06 November 2009

Hyde and Squeak

Amid last-minute buffing of a paper on Dracula & the Law for next month's Translegality conference in Brisbane I was pleased to encounter Nicola Lacey's new paper 'Psychologising Jekyll, Demonising Hyde: The Strange Case of Criminal Responsibility'.

Lacey's probably best known as a biographer of HLA Hart - the legal theorist who wrote, and in the last years of his life looked, as if he was one of the undead creatures of the night. Her A Life of HLA Hart: The Nightmare and the Noble Dream (Oxford: Oxford Uni Press 2004) is reviewed in the HLR here.

Her paper
puts the famous story of Jekyll and Hyde to work for a specific analytic purpose. The question of responsibility for crime, complicated by the divided subjectivity implicit in Mr. Hyde's appearance, and illuminated by Robert Louis Stevenson’s grasp of contemporary psychiatric, evolutionary, and medical thought as promising new technologies for effecting a distinction between criminality and innocence, is key to the interest of the story. I argue that Jekyll and Hyde serves as a powerful metaphor both for specifically late Victorian perplexities about criminality and criminal responsibility, and for more persistently troubling questions about the legitimacy of and practical basis for criminalisation. A close reading of the story illustrates the complex mix of elements bearing on criminal responsibility-attribution and – incidentally – helps to explain what is wrong with the influential argument that, by the end of the 19th Century, attributions of responsibility in English criminal law already rested primarily and unambiguously on factual findings about the defendant's state of mind.
She comments that
Far from representing the triumph of a practice of responsibility attribution grounded in the assessment of whether the defendant's capacities were fully engaged, I argue that the terrain of mental derangement defences in late 19th Century England helps us to understand that longer-standing patterns of moral evaluation of character remained central to the criminal process even - or perhaps especially - in cases dealing with defects of consciousness. And precisely because 'character' remained key to the institutional effort to distinguish criminality and innocence, the 'terror' of Stevenson’s story resides in its questioning of whether either scientific knowledge or moral evaluation of character can provide a stable basis for attributions of responsibility. In conclusion, I will also suggest that Stevenson’s tale can help us to make sense of the resurgence of overtly 'character-based' practices of responsibility attribution in contemporary Britain and the United States, which themselves reflect a renewed crisis of confidence in our ability to effect a ‘dissociation’ between criminality and innocence.