I’m bumping this old post that was focused on the Andrea Yates case because it sheds some light on the legal (as opposed to the cultural) definition of insanity. As you probably heard, the Colorado shooter wants to plead not guilty by reason of insanity. So what does insanity mean in a court of law?
A Post by Maynard, as directed by the voices in his head
I’ll not dwell on the specifics of the Andrea Yates case, but I want to quickly discuss the logic behind the insanity defense, using Yates as an example.
Take a moment to consider what insanity means to you. You’ve probably got a vague notion that a crazy person isn’t responsible for his actions. But exactly how does this translate into a reasonable court decision? I mean, we’re all crazy at some level, aren’t we? I certainly am. And since you’re reading my words, you are too. But how exactly can we leverage our personal stress and neuroses into legal justification for a killing spree?
The key to keep in mind is, if there’s a test to determine whether we are to be held legally liable for our actions, it needs to be an objective test; a mechanical test. But how can this be? We’re trying to measure some obscure equations that are buried deep inside our heads. Sanity cannot be objectively determined, can it?
Yes, for our purposes, it can. Here’s how:
The traditional test with respect to legal culpability was called the “M’Naughten Test“. It was named after a nutjob who killed a secretary to the British Prime Minister in 1843. M’Naughten apparently had a paranoid fantasy in which the PM was running a personal vendetta against him, much like Democrats have with respect to Bush. So, like the Democrats, M’Naughten felt justified in his lunatic response. Anyway, the Brits wrestled with this question a good deal, and came up with the following criterion: A person is legally culpable for his actions if he understood, at the time he acted, that what he was doing was considered wrong by the society at large.
The key point here, and this won’t be immediately obvious to you so stop and think about it for a moment, is that the M’Naughten Test was truly objective. We can never know what goes on in your head, but we can certainly know what you did. (Forgive me for using “you” as an example.) And the way you conducted yourself will clearly signal whether you understood that your action was wrongful. For example, let’s say you shot someone. If you were insane as defined by M’Naughten, then you would have been unaware that society considered it wrong to kill. Therefore, you would have made no attempt to conceal what you intended to do. You would have attended to your task with your weapon clearly visible. If, on the other hand, you had concealed the weapon and/or evaded security measures, you would have demonstrated an intellectual appreciation of the wrongfulness of your undertaking. Therefore, however troubled you may have been, you may be held legally liable.
You can understand how some might regret that the M’Naughten Test does not take into consideration mitigating circumstances. It’s tempting to try to understand why people do what they do, isn’t it? But once you start down that path, you’re playing God, and doing a lousy job of it. As the twentieth century progressed, we invented new touchy-feely degrees of partial culpability. Does anybody remember the infamous Twinkie defense, in which the cold-blooded murderer of San Francisco Mayor George Moscone (who was clearly culpable under M’Naughten) served a mere five years. As part of California subsequent Victim’s Bill of Rights (a ballot initiative), we eventually abolished the “diminished capacity” defense.
Anyway, across the United States, you’ll find some states where M’Naughten prevails and some states where touchy-feely make-it-up-as-you-go-along ideology prevails. Texas is a M’Naughten state, at least in theory. But this is a touch-feely era, so you never know what a jury is going to do.
With respect to Andrea Yates: After killing her children, she called her husband and also 911. She said she was an evil, bad mother, and she had to be punished. Clearly she understood that her actions were wrong. Lord knows, the lady has a screw loose. Her crime was so hideous and so senseless that I’ve got to feel sorry for her. But she knew she was doing evil. She is, under the objective test, responsible for her actions. She’s guilty and accountable, and we’ve got to treat her accordingly.
Very interesting there Maynard. But I can’t go along with any test, objective or otherwise. To me it’s irrelevant. No matter what a person’s mental state may be, they have made a series of decisions that get them to the moment of the evil deed. And then even at the last moment they can still say no. No matter how “crazy” a person may be, they still have human volition. The only issue for me is, did they commit the act or not.
We’re all held liable for our actions in all realms of life, so a person that commits a crime like murder, rape, etc should not all of a sudden be given special consideration because we want to analyze them… now that’s crazy!
