My very favourite movie just so happens to have a perfect encapsulation of the single victim mechanism, so I shall walk you through it as an exemplum.
This is Mr Hollom. He is an anomaly in being a 29-year old midshipman. Midshipmen are sort of apprentice officers; as you can see, his peers are all basically children.

He breaks a taboo by fraternizing with the crew – or trying to – when officers and crew are supposed to be strictly divided. Here he is trying to join in their jolly shanty sing-along.


A bit of backstory which is easier to describe than screencap: Also on this ship are two sailors, named Warley (the tall blond one in the above image) and Nagle (who you will meet soon). They are best buds! Always together. Then there is an almighty storm. Warley is up on the mizzenmast, trying to furl the sail, but from below they can tell the mast is straining and he ought to come down in case it breaks. Hollom is sent up to fetch Warley down, but before he can reach him, the mast does break and Warley goes with it into the churning sea. This broken mast, sail, and rigging start to pull the ship over, and they're in danger of capsizing, so Captain Aubry reluctantly orders the whole thing, Warley and all, to be cut lose and sacrificed to the waves. Who is at the stern to help do this but ... Nagle. It is all very heartbreaking, there are anguished looks, sad music, regret, etc. If you'd like to watch the scene, someone has very kindly put it on YouTube, though the quality is not great and you lose the full emotional effect in isolation:
There are always tensions when you stick a lot of people in a small wooden box in the middle of nowhere, but the crisis really hits when they are becalmed in the doldrums. Now they are bored, hot, frustrated, and thirsty, on top of being crowded and isolated.


It is natural for Nagle to take out his frustrations on Hollom, as he is bound up with Warley's death – an association which has turned into responsibility in Nagle's head. He starts the snowball rolling by listing all the charges against Hollom, encouraging the other sailors to imitate his animosity.

The director gently suggests to us what is happening here, in case we're missing it:

Nagle's animosity escalates from verbal violence to physical. Crew are supposed to salute officers but instead, when passing on the crowded deck, Nagle bumps Hollom roughly with his shoulder.

This bit of insubordination gets Nagle flogged, as Capt. Aubry tries to keep the lid on the mimetic crisis and forestall any ideas of mutiny.
It doesn't help. Nagle keeps a death glare locked on Hollom throughout, and as the crew's gaze shifts from the flogging to Hollom, we realise the contagion is spreading.



Soon the entire crew is against Hollom, which makes any passage through the ship an intimidating ordeal.

The contagion has even spread to his fellow midshipmen. When Blakeney tries to defend Hollom, Calamy tries to get him to switch sides, too.

The contagion's push to propagate itself reaches the very top.

The phenomenon of the 'Jonah' (which is a real thing, not invented for the movie) gets its name from the Bible story about a man who was sent by God to tell a great city to repent, but ran away to sea instead. The ship he was on was beset by a terrible storm and the sailors identified him as cursed, and threw him overboard. It's clearly a scapegoat story, and naming a social phenomenon after it clearly signifies an awareness of the unconscious pattern being rehearsed.
Once Hollom is designated the Jonah, he is ascribed supernatural responsibility for all the bad luck they have experienced. Fearmongering and tall tales intensify the animosity.
When Old Joe tells his audience that Hollom is summoning the enemy ship (which has become a supernatural 'phantom ship' itself) no one breaks ranks to say 'that's preposterous.' Their unity is more important. Hollom overhears this and appears equally convinced the ship will turn up the next time he's on watch, even though he knows he's not responsible. At any rate, he's justly terrified that the emotional violence of the crew will turn to physical violence, and he has nowhere to run.


The next time we see him, he is strangely peaceful. We will realise in a few minutes that this is because he has stopped fighting the majority and joined the consensus that he is, in fact, at fault for everything. The scapegoat is scapegoating himself.

BLAKENEY: Captain says we'll get our wind tomorrow.
HOLLOM: I'm sure of it.
He is imitating the community's desire to expel him – and he is uniquely situated to achieve that desire, with a little help from a cannonball.



The next morning, everyone is, obviously, feeling a bit guilty. But look how peaceful they are. Not a jot of mimetic crisis left.


AUBRY: If there are those among us who thought ill of Mr Hollom, spoke ill of him, or failed him in respect of fellowship, we ask your forgiveness, Lord, and we ask for his.
Dramatic pause.
And the wind returns.

And the rain returns.

