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ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY |
Dr. Norko is Deputy Editor, Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law; Associate Clinical Professor of Psychiatry and Deputy Training Director, Forensic Residency, Yale University School of Medicine, New Haven, CT; and Chief of Forensic Services, Whiting Forensic Division of Connecticut Valley Hospital, Middletown, CT. Address correspondence to: Michael A. Norko, MD, CMHC, Law and Psychiatry Division, 34 Park Street, New Haven, CT 06519. E-mail: michael.norko{at}yale.edu
| Abstract |
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Dr. Paul Appelbaum used his presidential address to provide a theory of forensic ethics that would begin to set the foundation that Stone found lacking.4 Appelbaum distinguished the roles of clinical, research, and forensic practice and, for the latter, adopted a theory of ethics based on truth-telling (both objective and subjective) and respect for persons. The subjective element of truth-telling involved the forensic experts honesty; the objective element involved the experts delineation of the limits of knowledge (scientific and personal) and of testimony. Respect for persons required a careful explanation to evaluees of the experts role, to avoid the difficulties of double agency that Stone found so troubling and omnipresent.
In his own presidential address, Dr. Ezra Griffith analyzed Stones narratives of Dr. Leo and the black sergeant and explored what he saw as the flaw in Appelbaums response, given the sociopolitical realities of a justice system stacked against non-dominant groups.5 Griffith rejected the idea that the solution to Leos ethics dilemma (how to use his medical knowledge in testimony to help his fellow Jew deal with the injustice of an anti-Semitic London culture of 1801) was to stay out of the courtroom. He found no fault, per se, with Dr. Appelbaums theoretical framework, but contended that the theoretical framework assumes a level application of fairness in the workings of the justice system: an assumption clearly out of line with the "real reality" (Ref. 5, p 180) of our American cultural history.
Griffith saw his participation in the "political marketplace" (Ref. 5, p 181) of the courtroom as an obligation to his black brothers and sisters. How to do that work and fulfill the obligation without twisting justice, as the allegation is leveled at Dr. Leo in his efforts, isin my viewthe most important and precarious element of Griffiths argument. The approach he advocated in his response5 was for the evaluator to use a cultural formulation, a narrative that is at once most respectful of the subject as a person and that, by extension, seeks to convey a rich understanding of the subjects psychosocial environment. The central goal of that approach is what makes it so important. The strong gravitational pull toward providing exculpation/distortion while seeking to provide understanding is what makes it so precariouswith ethical success probably dependent on an extraordinary level of skill and self-examination.
Candilis and associates6 continued the consideration of narrative in attempting to reconcile Appelbaums theoretical approach with Griffiths approach to the reality of the trenches.6 They described narrative as an approach by which "medical knowledge is seen as storytelling knowledge" (Ref. 6, p 171). They argued that this reconceptualization of the experts task allows for an integration of personal morality and professional identity and integrity and is better suited to the varied and complex realities surrounding the individuals who are the focus of actual forensic evaluations. I will return to this work later for a critical element that has not been adequately noticed.
| Ezra Griffiths Personal Narrative |
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Griffith pursues the evaluators struggles with personal authenticity and representation as he further explores the nagging problem of serving justice while serving those treated unjustly, yet avoiding the pull to twist justice in the process. He acknowledges the contours of this pursuit in describing the contrasting views of two religious colleagues. One black pastor shared his view that Dr. Leo should not breach the rules of court. Non-dominant professionals should seek equity and fairness outside the courtroom through their other efforts, but they should not distort testimony. The other religious colleague commended Dr. Leo for his interest in his fellow man, recognizing in Leos actions the Christian injunction to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and imprisoned.
From such a religious perspective, Dr. Leo is a sympathetic and defendable figure, but it is not in Christianizing this Jewish parable that Griffith has achieved an advance in the discourse of Dr. Leos central dilemma. This is not the essence of the "transformative stance" (Ref. 7, p 380) he wants to take. Yet, in being authentic and representative of his reference group, Griffith must acknowledge the valence of such Christian ideology in his thinking.
So what is the essence of the transformative stance to this central challenge in ethics? For me, it is the call to "recognize the pain and suffering" of those we evaluate and to "connect to them empathically" (Ref. 7, p 380). This is where I find the most captivating and stimulating element in Griffiths construction of a "moral foundation" (Ref. 7, p 377) for our work. It can be summarized in a word that he used (explicitly) only once: compassion. It is the notion of compassion that expands the context of our work, unites it to the work of our fellow beings in society, and provides a visceral notion of how narrative might serve the disadvantaged without distortions.
| The Transforming Nature of Compassion |
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In the example of Ms. George described by Candilis and colleagues,6 the authors also acknowledge the construct of compassion. In an important element that deserves fuller notice, they argue that the "compassionate professional" (Ref. 6, p 169) is drawn into multiple aspects of the subjects suffering. The power of the narrative is precisely in allowing the flexibility for the professional to be compassionate toward the subject in fulfilling the demands of the evaluative task for the court.
