Elina Tetelbaum '07

Within minutes of my arrival as the “criminal law and journalism intern” at the Forensic Panel, the chairman, a pscyhiatrist, called me into his office. Surrounded by walls displaying dozens of accreditations and certifications in forensic psychiatry, he leaned over his desk with a commanding posture, and said, “Lina, it is absolutely imperative that you go and rent the movie “Paper Clips.” I stared at him blankly. Incomplete thoughts rushed in and out of my head. “Paper Clips? Isn’t that a movie about the Holocaust? What does that have to do with forensic psychiatry?” I was confused. I had expected him to champion the cause I had come to the Forensic Panel to pursue: making our criminal justice system less arbitrary through the creation of the Depravity Scale. I had expected him to impress upon me the urgency of the need to bring about accountability to the way terms such as “heinous,” “atrocious,” and “cruel” are used in sentencing statutes across America. I had expected him to tell me what work has been done in the past, and to set expectations for my work in the future. In fact, I had expected him to tell me just about anything save to watch the movie “Paper Clips.”

My confusion was apparent and prompted him to explain. He described to me that “Paper Clips” is a documentary that tells the story of the students and faculty of Whitwell Middle School in rural Tennessee, who committed themselves to honor every soul lost in the Holocaust by collecting one paper clip for each individual exterminated by the Nazis. Despite the countless obstacles the school faced, including the unprecedented magnitude of the effort and the fact that most of the students had previously been unaware of the Holocaust, their dedication yielded amazing results. The town of Whitwell, with a population close to 2,000 people, was able to build a memorial filled with 11 million paper clips (commemorating 6 million Jews and 5 million gypsies, homosexuals and other victims of the Holocaust). The takeaway was suddenly very clear to me: dream big, and never accept no for an answer. I saw that despite being young and rather unfamiliar with many of the duties I’d be asked to perform, there was nothing I would fail to do, if only I worked hard and dreamt even harder.

The chair’s mention of “Paper Clips” was meant to empower me in my journey to increase participation in the Depravity Scale research effort. The research effort was launched in response to a glaring ambiguity in the criminal statutes of 39 states. These statutes empower a judge or jury that finds a crime "heinous," "depraved," or some other synonym for the word "evil," to mete out more severe sentences for that crime – sentences including the death penalty. Yet, as there are no standardized distinctions for what makes a crime "heinous," judges and juries are left to decide sentences on the basis of involuntary or even deliberate prejudices. If there is one thing I have learned only too well this summer, it is that these prejudices continue to manifest themselves to individuals whose most "heinous" act may be the color of their skin or the emptiness of their pockets. To combat this potential for arbitrariness in sentencing, the Forensic Panel is spearheading the development of the Depravity Scale, an evidence-based instrument that uses public consensus to standardize the specific intent, action, and attitude components of a crime that distinguish it as "evil." Data from the project will develop a legal standard for "evil" crimes that is evidence-driven – and completely separated from a person's background, race, or political beliefs. While it may at first seem like an unrealistic goal— as there is so much variation in what different people deem depraved or vile or heinous behavior—our preliminary findings show that there is overwhelming consensus on which intents, attitudes, and actions are especially depraved. Once this consensus is codified, jurors will have the guidance that they so desperately need to determine which crimes stand out as the worst of the worst.

The bulk of my responsibility was to encourage public participation in a confidential web-based survey that is ongoing at http://www.depravityscale.org. As many states have shown great interest in putting the Depravity Scale into legislation, it is imperative that as many members of the American community are represented in this study as is possible. In order for our findings to be truly representative, I needed to reach out to people from all walks of life, to ensure that no person misses out on this unique opportunity to have a voice in shaping and improving our criminal justice system.

While working on the Depravity Scale, I was extremely fortunate for the support I was given and the autonomy I was allowed. While the Forensic Panel staff is small, it is spirited. Its leader instilled in me the confidence to be fearless; to proceed in any way that I felt would be effective; to never doubt that a just cause is a worthy cause. The constant exchange of ideas that occurred during the office’s project board meetings, led by our sharp and attentive project manager, brought momentum to our work and reinvigorated our conviction. She fostered a collaborative, intellectually vibrant atmosphere, and never allowed us to forget our long term goals. During weeks that our outreach efforts were not particularly successful and the response rate was low, she would always make me feel that my contribution was greater than the sum of the responses received. What she valued the most, as she termed them, were the “diagonal approaches” that we would think through together. The effect that we had on each other’s ways of thinking is what will truly make a difference in the long run.