And all is well again, thanks to the supernatural power of the scapegoat.
Chapter 21: The Founding Murder
This is Mr Hollom. He is an anomaly in being a 29-year old midshipman. Midshipmen are sort of apprentice officers; as you can see, his peers are all basically children.

He breaks a taboo by fraternizing with the crew – or trying to – when officers and crew are supposed to be strictly divided. Here he is trying to join in their jolly shanty sing-along.


A bit of backstory which is easier to describe than screencap: Also on this ship are two sailors, named Warley (the tall blond one in the above image) and Nagle (who you will meet soon). They are best buds! Always together. Then there is an almighty storm. Warley is up on the mizzenmast, trying to furl the sail, but from below they can tell the mast is straining and he ought to come down in case it breaks. Hollom is sent up to fetch Warley down, but before he can reach him, the mast does break and Warley goes with it into the churning sea. This broken mast, sail, and rigging start to pull the ship over, and they're in danger of capsizing, so Captain Aubry reluctantly orders the whole thing, Warley and all, to be cut lose and sacrificed to the waves. Who is at the stern to help do this but ... Nagle. It is all very heartbreaking, there are anguished looks, sad music, regret, etc. If you'd like to watch the scene, someone has very kindly put it on YouTube, though the quality is not great and you lose the full emotional effect in isolation:
There are always tensions when you stick a lot of people in a small wooden box in the middle of nowhere, but the crisis really hits when they are becalmed in the doldrums. Now they are bored, hot, frustrated, and thirsty, on top of being crowded and isolated.


It is natural for Nagle to take out his frustrations on Hollom, as he is bound up with Warley's death – an association which has turned into responsibility in Nagle's head. He starts the snowball rolling by listing all the charges against Hollom, encouraging the other sailors to imitate his animosity.

The director gently suggests to us what is happening here, in case we're missing it:

Nagle's animosity escalates from verbal violence to physical. Crew are supposed to salute officers but instead, when passing on the crowded deck, Nagle bumps Hollom roughly with his shoulder.

This bit of insubordination gets Nagle flogged, as Capt. Aubry tries to keep the lid on the mimetic crisis and forestall any ideas of mutiny.
It doesn't help. Nagle keeps a death glare locked on Hollom throughout, and as the crew's gaze shifts from the flogging to Hollom, we realise the contagion is spreading.



Soon the entire crew is against Hollom, which makes any passage through the ship an intimidating ordeal.

The contagion has even spread to his fellow midshipmen. When Blakeney tries to defend Hollom, Calamy tries to get him to switch sides, too.

The contagion's push to propagate itself reaches the very top.

The phenomenon of the 'Jonah' (which is a real thing, not invented for the movie) gets its name from the Bible story about a man who was sent by God to tell a great city to repent, but ran away to sea instead. The ship he was on was beset by a terrible storm and the sailors identified him as cursed, and threw him overboard. It's clearly a scapegoat story, and naming a social phenomenon after it clearly signifies an awareness of the unconscious pattern being rehearsed.
Once Hollom is designated the Jonah, he is ascribed supernatural responsibility for all the bad luck they have experienced. Fearmongering and tall tales intensify the animosity.
When Old Joe tells his audience that Hollom is summoning the enemy ship (which has become a supernatural 'phantom ship' itself) no one breaks ranks to say 'that's preposterous.' Their unity is more important. Hollom overhears this and appears equally convinced the ship will turn up the next time he's on watch, even though he knows he's not responsible. At any rate, he's justly terrified that the emotional violence of the crew will turn to physical violence, and he has nowhere to run.


The next time we see him, he is strangely peaceful. We will realise in a few minutes that this is because he has stopped fighting the majority and joined the consensus that he is, in fact, at fault for everything. The scapegoat is scapegoating himself.

BLAKENEY: Captain says we'll get our wind tomorrow.
HOLLOM: I'm sure of it.
He is imitating the community's desire to expel him – and he is uniquely situated to achieve that desire, with a little help from a cannonball.



The next morning, everyone is, obviously, feeling a bit guilty. But look how peaceful they are. Not a jot of mimetic crisis left.


AUBRY: If there are those among us who thought ill of Mr Hollom, spoke ill of him, or failed him in respect of fellowship, we ask your forgiveness, Lord, and we ask for his.
Dramatic pause.
And the wind returns.

And the rain returns.

And all is well again, thanks to the supernatural power of the scapegoat.
Chapter 21: The Founding Murder