The legal team of accused murderer Luca Mangione has signalled a psychiatric defence for the upcoming state trial, a move that will no doubt send shivers down the spines of efficiency-minded observers. One cannot help but view this through the cold lens of the bottom line: such defences are notoriously expensive, often involving protracted expert testimony and jury deliberation. The taxpayer, as always, is left holding the bag.
British legal experts have weighed in, with a tone of weary resignation. The inherent inefficiency of the criminal justice system, they argue, is laid bare when a defendant’s mental state becomes a bargaining chip. This is not about truth or justice, but about gaming the system. The market for expert witnesses, after all, is a lucrative one, and the state’s coffers are the ultimate client.
One senior barrister, speaking on condition of anonymity, noted that psychiatric defences are the gilt-edged bonds of the legal world: seemingly secure, but prone to volatile shifts in valuation. The risk of a hung jury or a successful insanity plea adds a layer of uncertainty that makes a mockery of fiscal responsibility. The state’s budget, much like a poorly managed portfolio, suffers from such volatility.
Moreover, the capital flight of public trust is a concern. When defendants invoke mental illness, the public’s faith in the system’s ability to deliver efficient justice erodes. This is not a market correction; it is a bear market for social contract, with no central bank intervention in sight.
The economic implications are clear: every hour of court time, every fee for a psychiatrist, every day of incarceration pending evaluation, is a drain on productive resources. The opportunity cost is staggering. Funds that could be directed towards infrastructure, education, or deficits are instead consumed by the legal machinery of a single trial.
Of course, the defence will argue that compassion and due process demand such expenditures. But to the City mind, this is little more than moral hazard. If the state signals that mental health excuses criminal behaviour, it incentivises a race to the bottom. Why not claim trauma for every misdeed? The system lacks the proper hedging mechanisms.
Some might call for reform: perhaps a fixed-price tariff for psychiatric defences, or a cap on expert fees. But the legal profession, like any cartel, resists market forces. The result is a inefficient allocation of resources, a drag on the nation’s balance sheet.
In the meantime, the Mangione trial will proceed, a case study in the diseconomies of the justice system. The only winners will be the lawyers and the experts, who will extract their rents regardless of the verdict. The rest of us can only watch and hope for a swift resolution, though history suggests that psychiatric defences rarely lead to timely outcomes.
If there is a lesson here, it is that the bottom line must account for the irrationality of human behaviour. In financial markets, we price in risk. In criminal justice, the risk is priced by the taxpayer, without a say. That is the real crime.
