Beautiful Game
© Martin Argles for the GuardianA test on former SAS member Andy McNab, pictured giving a lecture at an army camp, revealed a severe lack of empathy and emotion – a trait prevalent in some of the best managers I have played under.
Top players display traits shared by psychopaths because it is often about the achievement of the individual rather than the team.

I have been reading a lot about psychopaths lately. Before anyone has cause for concern, I do not mean the murderous type, I mean individuals who appear to display psychopathic tendencies in pursuing their everyday lives according to studies of them. They may be high-flying City workers or politicians. Or even Premier League footballers.

At first glance that might sound far-fetched, but consider that recent research has likened the behaviour of former US presidents such as Theodore Roosevelt, JFK and George W Bush to that of psychopaths. Before we go any further let's be clear: being a psychopath does not mean you are about to harm someone. In any case it takes a clinical assessment to diagnose someone as a psychopath.

What we do know is that psychopaths share common traits. They can be charismatic, charming, manipulative, ambitious, invested in self-gain and deceptive. In fact, by those characteristics, you could be looking at a close description of some of the best footballers in the world - from diving cheats to global stars.

Muhammad Ali said if he had not been a boxer he would have been the best binman in the world instead. That kind of drive is celebrated in our society, but it is not normal.

And, arguably, it comes at cost to everyone else because it's about the achievement of the individual over the masses. Likewise, I have had team-mates for whom winning a match was all about them.

That's because the old adage about there being no "i" in team is naive. There are always 11 individuals in a starting line-up, it's just that some have more of a team ethos than others. Take Gary and Phil Neville. I remember speaking to Phil once and he said he would never, ever criticise his team-mates. But I've met plenty of footballers who are more than happy to slate a team-mate to make themselves look good.

That's because so much is about self-promotion. Think back to the goal celebrations you have witnessed. There's always one player who runs from the other side of the pitch to congratulate the goalscorer - just in time to look right into the camera. Look back over those photographs, who stands out, the goalscorer? Or the guy leaping on his back and staring straight into the camera, or saluting the fans in the stand. Who is the goal about? The team? Or the individual?

What about those players who have moved from team to team throughout their career (of which, admittedly, I am one). Those players, I know from experience, tend to be more about themselves than any kind of team ethos. They have to be, it's a kind of self-preservation. One question I often get asked is: "Do you keep in touch with your former team-mates?" Never. When you leave, you move on. Does that make me a psychopath? I did score highly on a test I took but then I would question a test which requires you to answer honestly the question "Are you a pathological liar?"

On which point, are footballers pathological liars? They may not think so, but many habitually lie to further their careers. They routinely lie to the media, hiding behind cliches such as "the lads played well today", or pledging their loyalty to a club. Perhaps you can't blame them. Being honest can leave you wide open to criticism. On the occasions when I have given an honest opinion those words have haunted me for years - from admitting to playing too much PlayStation, to confessing to my lack of preparation for an England game. Was I the first player to have committed either of those sins? Of course not, and I won't be the last. You just probably won't hear it from anyone else.

Players also habitually lie about their fitness - even to their club's medical staff. Arguably they have to. They are ambitious. They want to play. They want to get their appearance bonus. A rival might take their place - or perhaps that's just how they rationalise it to themselves.

A test on the former SAS sergeant Andy McNab revealed a severe lack of empathy and emotion - a trait that is prevalent in some of the best managers I have played under. As the cliche goes, there's no such thing as a nice manager. Anyone who has experienced football's youth system will tell you that such cold-blooded traits are drummed into footballers from a young age.

As an apprentice you are subjected to repeated verbal abuse and bullying from your team-mates, the idea being that by the time you step on to the pitch and hear that same abuse from the stands, you hardly flinch. You have been desensitised. You are ready to play top-flight football.

Of course having psychopathic tendencies doesn't make you a great footballer in itself. You need talent for that. But it is striking the parallels that can be drawn. Perhaps one day the Moneyball approach to sports tactics will be restyled into psychological profiling. Then we might glean a better understanding of just how prevalent psychopathy is in the beautiful game.