What was wrong with Caligula and why are bad leaders so toxic?

 Caligula: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Ruler?

When you think of history’s worst leaders, one name almost always comes up: Caligula. Over the years, films and books have painted him as the ultimate villain—cruel, paranoid, sexually perverse, and hopelessly corrupt. He became emperor in his twenties, and within just a few years, he was assassinated.

It’s easy to see why he’s remembered as the ultimate “bad ruler.” But here’s the twist: many of the most shocking stories about him probably aren’t true.

Take the infamous tale of him making his horse consul. Great story, but ancient sources suggest it never really happened. Same with the rumours about incest with his sister—his enemies never mentioned it at the time, which makes it pretty unlikely. Even his supposed unpopularity has been exaggerated. In reality, it looks like later historians—and Hollywood—added layers of scandal to make him seem even more monstrous.

So, what was really going on with Caligula?

The Medical Mystery

In 2024, I stumbled across a fascinating paper on Google Scholar that tried to answer this question. The researchers weren’t debating his politics—they were trying to diagnose his health.

The leading theory? Epilepsy. Members of the Julian family (to which Caligula belonged) were known to have it, and ancient writers mention he suffered from the “falling sickness” as a child. He would lose consciousness, suffer fevers, and—according to sources—barely sleep more than three hours a night. Combine that with anxiety and erratic moods, and the picture of an unstable young emperor starts to make sense.

But epilepsy wasn’t the only possibility. Another factor could have been alcohol. Romans often sweetened their wine with sapa—a grape syrup boiled in lead pots. That meant every sip contained traces of lead acetate. Modern tests on Roman bones show aristocrats had much higher levels of lead than slaves—because they drank more wine. If Caligula was a heavy drinker, his mental decline may well have been made worse by lead poisoning.

When you put all that together, his bizarre behaviour—sudden mood swings, strange laughter, cruelty, hypersexuality, depression, paranoia—reads less like random madness and more like symptoms of epileptic psychosis, possibly worsened by lead toxicity. Some historians even think he suffered a severe seizure in 37 CE that left him permanently changed.

A Childhood in Trauma

Even before becoming emperor, Caligula’s life was scarred by tragedy. He suffered seizures as a toddler. When he was seven, his father was assassinated. By fourteen, his mother and brothers had been executed by Emperor Tiberius, and his sisters were exiled. Strangely, ancient writers note that he showed little emotion through it all.

By twenty, he was living with Tiberius on Capri—the very man who had destroyed his family. Tiberius himself was painted by historians as a reclusive tyrant, infamous for cruelty and disturbing behaviour. Growing up in that toxic environment almost certainly shaped Caligula’s own brutal reign.

The Bigger Picture

Corrupt emperors like Caligula didn’t just terrorise their inner circles. They poisoned the entire system. Fear trickled down from the palace into every corner of Roman life. Violence, paranoia, and corruption spread like wildfire. Public life became dangerous, politics a death trap, and the very foundations of Roman society began to rot.  Caligula may have been sick, traumatised, and unstable. But he was also emperor—and when absolute power mixes with personal instability, the result can devastate a whole civilisation.

"All men have been created to carry forward an ever-advancing civilisation ... Those virtues that befit his dignity are forbearance, mercy, compassion and loving-kindness towards all the peoples and kindreds of the earth". 

Baháʼí Writings

Kneading love into broken bodies and minds

In a cubicle in a darkened ward, I heard a murmur behind drawn curtains around my neighbour’s bed. It was two nurses changing the soiled bed linen. As they worked in the semi-darkness they whispered about the nightclub jaunt and they had been on the weekend before. I could make out the muffled laughter as they describe the events. Not a word from the patient on the bed.  Only a grunt of pain as they turned the dead weight between them. Sores develop when bodies lie too long on one spot. Nursing staff must regularly turn their charges like bacon on the grill, to avoid the burden of a bed sore. The patient, now immobile, cannot turn themselves to find relief. They await the mercy of others.

These two nurses giggle as they work quickly to complete their tasks. Their rubber gloves allow cleaning to be brisk and impersonal. Job done and with a laugh, over her shoulder, the gloves were discarded in a nearby container. Hand wash was dispensed and then they both emerged from behind the curtain. One whispers to the other, “it was awful crazy that last dance, I could barely stand!”

Her co-worker sniggered something I could not hear. Whatever it was, it triggered an outburst of hysterical laughter. In response, the inert figure groaned again from the bed. They left whispering confidences down the long corridor, shoes squeaking annoyingly.   

I remember having my first massage aged 50. I had waited half a century but it was worth it. As my cousin and I lay in opulent luxury at a lovely spa I was amazed what a good massage can do. These hands soothed muscles taut with stress and even penetrated deep tissue. Finding the points where pain lingers and working them free as if untying a knot.

It is an art form this craft. Masters of the trade can do real magic with their hands. I was delighted, inside one week, to be given a second voucher to a different spa.  Anticipating the same treatment, I was disappointed. It was obvious this masseur did not want to touch me. I felt her disdain through her fingertips and voice. My skin screamed its dislike of this touch. Every time her hand poked or prodded me I wanted to withdraw into the couch. To disappear completely from view or touch. It was such a relief when it was over. A long, long hour that felt as long as the 50 years that preceded it. Feeling foolish and frankly abused I left. I’d learned a lesson of sorts just not sure what?

Then this week, 10 years later I got some insights on the whole business.  Fourteen language students visited our home for a meal.  The eldest was in his 30s and was an Italian masseur with his own business in Sicily. I asked this professional about my experience at the hands of these two different masseurs.

He happily explained that physical touch conveys so much. Even one’s mood! A bad attitude is transferred to a client immediately through touch. As I described my horrid experience and its mechanics he nodded knowingly. “When you begin a massage”, he explained, “with a client and touch them you should never let go of that touch until the complete massage is over”. Apparently, touch is so personal and private you cannot afford to discard physical contact with them and then with touch intrude again. Instead, when moving on to massage a leg or arm you leave one hand always in place and only having touched and stroked the new area allow the remaining hand to be removed. The sudden withdrawal of touch in the midst of a massage is interpreted as neglect/antipathy for the client who is aware of everything through your fingertips. Care or indeed indifference is conveyed through the hands as effectively as fingerprints on a crime scene. He pointed out that the hands of a masseur should be warmed before being applied. As he spoke of how emotion can be conveyed through simple touch the vital importance of respect became clear. That it has to colour every interaction. The tone of one’s voice, respect for privacy and always permission sought for each physical interaction.

It made me think of a famous doctor who has made a medical examination into a kind of art form at Harvard. Taking care to perfect his physical examination with practice and reflection he now teaches these forgotten skills to other doctors. At a time when blood tests and scans dominate their methodology, he believes in the power of the doctor’s touch. This physical touch during medical examination, he is sure, should be an expression of concern, gentle but perceptive and can provide a deep reassurance that comforts a worried or ill patient.

It made me think of that silent patient groaning behind the curtains on the darkened hospital ward. Lifted and turned with such cavalier indifference. I know our staff have so little time, understaffed and overworked. I understand all that, but I really wish the importance of touch was taught to all. How to do it with love and respect. How spirits are soothed by the presence of mindful hands. When voices are silenced and patients withdraw beneath their skin how wonderful if loving hands caressed that wounded spirit and kneaded love into broken bodies and minds.

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