The trouble with the Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity defense is its vulnerability to partiality and yes, I’m talking about the Lindsay Clancy case. The idea of a mother strangling her kids to death is so awful, so against nature the only explanation is insanity. She must be nuts, temporarily perhaps and hormone and/or drug related (or the lack of the right ones), but no one wants to think it’s something within her. When it’s the father, though, it’s a different story. There’s a name for it, Family Annihilator, and it often involves a custody dispute. A couple divorces, they are sharing custody, then the woman remarries and it triggers a murderous rage because the ex-husband would rather have his kids dead than suffer the thought of another man calling them Dad. It’s male territorialism run amok. Don’t get me wrong, male territorialism is not bad per se; if it weren’t for Allied male territorialism during World War WII, we’d all be speaking German. The point is, no one’s gonna buy his insanity defense. He’s not crazy, he’s just a bad man.

My take on the Clancy trial is there was just as much room for reasonable doubt of her story as there was for reasonable doubt of her guilt.

There was no such questioning among the pink-clad supporters demonstrating daily outside the courtroom in Plymouth, Massachusetts—indeed there was only one side to their drama, and apparently a cast of one. The murdered children, Cora, 5, Dawson, 3, and Callan, 8 months, were uncredited extras, their seeming role being, in Catch 22 fashion, to arouse sympathy for the woman as she lamented the loss of her children. And, last but not least, it had a plot twist misdirect.

The possibility of medical malpractice/over-prescribed drugs and the importance of raising awareness about postpartum health replaced the murders as the central theme. These are very important issues, and addressing them is crucial if future female familicides (due to postpartum health as opposed to just being a sociopath) are to be averted. But the demeanor of the protesters seemed to be a fist in the air “we’re not gonna take it anymore” type of battle cry except . . . more genteel. It is New England after all. So instead, they raised their hands above their heads and formed hearts with their fingers. Their point of solidarity, in the words of one protester: “Women are being dismissed, neglected and ignored when we speak up. We’re scared because nobody takes us seriously.”

(They’re scared? I’d hate to be a little kid these days).

Tensions grew outside the courthouse when another woman showed up with a different point of view, and a different T-tshirt. It is America after all. According to CBS Boston: “A woman wearing black was separated by a Massachusetts State Police trooper from a group of pink-wearing women who have been at the trial most days. ‘Don’t call us out just because we’re wearing pink. You’re wearing black. Does that have a meaning?’ one woman said. ‘Yes, it does,’ the woman wearing black said. ‘This is a funeral we’re attending. Three babies’ lives were lost.’” Why can’t both T-shirts be abided? Is it a clash of core issues, or a clash of identity?

***

I have some personal experience with New England women and their sociopolitical infused etiquette. A few years ago, I was in Massachusetts attending the wake of my aunt. A woman took the folding chair next to mine and introduced herself and her rather meek gal-pal sidekick. Apparently, she was a local friend of the family. She asked me about myself, where I lived, what I did. It had the aura of an interview, albeit polite. I shared my connection to the deceased, that I lived in NYC and was a writer, and told her of the various gigs I’ve had while living the life of an artist. All was well until I got to the present, which is writing for this pro-life publication. She suddenly stiffened from her shoulders to her knees, glared at me, said: “I see,” summoned her entourage of one and took her leave with barely concealed contempt, all with my aunt’s coffin but twenty feet away. So very prim and proper, yet totally lacking in sensitivity. It was a weird cross between Emily Post and Stalin. But enough of that.

Postpartum psychosis is tragic, and thankfully rare. According to national data, it occurs in an estimated 1 in 500, or 0.2 percent of deliveries in the United States, with child-killing outcomes at 4 percent. Yet the Lindsay Clancy supporters are very vocal about identifying with her, presenting it as a “There but for the Grace of God go I” moment. This proverb more commonly describes a once successful man now sleeping on a park bench—a reversal of fortune, or a series of bad breaks that could happen to anybody. Where is the wisdom in presenting themselves, and all women, as possibly being one hormonal crisis or bad diagnosis away from killing their families?

It’s clear the supporters have a strong emotional bond with the Clancy woman. Perhaps, they unconsciously connect with the killing. It stems from another comforting misdirect: “It’s Not About Abortion you know, It’s About Choice.” So nobody’s at fault. Like Clancy. A chain reaction of flawed logic has led to the inevitable. “Abortion isn’t really killing” has finally blossomed into “Killing isn’t really killing.”