Science
Eye of the Beholder: Why We Find Disembodied Peepers Unsettling, and How They Might Make Us Better Humans
From art history to psychology, all eyeballs are oddballs
In October I stumbled into Los Angeles’ Oddities Flea Market, an event I’d wanted to attend for ages. The market was a glorious mishmash of taxidermy, potions, and goth aesthetics. But I was after one booth in particular: Eyeba Eye Jewelry.
“Does this ring match my eyes?”
Of course, I wasn’t asking whether the color complemented my complexion in the dimly lit theater. No, I was asking, “Does this Victorian glass eyeball ring look like the grey-blue orbs currently lodged in my head?” I walked away with a small — albeit uncanny — piece for everyday wear. Please, if you see me in the next few days, kindly tell me that my historic eyeball ring is very nice.
But wait, why was a glass eyeball ring at an oddities event?
Most of us don’t find the eyeballs in our heads creepy or odd. True, making eye contact is challenging for some. Others might have ommetaphobia or fear of eyes.
Are all eyeballs oddballs? And if so, why?
Disembodied organs of any kind remind us of death. There’s nothing scarier than the idea that something might be watching us. But this perception that someone is looking can also help us make better decisions.
And the closer glass eyeballs approximate the real deal, they risk falling somewhere within the Uncanny Valley, where art and machines start to freak us out.
There’s a lot to unpack here.
Let’s take a look.
Fear of eyeballs: talking is hard
Here’s the thing about eye contact: it makes me squirm. It’s too intimate.
When someone looks into your eyes, they can read your thoughts.
Of course, they can’t decipher your unspoken words, your hidden motives. They can’t read your thoughts any more than you see theirs. But the idea that my eyes give off too much emotion scares me. My eyes betray my unspoken inner monologue and threaten to ruin every social interaction.
“It’s social anxiety. Didn’t you see? I never look at you when I speak.”
“I thought you did that so that you could concentrate better.”
“That’s part of it. But if I get too much information from your eyes, or show too much emotion in mine — that’s enough to make me clam up.
Uncomfiness aside, there are plenty of situations in which I can make direct eye contact, with no problem.
I make eye contact with guests at work. I make eye contact when working through challenges with my boss, or with my roommates. But if I’m navigating a conversation with a friend, or having an especially difficult mental health day? My eyeballs find other things to do instead.
I often find eye contact unsettling. But I’m not afraid of eyeballs.
Ommetaphobia describes an extreme fear of eyes. This phobia may interfere with your daily life, but it’s treatable through cognitive behavioral therapy.
So while eye contact may be uncomfortable for some of us, and eyeballs spark phobias in others, this doesn’t explain why disembodied eyeballs are creepy.
We’ll need to turn to history to explain their appalling appeal.
Eyeballs in medicine and art
Eyes in medicine and mourning
The first recorded prosthetic eye made out of gold-plated clay dates back to 2900 BCE Iran. By the 16th century, this type of prosthesis got an upgrade. Glass eye production shifted from Venice to Paris and Germany as glass-blowing techniques improved.
But glass eyes were problematic — glass shortages during World War II limited production. And the suction created by these prostheses sometimes caused the artificial eyeball to explode without warning. Later models produced in the United States following World War II used an acrylic plastic base. These acrylic eyes are still popular today.
What about prosethic glass eyeball rings?
Goth aesthetics often dip into Victorian themes. The history of glass eyeballs and mourning jewelry contributes to its oddity.
Glass eyeballs and ocular motifs are common characteristics in art history. Victorian mourning rings might use the deceased person’s glass eyeball. Earlier 18th-century mini-eye paintings have been used to remember a lover whose identity needed to remain a secret.
These sentimental symbols were practical, if off-putting. Sure, a ring made from Uncle Ferdinand’s glass eyeball would be an adequate way to remember his life, but a locket with his hair might have worked as well. And there were certainly other, equally discreet ways to pay homage to your hidden lover.
But other eyeballs throughout history have remained stylish for much less practical reasons.
You see my friends, some eyes are magic.
Eye of Ra and Eye of Horus
Digging a bit further back in the historical archive, we find the Eye of Ra, a potent symbol of the Egyptian sun god. It’s a sign for creation of humanity, and the swift judgment dealt by his daughter Sekmet.
Its counterpart, the Eye of Horus, is a good-luck charm that protects the wearer from physical or psychic harm. The Eye of Ra sees everything going on in the world of the living, while the Eye of Horus glimpses into the world beyond.
The evil eye
In the Mediterranean, we find a similar talisman employed to stave off the curse of the evil eye. Amulets designed to ward off the evil eye curse date as far back as 3,300 BC.
Described as early as the first century in Plutarch’s Symposiacs, this curse supposedly came from malicious rays emitted by the human eye. They bounced off the object of desire and — Poof! The recipient got instant bad luck.
The evil eye curse describes deadly jealousy. Whether you wanted the curse’s recipient to suffer, your jealousy could create mischief for others. In extreme cases, the curse could even cause the death of a child or lead to financial ruin. Most believers in the evil eye wear eyeball jewelry to ward off the judgy curse.
