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Everyone’s in shock and disbelief about this Loughner fitness issue. 

The Huffington Post has this Op piece from Rep. Slaughter.  She writes:  

“Yet, despite the belief that Mr. Loughner could be a danger to himself and others, our federal laws, and our mental health system, were unable to live up to the commonsense belief that those who are mentally ill should not be able to purchase and own a gun.”

This is the type of simplistic comment, used to spurn outrage for political support (her follow me on twitter link is practically the piece’s conclusion), that it irks the crap out of me. This issue puts the mental health practitioner at the intersection of constitutional law, violence prediction, patient privacy, and the dicey situation of defining “mental illness” altogether. It is also such a straw man: who exactly is the person that is pro-Loughner?

I’d offer a bet that few physicians decide to become a psychiatrist because they are looking to protect the public from mass murder, or because they are looking to restrict a person’s freedoms. The Secret Service or local police force is far more likely to see such candidates. We generally go into a mental health field to help people overcome mental illness.

The media loves to alternately portray mental health practitioners as oracles, able to pinpoint the future dangerous decades out, and lazy hippies (or overpaid charlatans or gun-right-protecting idiots), who would rather innocent victims continue to fall than do something.

My take is simply this:

We can not predict the distant future, and are often bad at predicting whether someone will enter into a dangerous state even within days to weeks.

When we can predict dangerousness, it’s because very dangerous people will continue to be very dangerous; never dangerous people are unlikely to become dangerous; and, while close monitoring and follow-up treatment is the best option for those in between, in a system of non-socialized healthcare, monitoring is not only voluntary but must be paid for by persons who lack insight into its necessity at best, or are paranoid of all others at worst. 

It also goes without saying that anyone interested in the safety of others would restrict access to all weapons (and all substances, including alcohol, which reduce inhibitory tone). That said, who’s got time to start showing up in court to discuss which who deserves to be able to shoot someone when scared and who doesn’t? I’d vote neither, except as psychiatrists, we also hate to see our patients stigmatized when it comes to rights (i.e., reproductive, voting, marriage, holding office, holding a job, etc.)

[On a side note, one in three substance abusers will be violent in the next year while of those with strict schizophrenia, it’s around one in six.  What if you look at substance abusing persons with schizophrenia?  Back to one in three.  To me, this means that alcohol and other substances pretty much level the playing field when it comes to mental illness-dangerousness discussions.  An alcohol-dangerousness discussion is far more important!]

However, to totally undo everything above, Paul Appelbaum once astutely observed that funding for mental health always gets a boost after a violent incident.  So, if this press coverage gets more attention to the needs of the chronically ill, and a few more people get helped, isn’t that a good thing?

Sort of?

Rep. Louise Slaughter: Unfit to Stand Trial, Yet Fit to Have a Gun

Quote

Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.

Don DeLillo

Pity the Villain

In a writing class, you’ll hear something like this: the villain is the hero of a different story.  The point being that no character thinks of himself as evil. 

As a psychiatrist, the clinical version of this is to realize that we each go through life doing the best we can while fighting a brain that won’t behave the way we wish it would, and an environment that rarely offers up what we want most.  Stuck in the middle, we all annoy our neighbors, ruin friendships, and make stupid decisions in love.  That is our fate.

Shows like CSI or L&O:SVU love to dramatize serial killers.  How do they create “believable” psychological constructs?  They take a genius, add in a twisted fetish and a well-earned grudge.  Voila!  A compelling serial killer is born.  Or so we’re told.

Mostly, these characters are just foxes to be hunted.  Occasionally, we come to empathize with them because they carry out an extreme morality that we secretly envy.  Hannibal Lecter hates rudeness. Jason hates sex-addled child minders.  Jigsaw pushes people to carpe diem, or something.

So then, what are these characters doing their best at that murder is the answer?  For that matter, what are extreme psychopaths trying their best to resolve, that murder (or rape or routine, cold-blooded harm) is the compromise?

I’ve had the opportunity to meet the real-life versions of these characters:  the sexual sadist, the serial killer, the psychotic murderer, and the garden-variety psychopath.  (Each had been caught and was being detained for their behavior, so I didn’t have to worry about safety or retribution. I’m no Clarice Starling knocking on doors.)  I evaluated them, and tried to characterize what made them so dangerous.

Here’s what I’ve found repeatedly:  they don’t get it. 

And here’s what else:  they never will.

Get what?  Humanity.  Connection.  Love.  Words that sound like a Hallmark card, until you find someone staring blankly at you.  Or giggling.  If they aren’t psychotic, then this is a chronic state of detachment honed over decades, with bases in genetics, delivery, childhood infection, development, trauma, and probably a dozen other areas we’ll discover in a few decades.

Shockingly, that’s where I have found pity. 

It’s not uncommon for someone after a hemispheric stroke to not recognize their body as theirs.  You hold up their hand and they say it belongs to someone else.  They’re so convinced that there is no explanation, no rationalization that will suffice.  When you’re in the presence of a severe psychopath my reaction (and please note, it’s mine, I’m not necessarily proud of it, just honest) is to feel deeply sad. Try as I might, I hold up their own humanity in front of them and they just keep batting it away as something extraneous.

But their behavior is so cruel.  They are so angry, so despicable, you might say.  Yes.  But if you’ve ever met someone living their life from outside human connection, it is a dark, dark place.  And there’s no escape.

It’s about standing outside on Christmas morning, peering in someone else’s window. It’s not just not having presents, it’s never being invited in. Ever.  Here there be rage.