Jan 5, 2016

Some of you may be aware that for several months now, I have been writing a weekly column in the Moundsville Daily Echo. My main purpose in writing the column is to give the readers some insight into how I think and the things that are important to me.  By doing so, folks should get a pretty good idea of how I am likely to handle issues that will come before me if I am successful in my campaign to be elected Circuit Court Judge in the Second Judicial District.  I would much rather respond to direct questions about particular issues, but the rules that apply to candidates for judicial office say I should avoid addressing specific factual scenarios.  The powers-that-be don’t want judicial candidates “pre-judging” issues that may come before them.  That certainly makes sense.

There are, however, exceptions to every rule, and a case from Texas that I recently read about pretty clearly qualifies.  A few years ago, a 16-year old child of wealthy parents by the name of Ethan Couch went out to party with a group of his friends.  They stole several cases of beer from a local Wal-Mart to supply the party, which also apparently included some illegal drugs.  After getting sufficiently trashed (his BAC was .24, three times the legal limit), Couch climbed behind the wheel of his Dad’s Ford F-350 pickup and headed down the road.  Unfortunately, a few miles down that road an SUV driven by Breanna Mitchell had gone into a ditch in a minor single-vehicle accident.  A mother and her young daughter, seeing the disabled SUV, had stopped to offer help, as had a local youth minister.  Four innocent people in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Driving the truck at 70 mph in a 40 mph zone, Couch plowed into the SUV.  He killed the four people mentioned previously, and injured nine others, including two who reportedly sustained traumatic brain injuries.  Couch was charged with “intoxication manslaughter” in the four deaths.

Couch admitted guilt, and his trial moved to the sentencing phase.  He faced 20 years in prison, and prosecutors sought the maximum sentence.  Defense lawyers argued that Couch should not be punished because he didn’t understand that his actions were wrong.  They bolstered the argument with testimony from a prominent psychologist, who said that because his parents had taught him that “wealth buys privilege” and that because he had been raised in an environment where there were no negative consequences for his bad behavior, Couch could not properly distinguish right from wrong.  The psychologist cleverly coined the term “affluenza” to describe a condition where a child is so rich, so privileged and so spoiled that he can’t understand that driving drunk is the wrong thing to do.  And if all of that doesn’t have your mind spinning, let’s add this one last fact:  the judge bought it.  Ethan Couch, whose drunken joyride killed four people and injured nine others, was sentenced to 10 years of probation.

Let’s forget for the moment that it is patently ridiculous to suggest that anyone in this country does not understand it is wrong to drive drunk, and that doing so can have grave and irreversible consequences.  Did the judge (who, by the way, retired shortly after handing down this sentence) really not realize that in imposing such an absurd sentence he was only making Couch’s “affluenza” even worse?  The judge buys an argument that this kid’s wealth has caused him to believe he can get away with anything, and then reinforces that belief by slapping him on the wrist as punishment for killing four people.  I still can’t wrap my head around it.

One might at least hope that this tragic incident would cause Ethan and his parents to re-evaluate his life.  Not hardly.  After serving a little over a year of his probation, Ethan and his mother packed their bags, held a bon voyage party and ran off to Mexico, where they hoped he would be free from the onerous terms of his probation.  Fortunately, they were caught and he now faces additional charges.  Let’s hope that this time he draws a judge who still has a firm grasp on life in the real world.

“Affluenza” in my courtroom?  Not likely.  I got the vaccine.