The Eye of Providence
In the third millennium BCE, the Sumerians made the eyes on some of their statues very large to show that they were watching the actions of travelers below. They also held ceremonies during which artists brought the sculptures to life by ‘opening’ the figures’ eyes. These traditions underline the importance of eyeball motifs and the idea that deities would watch over the living.
Later Renaissance paintings such as Pontormo’s 1525 Supper at Emmaus depict that floating eyeball we know so well from the US one-dollar note. This was meant to show that God was looking upon this particular scene.
This eyeball lies in a triangular halo to signal that God sits at the top of the Trinity, watching over all creation.
This Eye of Providence made it onto US currency after some decision in 1782. That’s when Secretary of the Continental Congress Charles Thomson and artist William Barton co-designed the Great Seal of the United States of America. The unfinished pyramid on the seal was intended to symbolize “strength and duration.” Its 13 levels represented the 13 original states of the US.
Later, the Freemasons and the Illuminati used this symbol to signal that God was watching over them. That’s it. No other covert symbolism need apply.
The Eye of Providence itself was a widespread motif by the time these groups co-opted these symbols. So while this eyeball might remain offputting to the modern viewer, the Eye of Providence shown on the US one-dollar bill doesn’t always state a secret agenda.
Next, let’s dive in to where eyeballs are a reason to panic.
The following eyeballs are big red flags
Windows to the (possessed) soul
Eyes in art can also show us that something is very wrong with a person.
If someone’s eyes turn white or their pupils flood the edges of their vision, you’re likely dealing with possession. And depending on your cultural background, possession might even be a good thing.
But most Western cultures find possession at least a little bit unsettling. So if your eyes suddenly roll back into your head or suddenly sprout a second pupil, you’re not in charge anymore. Something darker has taken hold.
When possession is on the table, odd eyeballs can tell us when danger is near.
Eyes in a surveillance state
In literature and film, disembodied eyeballs are authoritarian and alien. TV Tropes adds that “alone, eyeballs are fragile spheres of gel only vaguely reminiscent of their usual purpose of subtle social cues,” and this communication disconnect paves the way for eyeballs to signal an evil agenda.
Recall George Orwell’s 1984, surveillance states, and fictional depictions (see earlier section) of the Illuminati. All these grim outfits have a signature eye insignia — whether that be the eye of the state or the eye of cameras watching from some unseen location.
Direct eye contact is the prerogative of predators. Making prolonged, unflinching eye contact is a way of establishing dominance among vertebrates. It’s not that big of a leap, then to associate an all-seeing eye with a predatory organization.
A disembodied, all-seeing eyeball is something uncanny masquerading as a human. And we find that very unsettling indeed.
Uncanny Valley
Many humans fear androids (the robot kind, not the convenient and cheap phone model.) We can’t seem to get their faces right.
As robot designs become less cutesy and more humanlike, they approach the Uncanny Valley. Here, attempts to make robots look and behave just like us backfire. Their almost-but-not-quite-correct facial expressions start to creep us out.
While some studies suggest that this uncanniness comes from robots’ lacking human social cues, other research suggests that it comes from our brains not processing these faces in the same way that we process other stimuli in our brain’s reward system.
Scientific literature further supports this uncanny effect on eyeballs. More research participants tended to look away from human-like eyes with different color sclera in this study. Others rated a figure edited so that his eyes were no longer visible more uncanny than a nose-less version of the same photo in this publication.
Natural eyes can make us wary. Unnatural eyes can throw us for a loop. But can the notion that we are being watched ever be a good thing?
Ps-EYE-cology
Does supervision make us better humans?
Answers vary. This study shows that research participants were more likely to wash their hands upon reading a “Please Wash Your Hands” sign decorated with stylized eyes. Even though the eyes in question weren’t real, bathroom visitors were perhaps more likely to wash their hands due to the watching eyes effect, or the idea that people act more altruistically when they believe they are being watched.
But does the perception that we are being watched make us act better, or does it merely make us behave in a way that’s considered socially acceptable?
Research across similar studies suggests that watching eyes don’t necessarily make humans better or more generous. But the watching eyes effect may be more effective at limiting antisocial behavior than CCTV cameras, which means that adding more eye decals to public signs could be a cheap way to nudge shoppers (and bathroom visitors) in the right direction.
Why are disembodied peepers unsettling?
Eyeballs remind us that we are being watched. These creepy peepers make us alter our behaviors. Eye decals on public signs could alter our behavior for the better. But watch out! Uncanny eyeballs trigger something uncomfortable in visitors. Too many eye decals remind us of nefarious surveillance states. Or the idea that we could soon become prey.
Eyeball history oozes into mourning jewelry, magic, and obscure references to an all-seeing Pantocrator. It’s why we have a giant eyeball sculpture in Houston. It’s why surrealist artists like John Vochatzer strike something uncomfortable and weird within us.
And yes, I’m a little afraid of making eye contact. But with a new eyeball ring looking out for me and a new understanding of why these little oddballs creep us out, a little discomfort is nothing to bat an eye at.
