction into the institution’s normal work.

For historians, it means reading institutional accounts beside archival records, oversight findings, and independent scholarship. No single source can carry the whole story.

That is the context behind the milestone—not a miracle, but an institutional response to a difficult problem.

Case Consultation And Feedback

When instructors advise on real cases, outcomes can shape future teaching. Successful suggestions are memorable; failures and vague predictions may be forgotten. Without systematic records, this creates hindsight and selection bias.

There is also a caution here: a method can be appealing before anyone has measured how often it is right.

A useful limitation is not a disclaimer added after the conclusion. It changes the conclusion itself. If scene information is incomplete, the range of possible explanations must stay wider. If a comparison sample is small or selected, the result should not be generalized as though it represents every offender or every crime.

False positives deserve as much attention as memorable hits. A broad description may include the eventual offender, yet also include thousands of people who had nothing to do with the crime. Investigative value depends on whether advice helps prioritize lawful, evidence-based work without turning ordinary characteristics into suspicion.

There is a human consequence to error. A mistaken theory can consume investigative hours, intensify scrutiny of an innocent person, reinforce stereotypes, or delay attention to another lead. The cost is not erased because the consultant acted in good faith.

The responsible alternative is calibrated language: more consistent with, less consistent with, possible, conditional, or unsupported by the available information. Calibrated language may sound less impressive than certainty. It is usually more honest and more useful.

For a behavioral consultant, it means stating limitations as clearly as findings. Confidence should be earned by the information, not borrowed from a title or location.

The lesson is not to reject expertise. It is to ask expertise to show its work.

Other Contributors And Later Expansion

Jack Kirsch led the new unit. Robert Ressler joined later. Ann Burgess and additional collaborators helped bring structure and research methods to later offender interviews. No single inventor accounts for the field’s development.

The practical question is not whether the idea sounds persuasive. It is whether it produces a testable, proportionate next step.

Oversight is part of competence, not an enemy of it. Legal review asks whether a proposed action respects rights and authority. Scientific review asks whether a claim can be tested and replicated. Editorial review asks whether the public account is fair, sourced, and proportionate. Each form of review catches a different kind of failure.

History shows why those checks cannot depend on reputation alone. An institution may perform valuable work and still commit serious abuses. A respected expert may offer useful insight and still overstate a conclusion. The correct response is not to choose one permanent label—hero or fraud—but to evaluate acts and claims with evidence.

Transparency also improves learning. If unsuccessful consultations disappear from the record, later practitioners see an inflated picture of success. If vague statements are counted as accurate after the fact, the method can appear predictive without having made a risky prediction. Evaluation must preserve misses, ambiguities, and cases in which investigators did not use the advice.

Public storytelling carries its own obligation. The dramatic version of a case often assigns causation to the most interesting contribution. The documented version may show that an arrest followed records work, a witness, forensic evidence, or an ordinary patrol encounter. Credit should follow the record, even when the record is less cinematic.

For families and communities, the difference is not academic. A poorly framed theory can consume time, amplify stigma, or direct attention away from stronger leads.

That standard protects both the investigation and the people affected by it.

Biography With Boundaries

The early instructors deserve historical attention, but biography is not validation. A compelling career story cannot answer whether a particular inference was accurate, replicable, or useful. Those questions require evidence beyond memory.

That brings us back to the central rule of this series: an inference must remain open to correction by evidence.

The value of studying an origin is that it reveals choices. People chose what to teach, what to call the work, which cases to remember, which offenders to interview, and which outcomes to publish. Different choices might have produced a different field. That is why the present should not be treated as the inevitable endpoint of the past.

It is equally important not to judge every early decision by knowledge that became available decades later. Historical context explains why an idea was plausible and why professionals adopted it. Context does not exempt the idea from present-day evaluation; it helps us ask a fairer question about what was knowable at the time.

Across this season, the recurring tension is between insight and system. Individual insight may open a productive line of inquiry. A system must decide how to record it, test it, communicate it, and prevent it from hardening into bias. The history of the BSU is compelling because that tension never fully disappears.

So the takeaway from this section is deliberately modest. Behavioral reasoning can organize questions and expose patterns. It cannot manufacture evidence, determine guilt, or eliminate uncertainty. Its legitimacy depends on whether practitioners remember those boundaries when the pressure to solve a case is greatest.

For this podcast, it means leaving some questions unresolved. Honest uncertainty is more useful than a polished answer the evidence cannot support.

And it gives us a clearer way to judge what came next.

Season Thread

Season One follows the path from ordinary investigative reasoning to an organized behavioral-science program at Quantico. The point is not to celebrate every claim or dismiss every contribution. It is to understand how the work developed, what evidence supported it, and where confidence moved faster than validation.

As you listen, notice the difference between a verified organizational date, a participant’s recollection, an investigative hypothesis, and a finding tested through research. They belong in the same history, but they do not carry the same weight.

Closing

That’s this case file. Source links and a transcript are included with the episode notes. If a factual correction is needed, it will be documented publicly rather than changed without explanation.

In the next episode, we continue the Season One chronology and examine the institutions, people, and ideas that moved behavioral analysis from conversation into practice.

I’m Herb Trevathan. Thank you for listening to Behavioral Case Files.

Howard Teten, Patrick Mullany, and the Early Instructors