The Unanswered Questions of Commonwealth v. Carter

In 2014, a case of suicide fundamentally altered the law when a young woman was charged and convicted for causing the suicide of another person. Conrad Roy was in the process of taking his life by filling his truck with poisonous fumes when he experienced doubt and called his girlfriend, Michelle Carter. Carter told Roy to “get back in” the truck and complete the suicide attempt, which he did. Leading up to that moment, Carter had supported Roy’s desires to end his life and even pushed him toward it, texting and asking when he was going to “do it” and shaming him for deferring action. Carter was charged with involuntary manslaughter by the state of Massachusetts and convicted. Before Carter’s conviction, a person could not be held legally responsible for another person’s suicide. The charge of involuntary manslaughter is unsatisfactory upon closer examination and Carter’s case demonstrates the need for a new set of legislation and charges that accommodate the internet age.

Most coverage around this case focused on the question of whether an individual can case the suicide of another. “Can words kill?”, articles around the country asked. However, the fixation on this question has distracted from the other facets of this case. I enter this argument accepting the idea that words can kill and one can be responsible for another person’s suicide in order to delve into with what Carter was charged. 

The State charged Carter with involuntary manslaughter, but the facts of her case make it an inappropriate charge because Roy’s death was not unintentionally caused. A conviction of involuntary manslaughter requires the prosecution to prove that an “unlawful killing [was] unintentionally caused by wanton or reckless conduct” [1]. An example would be someone killed in a drunk driving incident. The justification being that the person driving under the influence didn’t intend to harm another person, but the nature of their decision to drive while intoxicated was “wanton” and “reckless” because of the risks one knowingly takes when choosing to drive after drinking. Carter’s case is fundamentally different. Helping a suicidal person plan out their suicide, urging them to initiate it, and then demanding they complete it cannot be considered “unintentional.” The plethora of evidence demonstrated a clear pattern of behavior, establishing Carter’s complicity and encouragement of Roy’s suicide. Her consistent actions made over a long period of time demonstrate clear intention and Carter never disputed the sincerity of those texts and messages. So if her behavior was intentional, does that situate her actions within the purview of voluntary manslaughter? Not really. 

The State should not have charged Carter with voluntary manslaughter because the circumstances around Roy’s death don’t mitigate Carter’s actions. While laws differ between states, the premise of voluntary manslaughter cases is that an individual commits a killing intentionally, however there are mitigating factors. On face, the Carter case could fall within these bounds. However, voluntary manslaughter is predicated on the premise that any reasonable person would act in this way if placed in the same emotionally intense circumstances [2]. Carter’s actions can hardly be considered the actions of a “reasonable person”. Most individuals, if confronted with the situation in the Carter case, would have attempted to stop Roy. A reasonable person would not have told Roy to get back in his truck and complete his suicide. Carter’s actions are difficult to empathize with and hard to imagine many people recreating them. So, if Carter isn’t guilty of manslaughter, is she guilty of homicide? Probably not.

While a charge of homicide requires that the perpetrator have “malice”— which fits with Carter’s case— the indirectness of her actions are difficult to reconcile with homicide. Charging Carter with homicide would be taking an even stronger stance that individuals can be responsible for the suicide of another. The rhetoric of the prosecution during the trial reflected a belief in the responsibility of Carter for Roy’s death. The prosecution made a central part of their argument during the trial that, without Carter, Roy would not have completed his suicide attempt and lived, something the defense didn’t sufficiently dispute. Had Carter not told Roy to get back in his truck, he likely would not have completed his suicide attempt. Further, because Carter’s case was committed with malice, it makes the charge of manslaughter fundamentally inappropriate. Malice is defined as acting without“justification or excuse” to commit something unlawful which situates Carter’s actions closer to homicide than manslaughter. However, many individuals may understandably feel uncomfortable grouping Carter in with individuals who have committed a murder by their own hand. While homicide may be an unsatisfactory answer, it isn’t the only one. 

Two options remain: classify causing another person’s suicide as homicide—which requires the prosecution prove that the Carter-equivalent know their actions are unlawful [3]— or create an entirely new charge. Charging individuals who cause the suicide of another with homicide doesn’t feel reactive enough to the problems Carter’s case was introducing. The creation of the internet and its ability to facilitate constant communication forces society to adjust. Technology and social media have allowed for horrific cyberbullying that can and does result in suicide. The law has yet to catch up. The separate closeness that texting or direct messaging can create should catalyze the creation of a new category of accountability separate from manslaughter and homicide. In Carter’s case, the prosecution pointed out how the near-constant communication between Carter and Roy made it nearly impossible for Roy to disconnect and escape Carter’s influence. The implications of this inescapable influence legitimizes the criminality of using this influence to compel another person to take their life. 

The internet enables new forms of malice, and legislation needs to catch up. The internet isn’t waiting. Neither can we.

References

[1] Commonwealth v. Life Care Ctrs. of Am., Inc., 456 Mass. at 832

[2] Commonwealth v. Walden, 380 Mass. 724, 728 (1980). Nota bene: the original wording refers to an “ordinary person” although jury instructions have altered that to be “reasonable person”.

[3] Commonwealth v. Goudreau, 422 Mass. 731, 737 ¶ 4 (1996)

Ali Medina

Ali Medina is a member of the Harvard Class of 2022 and an HULR Staff Writer for the Spring 2021 Issue.

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