Kenneth Glad
More than 50 years after a six-day siege in Sweden gave the term its name, the story behind it is being re-examined with closer attention to who shaped the narrative.
A psychological term repeated in crime reporting, courtrooms and popular culture is facing renewed scrutiny. “Stockholm syndrome” is often treated as established fact, yet researchers and survivors continue to question whether it was ever scientifically grounded.
The phrase is commonly used to explain why victims appear to sympathise with captors, including in legal defence arguments and media coverage of abuse cases. Despite that reach, it has never been formally recognised in leading psychiatric manuals.
In her book, See What You Made Me Do, journalist Jess Hill argues the concept gained influence without clinical evidence, driven largely by interpretation rather than research. Its authority, she suggests, comes more from repetition than proof.
Beth Collier, writing in her Substack Curious Minds, traces how the idea expanded beyond Sweden. She reports that New York police psychologist Dr Harvey Schlossberg promoted the concept within US law enforcement to help officers interpret hostage situations, after which it spread through FBI training programmes.
Scepticism emerged early. In his book Six Days in August, historian David King notes that critics once described it as “schlock science parading about as certified scholarship.”
Hostage negotiator Dr James Alvarez, cited in the same book, said: “I’ve never seen it live in the field.” It is a blunt assessment, and it still carries weight.
What happened in Stockholm
The term originates from an August 1973 bank robbery in Stockholm, when Jan-Erik Olsson entered a bank, fired shots and declared: “The party has just begun!” Four people, including 23-year-old Kristin Enmark, were held during the six-day siege.
Early interpretations by police and media focused on what they saw as an unusual bond between captors and hostages. Later accounts suggest something more complex.
“I believed a maniac had come into my life,” Enmark told The New Yorker in 1974.
According to Collier’s reporting, Clark Olofsson, a fellow criminal brought into the bank by police, helped stabilise the situation. She writes that he reassured hostages, loosened restraints and told journalists: “I am on the poor girls’ side.”
Hostages later described small acts that reduced fear. Elisabeth Oldgren said: “They have been real gentlemen toward us,” a comment widely reported at the time.
Distrust of authorities also grew. In a recorded call cited by ABC News, Enmark told Prime Minister Olof Palme: “I am very disappointed. I think you are sitting there playing checkers with our lives.” She warned she feared police action could be fatal.
A label that shaped perception
Those moments became the foundation of a broader theory. Psychiatrist Nils Bejerot, who advised police but never interviewed the hostages, coined what became known as Stockholm syndrome.
The people involved challenged that interpretation. Sven Säfström rejected speculation about abuse, saying: “There was no intimate relationship.”
Enmark has consistently said her actions were about survival. “It is impossible to imagine how it feels to be under death threats,” she said years later.
And yet the label endured.
As both Hill and King suggest in different ways, the term persists because it offers a simple explanation for behaviour that is far more complex.
Its continued use in media and legal settings raises a harder question: When victims act in unexpected ways, are we understanding them — or forcing their experiences into a narrative that was never quite accurate?
Sources: ABC News, Curious Minds (Substack) by Beth Collier, See What You Made Me Do by Jess Hill, Six Days in August by David King
