Introduction
A national review of competency to stand trial (CST) proceedings reveals that criminal court actors persistently exclude one category of psychiatric conditions, namely personality disorders (PDs), from consideration. Their repeated exclusion betrays a central tension criminal court actors face between recognizing the reality of neurodiversity
and pursuing criminalization.
Any person facing criminal charges can assert that they are unfit to stand trial due to their mental or intellectual disability.
In Dusky v. United States, the Supreme Court enunciated the minimum capacities a person accused of a crime must possess before they can be prosecuted.
The Court fashioned this procedural protection to enforce a basic intuition: As a matter of due process, a defendant must be able to participate in their own defense.
The Dusky test asks courts to determine whether the accused has “sufficient present ability to consult with [their] lawyer with a reasonable degree of rational understanding” and whether they have “a rational as well as factual understanding of the proceedings.”
Usually, competency assessments rely on mental health experts, like psychologists and psychiatrists, to produce knowledge about the defendant and their neurodivergence.
If a court finds the defendant unfit, it can institutionalize them until it finds that they have been restored to legal capacity.
The CST framework following Dusky and Drope v. Missouri, which modified Dusky, posits that legal equality can be achieved for individuals with disabilities through short-term treatment in carceral settings.
Broadly defined, disability is a “chronic impairment that significantly impacts the daily life of a given individual.”
It is a fluid and complex category.
Its recognition in different domains has always depended on ascribed institutional, cultural, social, and political meanings, and its impact has varied with context.
In CST proceedings, examiners parse through defendants’ neurodivergence, which may include psychiatric conditions. The experts determine whether the defendants have demonstrated impairments that merit recognition as disabilities under the Dusky–Drope standard.
This Essay reveals a hierarchy of psychiatric disabilities embedded in the competency standard.
State and federal courts frequently recognize psychotic disorders (such as schizophrenia) and the cognitive impairments they produce (like hallucinations and disorganized thoughts) as grounds for incompetency.
Meanwhile, judges and forensic examiners have tended to discount PDs, a group of disabilities that manifest as personality traits that frustrate interpersonal relations and court administration.
PDs are characterized as enduring patterns of inner experience and behavior that deviate from cultural expectations.
One cluster of PDs discussed at length in this Essay includes antisocial, borderline, histrionic, and narcissistic personality disorders.
Clinical literature describes that people with these disorders may appear dramatic, emotional, or erratic.
Even in the face of evidence that an accused struggles to collaborate with their attorney because of a diagnosed PD, courts have been reluctant to recognize such claims of disability as triggering incompetency protections.
They have asserted that these conditions are different from psychotic disorders because defendants retain control over their behavior.
They characterize these defendants as intentionally uncooperative, ascribing the challenges they face with their attorneys as instances of misconduct, not the product of disability.
Examiners have explained and courts have declared that defendants with PDs are more likely to manipulate proceedings to their advantage and feign disability.
In turn, courts have gone as far as to categorically reject PDs as a basis for incompetency claims.
But clinical research does not support the neat conclusion that PDs are categorically distinct from psychotic disorders, and there is no evidence to establish that the symptoms of PDs are simply the product of bad choices.
Clinicians and bioethicists note PDs’ ambiguous status in psychiatry
: They pose a genuine moral and scientific dilemma.
Neither psychologic nor psychiatric expertise can authoritatively answer whether someone with a PD can exercise control over their behavior. Where to draw the line between the person and the disorder, between deviance and ability, is a normative—rather than strictly descriptive—question.
When a criminal defendant refuses to speak to their lawyer, and the defense alleges that this refusal is consistent with their chronic incapacity to trust others, to conclude that the accused chose not to control their symptoms is a moral judgment.
While expert forensic examiners do not explicitly confront this vexed issue of responsibility, they do so implicitly when they pronounce such defendants competent.
When experts opine on the accused person’s competency, their testimony effectively stretches clinical expertise and the rules of evidence.
Their approach in these moments is empirically suspect, subjective, and confused.
Expert conclusions elicited in CST proceedings launder weighty deontological and substantive considerations about moral responsibility.
At their most extreme, examiners’ opinions trigger miniature trials about the accused person’s character.
In CST proceedings, experts opine not simply about whether the accused is incompetent but about whether they deserve to be held incompetent.
In so doing, their interventions transform a modest procedural protection into a substantive decision point.
That is, examiners focus more on defendants’ moral responsibility, a core concern in substantive criminal law, than on defendants’ ability to fairly contribute to their defense, the procedural concern ostensibly underlying the Dusky–Drope standard. Experts enjoy this wide latitude in CST proceedings because courts have abdicated their adjudicative function.
The problem is systemic rather than individual.
Understanding examiners’ motivations is beyond the scope of this Essay. Rather, this Essay expounds on the function that examiners’ opinions and courts’ rulings play in the wider system of criminal court.
Specifically, it looks at how the knowledge examiners produce facilitates criminalization
and contributes to an epistemology of criminalization.
