The forensic psychologist who lost his way.

Boundaries of law, ethics and personal morality -- how far should they really be pushed? An illustrative (and true!) story:

Prior to law school, I dated a forensic psychologist for several years. When we met, he was finishing up his post-doc at Harvard. I fell in love with his story more than with him. A product of the New York City foster care system, he had beaten the odds, gotten out of the ghetto, earned his Psy.D. and did his pre- and post-doc training at Yale and Harvard. Even better, my mother could tell her friends that I was dating a Jewish doctor from New York -- who could ask for more?

More than his story, I admired how much compassion he showed. He wasn't just someone who wanted to testify for a living, earning six figures a year by living on the witness stand as a hired gun for rich white folk. He wanted to help people. He wanted to make the world a better place. This is what was most attractive to me.

Sadly, however, my forensic psychologist boyfriend was not humble. Perhaps his deep-seated self-esteem problems had manifest in a way that made him act cocky and arrogant. Even though it annoyed me, I overlooked it, because he was one hell of a clinician.

He called me yesterday. The pretext of the call was to see how I was doing. The real reason: Forensic Psychologist had been cited in a Connecticut Appellate Court decision published on January 29. He wanted to brag. He also wanted to see if I had a copy. Lucky me, I happened to have my Connecticut Law Journal on hand, so I read him the pertinent sections of the case, having to do with -- get this -- predictive neglect in the context of a care and protection case. Predict neglect? Alas, that's a discussion for another day...

In the process of tooting his proverbial horn, Forensic Psychologist described his next venture to me: He wants to start a substance abuse treatment clinic for the wealthy teenagers. The elite. The folks with money. Specifically, the parents who want to give their kids a chance.

A chance at what? A chance at getting proper treatment regardless of its cost? That would seem almost plausible. But no. Forensic Psychologist was invited to speak at a meeting in a wealthy Connecticut suburb regarding a new city ordinance having to do with the underage possession of alcohol. The parents were outraged; they knew their kids drink, and didn't want the kids getting into trouble.

Thus, an idea was born. Forensic Psychologist wants to give these wealthy teenagers a chance to lie. Let me repeat:

A chance to lie.

By not accepting insurance, there will be no paper trail. So when these kids are asked on college applications, "Have you ever received substance abuse treatment?" they will be able to check the No box without the lie ever catching up with them.

The entire concept is repugnant to my sense of moral righteousness. I told him so. To which he responded: "Everyone lies. Besides, it's not as if I'm telling them to lie."

Plausible deniabilty by someone who should know better. He is giving them the vehicle by which to lie. He is complicit in perpetrating a fraud. He is essentially saying to these kids: "When you're rich, you can get away with lying. It's okay." By his actions, Forensic Psychologist is creating a wider chasm of social stratification. When I explained this to him, he saw nothing wrong. He honestly thinks he is doing a good thing; he truly has convinced himself that he is helping people.

But at what expense to society?