Here’s my problem with the insanity defense. If someone is found insane, doesn’t that mean that there is no chance whatsoever for them to be rehabilitated? Doesn’t that mean they are forever a menace to society? I don’t normally favor the death penalty, but in the case of insanity, it would seem to be the only possible solution for such a person. As long as they are alive, there is a chance that they will either escape or be released for political reasons, and then they are a menace to society. When someone is proven to have lost the ability to reason, I say put them down, for everyone’s benefit, including theirs.
“The only issue for me is, did they commit the act or not.”
But mental state is also what distinguishes differing degrees of homicide, so by this logic, would you eliminate any distinction between murder and manslaughter? INTENT is a state of mind: criminal law is ALWAYS about a state of mind, together with one or more acts.
If I commit an act that results in someone’s death, does that automatically make me a murderer? The common law said no, and every criminal code in the US says no. People die as consequences of human action every day, but most of those deaths, while tragic, are not even the results of crimes, but of accidents that, at the absolute most, rise only to the level of the civil tort of negligent wrongful death. Yes, but for the act, the victim would have lived, but that does not make the act criminal by itself.
DaveJ: She killed them purposely. She acted in such a way as to cause them to die, by direct action. Nothing remotely accidental was involved. Her state of mind was irrelevant. She murdered them in cold blood. They weren’t threatening her, and it wasn’t any sort of collateral damage from an ordinarily harmless act. State of mind only comes into play in order to excuse a criminal act.
When I took my law classes (many, many years ago), the professor stressed there are two parts of this test. Both must be present for a Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity (NGRI) defense:
1) “if he understood”
and
2) “considered wrong”
Thus, someone who knows it is wrong to do a particular crime, but does not comprehend that what they are doing is that particular crime, cannot use an NGRI defense.
Similarly, someone who does not comprehend that society considers a particular action to be a crime, but comprehends that they are doing the action, cannot use an NGRI defense.
Andrea Yates knew what she was doing was wrong, but feld compelled to do it anyway. Therefore, no NGRI for her!
Additionally, the professor stated that the percentage of successful NGRI defenses was miniscule. Basically, “We know he’s nuts, but he is sane enough to punish.”
And, that most successful NGRI defendants spend more time in an insane asylum than they would have spent in prison.
Robert108, I’m not arguing about Andrea Yates specifically: I agree she deserves to fry. I’m arguing about the broader logical consequences of Tink’s statement that an act is all that matters to constitute a crime.
“Her state of mind was irrelevant. She murdered them in cold blood.”
Uh, those two sentences contradict eachother. Murder is–to generalize state laws that differ as to detail by resorting to the old common-law definition–unlawful malicious killing. “Malice” in that context IS a state of mind, namely the set of states of mind that encompass both intent and “depraved indifference.” Modern state laws tend to distinguish between those states of mind to a degree as well: specific intent to kill may be first-degree murder (among other reasons to qualify the crime as such), while both general intent and “depraved indifference” would be second-degree murder.
Depraved indifference is the state of mind of not specifically intending harm but knowing that harm, including death, is highly likely and foreseeable consequence. It is more than recklessness: recklessness gets you manslaughter, not murder.
“State of mind only comes into play in order to excuse a criminal act.”
Robert, no offense, but I’m a prosecutor and that’s simply incorrect. Every crime is about an act or acts (actus reus) and about a mind (). As a hypothetical example, if I go into court and have a witness testify that someone bumped into her against her will, have I just successfully proven a battery took place? No, because there’s no evidence with respect to an element of the crime: I’ve shown that there was a touching or striking, I’ve shown it was against her will, but I’ve put on nothing to show it was intentional on the part of the defendant, and any judge would properly grant a defense motion for a directed verdict, meaning it would never reach the jury.
State of mind is ALWAYS a question with respect to any crime, not just when someone is trying to assert an insanity defense, even if that question is answered by the absence of a mental state requirement in the statute defining the crime as essentially “no particular state of mind,” i.e., a strict-liability crime. An example of a strict liability crime would be speeding: prove the defendant was behind the wheel at the time, prove the car was going above the speed limit, done. No need to prove a mental state. But you want to prove the more serious charge of reckless driving, you WILL have to prove a mental state, namely willful and wanton disregard for public safety. And while that state of mind can be inferred from actions, it IS a mental state element to the crime, which the state will have to prove.
Quoting Maynard: “I mean, we’re all crazy at some level, aren’t we? I certainly am. And since you’re reading my words, you are too.” Quoting RuBegonia: “WooFaw” [canine guffaw]