The massacre at Virginia Tech this week was a horrible incident that, like many other horrible incidents in our past, has given rise to questions about our society, and about the laws that are meant to protect us.
One area of concern has been the role that Virginia Tech itself should have played in stopping the shooting before it occurred. Questions have been raised about why others were not informed about Cho Seung-Hui’s condition, or even about why he was allowed to stay on campus at all.
What obligation do colleges have to warn students about a classmate who suffers from mental disabilities? How far is it acceptable for institutions of higher learning to go in the name of protecting others?
I discuss those questions below.
I’d like to start by noting that I’m unsure about how much traction this issue has been gaining in the general public. I do know that former roommates of Mr. Cho’s are upset that they were not informed of his mental disabilities. The issue of what obligation a college or university has to inform the student body about students with serious mental disabilities has also been one that has come up in discussion within my own household following this incident. I have decided to write about this issue here, out of fear that the Virginia Tech shooting may cause the idea of revealing private medical information to gain traction with the general public.
The Virginia Tech incident, while truly horrible in and of itself, is made all the worse by the fact that, according to numerous classmates and teachers who knew Mr. Cho, the "signs were there" for a very long time that something like this could occur. In 2005, two female Virginia Tech students complained to the local authorities that Mr. Cho was bothering them. Shortly afterwards, he was sent to a mental health center, in a failed attempt by the courts to have him involuntarily committed. Finally, last fall, an English teacher complained about Mr. Cho’s writing, but was told by the associate dean of students that there was "no record of problems," and that "nothing could be done." Indeed, according to an April 19th article in the New York Times, this seemed to be the dominant attitude, as:
For all the interventions by the police and faculty members, Mr. Cho was allowed to remain on campus and live with other students. There is no evidence that the police monitored him, nor is there any indication that the authorities or fellow students were aware of any incident that pushed him to his rampage.
It is easy to understand why those impacted by an event such as this would demand to know why action was not taken sooner to protect them, or loved ones, from Mr. Cho. This is especially true in light of what seems to be a long list of failed chances to act on Mr. Cho’s condition.
However, in any free society, we must raise questions about how acceptable it is to curtail someone’s right to medical privacy, or their access to higher learning, in order to protect the public.
For this situation, a review of the specific facts is helpful.
While Mr. Cho was indeed brought to the attention of the local authorities for "bothering" two women at Virginia Tech, neither woman, according to the New York Times article, actually filed charges against him. Indeed, according to the police, one of the women merely described his efforts at contacting her as "annoying."
The same day of the second complaint, an acquaintance of Mr. Cho’s told the local authorities that he might be suicidal. Afterwards, it was the local authorities, not Virginia Tech, that referred him to a mental facility off campus. Involuntary commitment was recommended, and Mr. Cho was sent by a judge to St. Albans Psychiatric Hospital for evaluation. However, Mr. Cho’s evaluation there did not go the way that those of us, operating with the benefit of hindsight, would expect:
"Affect is flat and mood is depressed," a doctor there wrote. "He denies suicidal ideations. He does not acknowledge symptoms of a thought disorder. His insight and judgment are sound."
The doctor determined that Mr. Cho was mentally ill, but not an imminent danger, and the judge declined to commit him, instead ordering outpatient treatment.
Given the evaluation, outpatient care should not be unexpected. The state’s standards for involuntary commitment stipulate that:
The examining doctor or psychologist has to convince a local magistrate that the person "as a result of mental illness is in imminent danger of harming himself or others, or is substantially unable to care for himself," said Richard J. Bonnie, director of the Institute of Law, Psychiatry and Public Policy at the University of Virginia.
Again, in hindsight, we can see that this was the case with Mr. Cho. However, at the time, it was the opinion of a trained analyst that it was not the case.
So, what we had was a situation where Mr. Cho was clearly viewed as mentally ill, where there were signs that he had issues, but where he was viewed by the state itself as not being a threat to others.
The question that arises from this: Given the facts at the time, how far can anyone reasonably have expected Virginia Tech to go?
The "easy" answer, in light of what happened this week, is that Mr. Cho’s roommates (and possibly his classmates) should have been informed of his difficulties, or possibly even that he should have been expelled. But, such actions would have almost certainly run afoul of laws protecting both medical privacy, and the ability of the mentally disabled to access institutions of higher learning. Indeed, according to a second April 19th New York Times article:
Federal privacy and antidiscrimination laws restrict how universities can deal with students who have mental health problems.