More precisely, when examiners conclude that defendants with PDs are engaged in procedural misconduct, and hence are competent to stand trial, their decisions mimic outcomes in insanity litigation.
Courts and legislatures have typically denied both incompetency claims and insanity defenses to defendants diagnosed with PDs because their symptoms too closely resemble traits of criminality, like lack of empathy,
manipulation, and deceit.
Across both insanity and competency law, courts and examiners interpret misconduct as prima facie proof of capacity, not disability.
The apparent consistency in experts’ findings across these two distinct areas of law is remarkable because each serves a very different purpose. This consistency reveals the insertion of substantive concerns into procedural law. Criminality acts as a foil for disability when examiners and courts undertake competency decisions. They frame disability as a limited deviation from the normative figure of the able-bodied, free-willed perpetrator.
The story here is not about a clash between law and psychiatry, commonly treated in the literature as two incommensurable forms of knowledge.
Nor does this Essay seek to expose forensic psychiatry as a junk science; rather, it illuminates the unavoidable moral dimensions of the practice of forensic psychology as it animates legal doctrine.
It concludes that the ultimate task of distinguishing between those disabilities that deserve recognition and those that do not is best reserved for legal actors rather than forensic experts.
These observations suggest the CST framework fails on its own terms: Even the fiction of formal legal equality for neurodivergent defendants is out of reach for those diagnosed with a PD. There are groups of people who claim disability but are excluded.
Recognition is the minimum in any effort to combat the marginalization of those who are differently abled. But if the problems this Essay exposes are excluded defendants, unprincipled analyses, and usurped roles, the solution is more difficult than the diagnosis. It is both undesirable and untenable to demand that all neurodivergent defendants, including those who are diagnosed with PDs, be recognized in CST proceedings.
It is undesirable because asking examiners and courts to recognize a greater diversity of mental disabilities in CST proceedings would lead to more people being forcibly committed to underfunded state hospitals. Scholars and advocates have noted the harsh conditions of those settings.
Nonetheless, by outlining arguments for incompetency, this Essay intends to support a harm-reduction strategy in instances when a defense attorney can clearly discern a net benefit to their client being found incompetent. In many cases, however, there are no good choices for defendants with psychiatric disabilities in criminal court. Although both the disability justice and disability rights movements advocate for greater inclusion in public life,
that demand seems misguided here. Inclusion is a paradox in the carceral state.
It may also be untenable to expect more expansive accommodations because criminal courts may not be able to recognize all psychiatric disabilities. Even if a person’s disability shapes their chances in court, recognizing the manifestations of some disabilities could undermine criminal law’s core commitments to assigning blame and responsibility. Furthermore, courts may be drawing lines to produce a narrow exception out of “a fear of too much justice.”
That is, courts may be drawing a firm rule to prevent a proliferation of incompetency claims.
Among people in state and federal prisons in 2016, an estimated 40.4% reported having a psychiatric disability.
Of those diagnoses, PDs are among the most overrepresented in carceral settings.
Examiners’ exclusion of PDs in CST proceedings preserves the rapacious administration of criminal law.
There are strong institutional incentives to define disability narrowly.
CST proceedings should also serve as a cautionary tale for ongoing efforts to address neurodivergence in criminal court, particularly those that propose mental health expertise as a key ingredient for decarceration. Across jurisdictions, criminal court actors have embraced alternatives to incarceration, particularly for those with psychiatric needs.
In such cases, a person can accept a plea to a criminal charge and can undergo treatment, broadly defined, as their sentence.
To implement these alternatives, courts have assembled teams of interdisciplinary experts to identify those who stand to benefit from softer penal interventions. Mental health specialists play a critical role in these efforts, drawing on their diagnostic expertise to educate judges, prosecutors, and defense attorneys about neurodivergence and appropriate interventions.
Many progressive reforms treat mental health expertise as a humanizing antidote to criminalization.
But CST proceedings suggest that the diagnostic framework mental health experts deploy is not necessarily distinct from criminal law’s deontological framework.
This Essay engages with four intellectual currents. First, legal scholars have recently illuminated the central but underappreciated role of disability in jurisprudence governing search and seizure,
state–federal relations,
and family law.
Second, law-and-social-movement scholars have expanded scholarly horizons by applying the insights of prison abolition to legal doctrine and reform.
This body of work shakes foundational myths about criminal legal institutions and conventional modes of reform.
If criminal legal institutions operate as tools of social control instead of providing safety, and if procedural safeguards actually entrench state violence,
then legal scholars may need to rethink their favored solutions and consider shrinking rather than fixing criminal law and its institutions.
By engaging with this literature, this Essay hopes to challenge legalist modes of reform, like the CST framework.
Third, this account also draws on the insights of an older intellectual tradition, the antipsychiatry movement, which emerged in the 1960s.