Griffith uses the admonition of the Christian Bible to describe the compassionate approach to a defendant who is among "the least of these my brethren" (Ref. 7, p 379). While this connection might make sense to other Christian thinkers, it makes no less sense to followers of any of the worlds other religious traditions or to secular humanists. Statements of the Golden Rule can be found in the sacred texts of all major world religions and in most systems of ethics and philosophies.9 One example from the Bahai faith is sufficient to make the point: "And if thine eyes be turned toward justice, choose thou for thy neighbor that which thou choosest for thyself."9
A moral foundation for forensic work that is based on compassion is thus not an argument that can be easily dismissed as a parochial construct. In fact, employing this construct places our work in a larger context of human endeavor and struggle. And where else should we look to find adequate cultural justification for our involvement in the struggles of the courtroom?
Compassion already forms essential elements of the deep foundations of major faith traditions, including Chinese traditions, Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, and Christianity.10 What intrigues me about Griffiths present work is that he has cited compassion as a major foundation of authentic forensic work. This is something decidedly more than storytelling or truth-telling or even respect for persons (as it has thus far been discussed in our literature). Surely, it invokes all these elements, but it expands the envelope of our professional obligations and opportunities. The obligations are clear. The opportunities lie in moving us off a precarious perch from which we might be tempted to blur our boundaries in attempting to right injustices.
The notion of engaging compassion toward all evaluees brings us to firmer footing, while still addressing the problems of injustice. No special attention need be paid to those most disadvantaged by the criminal justice system. It is not a twisting of justice that is needed to serve our neighbors fully and faithfully. What is needed is an approach to justice that allows us to attend to and engage the humanity of all the subjects of our evaluations.
Having been so intrigued by this construct, I have begun to explore a rather rich interdisciplinary body of literature on the subject of compassion, drawing primarily on religious/theological, philosophical, and psychological studies. Among those capturing my interest is Simone Weil, the French philosopher, activist, and mystic of the first half of the 20th century. Among her rather scattered essays are several reflections on justice and compassion that are highly relevant to the present subject. In an essay on our struggle for justice, Weil begins by quoting the ancient Greek, Thucydides:
The examination of what is just is carried out only when there is equal necessity on each side. Where there is one who is strong and one who is weak, the possible is done by the first and accepted by the second [Ref. 11, p 120].
Weils solution to the need to deal justly with people in situations of inequality is to find compassion for all people, based on finding a commonality among all people. In her essay, "Draft for a Statement of Human Obligations" (Ref. 11, pp 13141) she describes the inescapable inequalities of human life toward which such compassion would be directed.
The reality of the world we live in is composed of variety. Unequal objects unequally solicit our attention. Certain people personally attract our attention, either through the hazard of circumstances or some chance affinity... .If our attention is entirely confined to this world it is entirely subject to the effect of these inequalities, which it is all the less able to resist because it is unaware of it.
It is impossible to feel equal respect for things that are in fact unequal unless the respect is given to something that is identical in all of them. Men are unequal in all their relations with the things of this world, without exception. The only thing that is identical in all men is the presence of a link with the reality outside the world [Ref. 11, p 134].
For Weil, the necessary, and the only satisfactory, condition for achieving true respect for persons is a metaphysical one. She does not, however, confine this requirement to the realm of religion or spirituality. For her, this is an irreducible essence of the cloak of societal obligation laid on all of us, but especially those of influence and power in society. Individuals vary in the proportion of their acceptance and refusal of this obligation, and by such distinctions merit or fail to merit roles of authority:
If any power of any kind is in the hands of a man who has not given total, sincere, and enlightened consent to this obligation such power is misplaced.If a man has willfully refused to consent, then it is in itself a criminal activity for him to exercise any function, major or minor, public or private, which gives him control of peoples lives... .
It is the aim of public life to arrange that all forms of power are entrusted, so far as possible, to men who effectively consent to be bound by the obligation toward all human beings which lies upon everyone, and who understand the obligation.
Law is the totality of the permanent provisions for making this aim effective [Ref. 11, pp 1378].
| Conclusions |
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The theoretical framework offered by Appelbaum4 has become a mainstay of our understanding of forensic ethics. The notion of respect for persons was first couched in the duty to clarify the forensic evaluators role for the evaluee, but it is a concept that has natural extensions to the discussions of compassion found in Griffith7 and Weil.11 Griffiths concern for the professionals authenticity and representativeness is a legitimate extension of respect for persons, as is truth-telling.
Griffiths refusal to leave the courtroom and the reality of its injustices prompts the need for a theory of applied narrative that avoids Stones concern for twisting justice and prostituting our profession. I have argued that Griffiths call to compassion for the least of our brethren is a captivating and successful solution to the dilemma in ethics of Dr. Leo. A rich literature on compassion beckons our attention and awaits further interdisciplinary insights. I am already persuaded, however, that compassion resides at the core of any valuable ethical construct for forensic psychiatry.
I close with thoughts from Weils Epilogue, encouraging us to find their further application in our work:
Every created thing is an object for compassion because it is ephemeral.Every created thing is an object for compassion because it is limited.
Compassion directed toward oneself is humility...
Without humility, all the virtues are finite. Only humility makes them infinite [Ref. 11, p 143].
| References |
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This article has been cited by other articles:
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D. M. Gellerman [In Process Citation] J Am Acad Psychiatry Law, January 1, 2006; 34(1): 129 - 129. [Full Text] [PDF] |
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