For the most part, universities cannot tell parents about their children’s problems without the student’s consent. They cannot release any information in a student’s medical record without consent. And they cannot put students on involuntary medical leave, just because they develop a serious mental illness.
It might now be tempting for some to argue that such laws go "too" far... But, would changing them create the kind of world we want to live in?
Obviously, colleges and universities have an obligation to try to help anyone who seems to be suffering from mental difficulties. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, such institutions are dealing with people who have reached adult status, and cannot be forced into accepting treatment without adequate evidence that such measures are necessary. Often, such evidence will be hard to gather, or only clear in hindsight.
At the same time, we live in a society that places a great deal of value on concepts such as individual liberty, privacy, and equality. A system that would forcibly expose the medical information of the mentally disabled, even when it has been decided that they pose no threat to others, would seem to run against such principles. A system that would expel a mentally disabled student, despite the fact that it has been ruled that he does not pose a threat to others, would be even more abhorrent.
Requiring disclosure of mental problems to others on campus raises the question of when, exactly, it is appropriate to do so. Disclosure in cases where it has been decided that the individual poses a threat to others is all well and good, and, unless I misunderstand the law, taking action against such students is permissible. But, it had already been decided that Mr. Cho did not pose a threat to others, so such a standard would not have done any good with Virginia Tech.
As I have already pointed out, gathering evidence that a particular individual poses a risk can be extraordinarily difficult. In an April 20th New York Times article about attempts to diagnose Mr. Cho’s condition, Dr. Robert Hare stated that:
the nagging question is recognizing the traits that will lead to violence. Most warning signs often stand out only in retrospect, he said, and many of Mr. Cho’s traits were "not all that uncommon."
Therefore, unless I’m missing an alternative, the only standard that might have helped in this situation would have been full and complete disclosure of anyone, with any kind of serious mental issues.
When I was a college student, I knew classmates who had suffered from serious mental problems in the past, or who were still struggling with them while they were in college. Such illnesses were a very private matter, and one that they only disclosed to those they trusted. Furthermore, most such individuals, despite their problems, never created difficulties for those around them.
Whatever safety benefits might arguably stem from a system of full disclosure or monitoring, the impact against those who suffer from mental issues, in my opinion, would be much, much worse. The majority of them are not, nor ever will be, a harm to anyone else. Indeed, according to the diagnoses article, "the population of killers is very small," and it is currently unknown how many traits they share with the population at large.
Yet, I know how people think. Exposing the conditions of mentally disabled students would result in the students in question not being able to find any roommates, at all. It would result in their being stigmatized on campus, or perhaps even facing a defacto lockout from higher education all together, as popular prejudices make it difficult for colleges to accept them.
I have been asked, in response to my views on this, how I would like it if I ended up roommates with someone like Mr. Cho. I suspect that it would not be a pleasant experience. However, one must wonder if, perhaphs, the risk of having someone as terribly disturbed as Mr. Cho as a roommate – or on your campus – is merely part of the risk you accept by going to college in a pluralistic, democratic society, that’s committed to the ideal of giving everyone a fair shot. It is a small risk, and, sadly, one that the students at Virginia Tech found themselves victim to. But, what are the alternatives? And, how can they be acceptable to the kind of community that we’d prefer to live in?
I can’t claim to be the most qualified individual to speak on this. There are lawyers, psychologists, psychiatrists, law enforcement officials, and educators who can argue these points in finer detail, and in a more educated way. Nor can I deny anyone who was impacted by the massacre at Virginia Tech the right to their own feelings about how Mr. Cho should have been treated in the years prior to this horrific incident, or about how other institutions should handle people who are suffering from mental problems. I welcome anyone who has a valid and educated viewpoint on this issue to leave a comment, and share with me their ideas about how such situations should be handled. I also welcome comments about any inaccuracies that may exist in my understanding of the events surrounding Mr. Cho these past several years - especially comments regarding any actions that could have legitimately been taken to stop this tragedy from happening.
I can, however, express my own opinion. And my opinion is that I would prefer that we live in a society that puts as much emphasis as possible on protecting the autonomy and opportunity of those who are different, or who are facing problems.
The system failed with Mr. Cho, in a big way, that ended up coming to the attention to everyone in the country. Overreacting to that failure, however, might simply create a system that fails many people, every day, in ways that fall below the radar.