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Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Autism and a Capital Case

In The Politics of Autism, I discuss interactions between the justice system and autistic people.

Maurice Chammah at the Marshall Project:

Robert Roberson, who faces execution in Texas on Oct. 17, is the latest death row prisoner to see a glossy campaign to save his life. He was convicted of killing his 2-year-old daughter Nikki Curtis in 2002 on a theory of “shaken baby syndrome.” A growing chorus, from the lead detective in his case to novelist John Grisham, is arguing that he is innocent and Curtis’ death, while a tragedy, was not a crime. He’d be the first person ever executed based on shaken baby syndrome, even as the diagnosis faces growing scrutiny in the courts.

But another fact about Roberson deserves more attention to make sense of his story — his diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder.

From the moment he showed up at the hospital with his daughter turning blue, his case reveals the ways the criminal justice system can fail people with diagnoses like autism. Roberson’s execution has been scheduled amid a wave of attention to this subject from researchers, journalists and support organizations, who offer guides for autistic people and their parents on how to interact with police.

My colleagues have reported on how people with autism experience prison, for example, as well as encounters with police, which can turn deadly when officers misinterpret their behavior as suspicious. Some lawmakers are trying to reduce the risk of escalation and tragedy. For example, when looking up a license plate, Texas police may now see an alert indicating that a driver may have difficulty communicating.

But Roberson’s case shows what can happen even before the police get involved. When he took his unconscious daughter to an emergency room in the small east Texas city of Palestine, in 2002, a nurse found it strange that he’d gotten her dressed before leaving their house, according to court records. Later, as he showed detectives around his kitchen, he paused to make a sandwich. Former homicide Detective Brian Wharton recalled finding Roberson’s affect disconcerting, saying, “He’s not getting mad, he’s not getting sad, he’s just not right.”

At Roberson’s 2003 trial, prosecutors used those details to portray him as callous and remorseless. But at a 2018 appeal hearing, psychologist Diane Mosnik said autism helped explain his deviations from social norms (like the sandwich), the misalignment of his feelings and expressions (the flat affect), and his reliance on scripted behavior (dressing his daughter). She found his social problem-solving skills were equivalent to those of an 11-year-old, noting his struggles to understand sarcasm and sincerity.

All of this, Roberson’s lawyers now say, led nurses, doctors, police, prosecutors and jurors to distrust Roberson’s story — that his daughter fell out of bed — possibly making them more likely to see evidence of abuse in complicated medical findings.