Spurred by the neglect, cruel experimentation, and abuse in state mental hospitals, scholars and organizers in this tradition argued that these institutional excesses were features of a system of knowledge that constructed and enforced psychological normality and enabled deprivations of liberty.
Theorist Michel Foucault drew and expanded on these insights in his meticulous study of forensic psychiatry.
Psychology and abnormal psychology were not neutral disciplines that illuminated the truth of the human mind but rather techniques of governance.
The antipsychiatry movement in turn sought to denaturalize the study of the brain and of human behavior.
This Essay takes inspiration from this line of critique, uncovering the political, moral, and normative dimensions to the practice of psychiatry and psychology.
But it does not fully embrace antipsychiatry in that it does not suggest that psychiatry ought to be abolished, nor does it contend that the brain, human behavior, and psychopathology cannot be meaningfully examined. This Essay does, however, embrace anti-psychiatry’s invitation to critically scrutinize the discipline and profits from the hermeneutical space that the antipsychiatry movement created. Indeed, the “Mad Pride” and “Crip” movements, antipsychiatry’s intellectual descendants, have illuminated the recalcitrant ableism that permeates law and medicine.
The fourth area of new scholarship that this Essay draws on comes from social science scholars examining the underappreciated connections between carceral expansion and other areas of law and policy, such as municipal finance, taxation, land use, and community economic development.
Professor Liat Ben-Moshe has persuasively exposed the logic of incarceration as it permeates the treatment of individuals with disability.
This Essay brings these scholarly threads together, attending to the logic of criminalization as it trespasses into other areas of public policy and fields of inquiry.
This Essay also addresses the relative dearth of scholarly writing about disability and criminal procedure.
The insanity doctrine has captivated generations of academics,
but it is a substantive rule that excuses defendants from criminal liability. Despite the popular fascination with the insanity defense, it is invoked far less often than one might expect, in fewer than 1% of cases.
By contrast, public defenders express concerns about clients’ competency in 10% to 15% of cases.
Competency assessments are a central feature of criminal litigation in a way that insanity is not. With a few notable exceptions, existing legal scholarship has not engaged in a granular critique of CST proceedings.
This Essay aims to do just that, while offering constructive guidelines for reform.
To make its critique, this Essay dives into the disciplines of psychology and psychiatry—and their constructions of disease and ability—to assess forensic practices on their own terms. Psychology and psychiatry are fields of knowledge oriented toward understanding and treating what they discern to be mental diseases.
But the term “disease” is an awkward fit for neurodivergence. As a general matter, when a branch of medicine labels something an “illness” or “disease,” this involves identifying an undesirable “cluster of characteristics” that has a rational explanation and an expected course.
Furthermore, to label something an illness is to root the problem in the individual’s biology rather than powerful social forces that often determine health. Psychiatric diagnoses trouble these biomedical definitions of disease—none more so than PDs, in part because their biological origins are uncertain.
These disciplinary uncertainties seep into CST determinations too.
One problem with embracing psychology and psychiatry’s framework is that these fields of knowledge describe certain differences as abnormal, disordered, and ill, whereas the disability justice movement rejects such discourse as ableist and dehumanizing.
This Essay will use the terms “disorder,” “illness,” “disease,” “symptom,” and “impairment,” not because these are correct ways to frame neurocognitive difference, but because these are the terms that actors in CST proceedings use.
Critically, while experts in psychology and psychiatry approach their epistemic practices as scientific, this Essay underscores the underappreciated moral dimension of the knowledge they produce. Assembling a diagnostic typology, or nosology, involves discerning undesirable traits and abnormal conditions and identifying who deserves compassion and accommodation.
These normative endeavors require more than merely identifying statistical deviations in human experience.
Not all psychological differences establish a psychiatric diagnosis. Those cognizable psychiatric conditions are enshrined in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM)—the most recent edition of which is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders: Fifth Edition, Text Revision (DSM-5-TR)—which serves as these disciplines’ authoritative catalog.
This Essay relies on the DSM-5-TR’s categories of disorders, but it does not assume that these accurately capture a stable constellation of behaviors and experiences.
This Essay proceeds as follows. Part I traces the origins of the competency process, describes how it typically unfolds, and surveys the pertinent critiques of competency assessments. Part II examines the controversial status of PDs in psychology and psychiatry, as well as in public life. Part III presents the results of a national survey of CST proceedings, which reveal that examiners abide by a hierarchical scheme of diagnoses. Case law and examiners’ testimony establish disability as something that is externally verifiable and primarily acts on a person’s perception of reality. Part IV probes examiners’ conclusions to expose the buried moral dimensions of their epistemic practices. It draws on moral philosophy to expose the parallels between examiners’ reasoning in insanity and CST proceedings and, after enumerating the distinct concerns animating these different areas of law, it asserts that such consistency is undesirable. Part V teases out the implications for reform, in and outside of court. This Essay concludes by suggesting that the study of CST proceedings should serve as a cautionary tale for ongoing efforts to address neurodivergence in criminal court.