Earlier this month, the Supreme Judicial Court heard arguments in the case against Michelle Carter, the Plainville teen facing manslaughter charges stemming from the 2014 suicide of 18-year-old Conrad Roy in a Fairhaven parking lot. Roy used a generator to kill himself by carbon monoxide poisoning in his truck. When investigators found Roy’s body, they retrieved scores of text messages from Carter, who was 17 at the time. Some of the texts are downright chilling—not only did Carter evidently help Roy research carbon monoxide poisoning, but she also egged him on. At one point that fatal night she urged him to “get back in” his truck when he had second thoughts.
The case has not yet gone to trial because of challenges raised by the defense that call into question the legitimacy of the prosecution. First, Carter’s lawyers argue she should not be charged as a “youthful offender,” a harsh designation in the Commonwealth that could expose her to 20 years in prison if she is convicted of manslaughter. Second, they claim the evidence against Carter is legally insufficient for a number of reasons, including that Carter’s actions never crossed the line from protected speech into an affirmative criminal act. Those are intriguing issues—and the SJC has its hands full.
I’d like to home in on the basic premise of the case: Is manslaughter the right charge and, if the case goes to trial, what obstacles will the prosecution encounter? The key issue is not so much whether Carter should be charged with a crime—she should—but rather which one. Bristol County prosecutors obtained an indictment from a grand jury on involuntary manslaughter, a crime below murder on the hierarchy of homicide liability. The state’s theory appears to be that she recklessly or wantonly caused Roy’s death: that her words prompted him to follow through with his suicidal instincts; that she disregarded this risk when she pressed “send” on her phone and disseminated her communications; and that this behavior was a vast departure from what a reasonable person would do.
If the SJC allows the manslaughter charge to proceed, I suspect the prosecution will manage to prove mental state—that her behavior was reckless in light of Roy’s fragile state of mind, Carter’s awareness of his depression, and the abhorrent tone of her texts. But it’s not a slam dunk for the state. I assume the defense will put on evidence about contemporary texting practices among teenagers to show that Carter’s actions, while despicable, were not as far outside the norm as one might envision.
Other obstacles loom for the government. Most notably, in crimes like manslaughter, prosecutors must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant caused the result, in this case Roy’s death. This could be a high hurdle to surmount because he was alone in the car at the time; the defense will surely argue that he acted voluntarily and would have completed the act even without her involvement. In legal jargon, the defense could insist she was not the “cause in fact” or “but for cause” of Roy’s death. Likewise, the defense might assert that Carter was not the “proximate cause” because Roy’s own behavior was an intervening act that broke the link between Carter’s texts and the suicide. These claims could gain traction with a jury.
An added complication is that Massachusetts, unlike 39 other states, does not actually have a law on the books making it a separate crime to assist in another person’s suicide. The absence of such an offense in our criminal code spurred prosecutors to be creative in the Carter case, leading to the manslaughter charge that some might deem a possible overreach. Other options, like the lesser crime of reckless endangerment, might have struck prosecutors as too lenient.
At bottom, prosecutors are trying to put a square peg into a round hole. The Massachusetts legislature should craft a narrowly tailored statute that prohibits people from using coercion to assist in another’s suicide. Cases like Michelle Carter’s will surface again, especially as the phenomenon of cyber-bullying intensifies. Although a carefully constructed law would not serve as a panacea to the ills of cyber-bullying and coercive behavior that leads to suicide, it would at least allow for an appropriate (and measured) prosecutorial response.
Daniel S. Medwed is a professor of law at Northeastern University and a legal analyst for WGBH News.
