In preparation for my meeting with graphologist Maresi de Monchy, I was told to supply a handwritten text on a sheet of unlined paper. The content was irrelevant, the written words enough to analyze my handwriting—and with that, my personality. It sounded strangely old-fashioned, a little like having your palm read or your astrological chart drawn.
And therein lies the main criticism of graphology, the study and analysis of handwriting: you just cough up a few vague generalizations, add a couple of uncertainties and contrasts, and keep it primarily positive and flattering. This is known as the Forer effect, named after Bertram Forer, a psychologist who showed in 1948 that his students found their “individual personality analysis” accurate even though he gave them all the same text from an astrology column. Referring to the Forer effect, and the lack of validation and consensus among practitioners, several damning reports have summarily dismissed graphology.
However, as recently as a few decades ago, graphology was considered standard procedure for evaluating job applicants in the business world. In some countries, such as Switzerland, two-thirds of companies still ask for handwritten letters to analyze a candidate’s personality, ambitions, and work ethic. Today, an accredited degree in graphology is offered at a handful of universities around the world, mainly in Europe, where the “science” of graphology was developed in the late 19th century by Frenchman Jules Crépieux-Jamin. He believed specific handwriting elements correlated with particular human traits. In his system, leaving a narrow margin on the right-hand side of the page, for example, meant you were anti-social.
While to some this may sound like baloney, surprising evidence shows graphology can in fact provide insights at least as valuable as those of psychology. De Monchy led a study at the Open University of the Netherlands that found graphologists and psychologists came up with similar results when they screened clients for leadership qualities, social skills, intelligence, and emotional stability. 150 graphologists analyzed the handwriting of people who were also evaluated according to several personality assessment systems, like the WAIS, a general intelligence test. Both groups came to similar conclusions. Psychologists and graphologists were asked to give scores on a scale of one to five for these four traits, and often even came to the same score for individuals. “This study shows that graphology can be just as valuable as psychology in determining certain aspects of one’s personality,” says De Monchy. “Never before has this been shown in such a rigid way.” The study will be published next year in Global Graphology, the journal of the International Graphological Colloquium in Québec, Canada.
I, however, am somewhat skeptical as I take a seat across from De Monchy, who will be examining my writing sample. De Monchy isn’t just any graphologist. She has more than thirty years of experience, was chairman of the Dutch Association for Graphology and Writing Expertise, vice-chairman of the European Society for Handwriting Psychology, and founder of the Chilean Scientific Graphology Association. She now heads up AGB, a graphological advice bureau in Rhoon, near Rotterdam. We sit at her kitchen table, overlooking the pastures surrounding her house. Most of her clients are businesses interested in knowing whether applicants are suitable for a position or a promotion; others are individuals like me, who want to know more about themselves.
Writing is movement on paper, according to De Monchy. Just as everyone has a unique set of motor skills, each person’s handwriting is also unique. If you spontaneously start to write, it’s probably impossible to present yourself as different than you are, she believes. “Naturally, every sample represents a moment in time,” De Monchy says. “But you cannot deliberately change the fundamental way you move. That is why graphology is a good way to analyze one’s personality.”
To make any analysis at all, a graphologist needs a lengthy sample; after writing about fifteen lines, the writer becomes more caught up in what he or she is writing than how it’s written. De Monchy likes to work with specimens of at least twenty-five lines, preferably accompanied by a signature she calls “one’s business card.” De Monchy rarely reads the samples. She’s more concerned with the picture of the handwriting. Sometimes she even turns the paper upside-down so she can properly analyze the writing. It’s also irrelevant to write the way you may have learned at school. “Scholastically correct” handwriting can even be a bad sign, she says; it can point to a lack of development and individuality.
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By Marco Visscher
Photo courtesy of Ode Magazine