It quickly became apparent to me that in a society where time is invaluable, people are cynical, and every organization has its own agenda, it is extremely difficult to get people to participate in a project — even if it’s in their best interest to do so. There were many groups underrepresented in our research, and it was my responsibility to launch a massive effort to reach out to African Americans, Hispanic Americans, Asian Americans, and residents from very rural communities, among others. After all, many of these groups whose voices were not being heard in our research are the very groups who should benefit from an evidence-based Depravity Scale. Despite the fact that there was no pecuniary gain to be made from the project, and notwithstanding that the research effort is being privately paid for in its entirety, I couldn’t help but feel like I was “selling” something when trying to convince people to participate. It was a strange sensation to know that I was working in the public interest, but still felt like a telemarketer. I contacted political advocacy groups, juror interest groups, pro- and anti- capital punishment groups, newspaper editors, African American advocacy groups, professors, students, and anyone else who would listen to why it was in everyone’s best interest to participate. Oftentimes, I was met with enthusiasm and support, with offers from people to do everything they could to spread the word and give us some form of coverage or endorsement. Other times, I could barely get past the receptionist to explain our project.

While there were moments of frustration, my outreach efforts resulted in what was undoubtedly the most inspiring event of the whole summer. One Wednesday afternoon, I came across a conference put on by the American Association for Correctional and Forensic Psychology (AACFP) entitled the “National Debate on Prisons and Punishment.” The conference was to be held that very Friday. Among the topics that the panels were scheduled to address during the moderated debates were whether lengthier sentences are effective, the pros and cons of prison privatization, how to make a correctional reform programs work, whether prisons are helping ethnic communities, how sentencing can be made less discriminatory, and whether a major goal of prisons should be preparing criminal offenders for re-entry back into communities. The panelists included the representatives from The Sentencing Project, The Human Kindness Foundation, the ACLU National Prison Project, Prison Reform International, Prison Policy Initiative, and Prison Legal News, along with victim’s rights advocates, journalists, ex-convicts, wardens, and the past President of the American Correctional Association. Certainly, there could be no greater forum to introduce and promote the Depravity Scale research project than a group of individuals fascinated with issues of psychology and law, especially as they relate to sentencing policy in America and abroad.

I contacted the President of the AACFP, and told him about the Depravity Scale effort. He was so enthused with it that he offered me my own literature table to distribute information about the research. The Forensic Panel office is very low on staff, but everyone immediately agreed that this opportunity was not one to be passed up. We spent the remainder of that Wednesday preparing materials to distribute, along with concise and engaging ways to communicate the importance of our research. Upon my arrival at the conference, he was kind enough to revise his Introductory Address to mention the Depravity Scale and encourage all the conference attendees to participate.

The debate was absolutely fascinating. What struck me was that this vast array of conference attendees — which included lawyers, judges, parole officers, wardens, victim’s rights advocates, authors, economists, journalists, ex-convicts, and artists — had a common purpose: making our criminal justice system fairer and less discriminatory. While all parties had a different take on what is the most effective way to do this, I have very rarely seen such consensus on the nature of the problems in our criminal justice system. It was very inspiring to see so many people working in the public interest, but from such drastically different point of views. Just a few months back, I had never even realized that there was a community of individuals dedicated to correctional reform; now, here I was committed to their cause, engrossed by their methodology, and adding my own thoughts to their discourse.

The relationships that I established during the conference proved to be invaluable to my mission of increasing participation in the research effort; some individuals forwarded the www.depravityscale.org URL to their colleagues, while others took the time to strategize with me the best courses of action for future outreach efforts. Throughout my efforts, I became increasingly appreciative of people who were willing to take time out from their schedule to lend an ear. It is all too often forgotten that many of us are working toward goals that are highly complementary; the furthering of one person’s agenda increases the likelihood of accomplishing another’s. Unfortunately, people get so caught up in the particulars of their own specific mission that they neglect to share resources that would help bring about our shared mission of working in the public interest. Perhaps the largest take away I have from my time at the Forensic Panel is to be extremely open-minded about opportunities for collaboration among groups with similar missions. There are far too few resources, and far too many people in need, for there to be any self-righteousness about the worthiness of one effort over another.

My work with the Forensic Panel fulfilled my long-time desire to go out on a limb and pursue my passion of psychology and law, immersing myself in a world that I am highly unfamiliar with. However, as I am an economics concentrator, I never envisioned that this summer experience would make any impact on my academic plans. It has. Harvard undergraduates are given unrivaled opportunities to conduct research, and having committed myself to the long-term goal of bringing accountability to criminal justice systems, I would like to write my senior thesis in a way that would benefit the Depravity Scale research effort. I am hoping to analyze the manner in which criminal justice codes abroad tackle issues of depravity, and intend to take a class on the economics of crime. While I am not sure exactly what my thesis will be, as there is still much I have yet to learn, my summer experience has given me tremendous focus and fodder. During my last week of work, I found Arthur Liman’s name in our Forensic Panel database. I have no idea why it was there, but I couldn’t help but think that even in this large world, individuals concerned with the public’s best interest somehow manage to find one another.