It used to scare me no end when I had young people living in my house, that they would do something that would propel them instantly from teenagers into “juveniles,” a world peopled with judges, prosecutors, attorneys and probation officers and chock full of documents in impenetrable English. It doesn’t take much to cross the line from being a regular teenager to “juvenile,” that ominous coverall term for delinquent, hoodlum, bonehead, ne-er do well — take your pick.
How easy is it? I get flashbacks every now and then: I hear a young man, until then considered intelligent, gleefully describe how he and his friends, equally intelligent, responsible young men, sneaked into a movie without paying. Money was not an issue. A dare was. It would be fun. Should they do it? Could they do it? They could and did.
Did they consider they could have been arrested? Gone to court? Ended up with a record of some sort as “juvies”? What were they thinking? Clearly, some thinking had gone on, but of the kind that keeps parents up at night. What else might they take it into their heads to do? An argument that ends in a fistfight or worse? A pack mentality so strong they wouldn’t think of breaking away?
Young people get into trouble with the law for all kinds of reasons. Many times, they become entangled in the “juvenile” world for no inherent criminal tendencies but because they did not — maybe could not — think through the potential ramifications. The capacity to project forward into the future and anticipate consequences beyond the immediate situation often seems oddly touch-and-go.
As a nation, we have been through a political phase in the past two decades or so during which young offenders were more likely to be seen as smaller versions of adults and thus not deserving of any more consideration than adults when they commit violent “adult” offenses such as murder and rape. Juveniles were not left behind when both federal and state legislatures got tough on crime. No coddling of “predatory” youth. In many states, Ohio included, children as young as 14 years old can be hauled before adult court.
Since the 1990s, the number of offenses for which a youthful offender can draw time in prison has increased. So have the offenses for which trial in adult court is mandatory. The U.S. Supreme Court removed the harshest punishment when it narrowly ruled against the death penalty in 2005 for inmates who committed capital offenses when they were younger than 18 years.
I would like to think that the harsh phase — based on the notion that if you are old enough to do the crime, you are old enough for whatever comes after — is behind us, that a better understanding of adolescent development and crime has evolved, and that as a result, our judicial process is more responsive to the differences between the adult and juvenile mentality.
One reason for this hope is House Bill 86, a new law that takes effect in Ohio at the end of this month. For all the crackdown on youthful offenders in the recent past, the tougher penalties and the hue and cry about seeing that justice is done, the state lacked a uniform standard and process to determine whether juveniles were competent or not to stand trial. The new law defines the standards for determining the competency for trial of juvenile offenders and how to proceed when they are deemed incompetent.
Unfortunately, the practice has been to apply the adult standards for establishing competency, to minors using “juvenile norms” (somewhat like assuming a smaller dose of an adult prescription will suffice when a medication is not specifically designed and tested for children). The problem is the “juvenile norms,” are not understood, applied and interpreted consistently in judicial proceedings around the state. To be sure, in some cases, it doesn’t take a Perry Mason to determine who is unfit to stand trial. A history of mental and emotional disorders and developmental delays, for example, is a giveaway.
The greater difficulty is to assess the level of understanding a juvenile brings to the complex legal process, even if assisted by the most competent counsel. The capacity to take in all the various roles during a trial, to understand enough of the risks (say, of waiving a legal right) and consequences to assist credibly in the defense, such cognitive maturity does not progress in a linear fashion. How many parents have thrown up their hands in disbelief at the lapses in maturity (“I can’t believe he did that”) of an otherwise intelligent teenager?
If a juvenile is up against a stiff penalty, the least you’d expect is that the state would have a means of ensuring that he or she understands the proceedings and can assist capably in his or her own defense as the law requires. The new law is a welcome step toward a more credible justice.
Ofobike is the Beacon Journal chief editorial writer. She can be reached at 33-996-3513 or by email at lofobike@thebeaconjournal.com
