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Gay OAKES
What Causes Crime?
By Theodore Dlrymple
The most prominent New Zealand
case now undergoing exculpatory reinterpretation is that of a woman
called Gay Oakes, currently serving a life sentence for the murder of
her common-law husband, Doug Garden, father of four of her six
children. She poisoned his coffee one day in 1994, and he died. She
buried him in her backyard: ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and Doug
Garden to dug garden, as it were.
The case has become a cause
célčbre because Doug Garden was by most (though not all) accounts
a very nasty man, who unmercifully battered and abused Gay Oakes for
the ten years of their liaison. Oakes has now written and published
her autobiography, to which is appended a brief essay by her lawyer,
one of the best-known advocates in New Zealand, Judith Ablett-Kerr.
The lawyer, who is fighting to
get her client's sentence reduced, argues that Oakes was suffering
from what she calls "battered-woman syndrome" and therefore could not
be held fully responsible for her acts, including poisoning. Women who
undergo abuse over so long a period, the argument goes, do not think
clearly or rationally and must therefore be held to a different
standard of conduct from the rest of us.
There is no doubt, of course,
that women abused over a long period are often in a confused state of
mind. At least one such woman consults me every working day of my
life. But the idea that a battered woman suffers from a syndrome that
excuses her conduct, no matter what, has a disastrous logical
consequence: that battering men also suffer from a syndrome and cannot
be held accountable for their actions. No one, then, is individually
responsible for what is done. This is no mere theoretical danger: I
have male patients who claim precisely this and ask for help in
overcoming their battering syndrome. Of the many indications that
their behavior is under voluntary control, one is that they ask for
help only when threatened with a court case or a separation, and
resume their destructive conduct once the danger has passed.
The battered-woman-syndrome
concept is uncompromising in its rejection of personal responsibility.
The truth is that most (though not all) battered women have
contributed to their unhappy situation by the way they have chosen to
live. Gay Oakes's autobiography clearly, if unwittingly, illustrates
her complicity in her fate, though she artlessly records the sordid
and largely self-provoked crises of her own life as though they had no
connection either with one another or with anything she has ever done
or omitted to do.
Even in prison, with a lot of
time at her disposal, she has proved incapable of reflection on the
meaning of her own past; she lives as she has always lived, in an
eternal, crisis-ridden, unutterably wretched present moment. Her life
story reads like a soap opera written by Ingmar Bergman. And the more
that people choose—and are financially enabled by the state—to live as
she has lived, the more violence of the kind she has experienced will
there be. The lessons to be drawn from her case are myriad, but they
are not those that the liberals draw.
Born in England, Oakes went to
live in Australia in early adolescence. Though not devoid of
intelligence, she chose to follow the crowd in not taking school
seriously, and she married thoughtlessly at the age of 16. The
marriage didn't last ("we weren't ready for it"), and by the age of 20
she had two children by different men. She claimed to love the second
of the men, but nevertheless alienated him by a casual affair with yet
another man: her whim was law. Then, still in Australia, she met her
future victim. One of her first experiences of him was watching him
smash up a bar in a drunken rage.
Before long, by her own account,
he was habitually drunk, jealous, and violent toward her. He
repeatedly cheated her of her money so that he could gamble, told
outrageous and transparent lies, and was lazy even as a petty
criminal. He broke his promises to reform time out of number.
Nevertheless, the question did not occur to her (nor has it yet
occurred to her, to judge from her memoirs) whether such a man was a
suitable father for her children.
Four years into their
relationship, by which time she had had two of his children, he
abandoned her for his native New Zealand. Some time later, he wrote to
say that he had abjured alcohol and to acknowledge that he had treated
her very badly. Would she now rejoin him in New Zealand?
Although she had received
innumerable such promises before, although he had abundantly proved
himself to be worthless, lazy, unreliable, dishonest, and cruel—if her
own account of him is to be believed—she nevertheless entertained his
proposal. "All this time, Doug had blamed me for his behaviour and his
admission that he was responsible for his own actions had me fooled,"
she wrote. "I still loved him and I really believed he had finally
realised that the way he had treated me was wrong. I struggled with
myself over whether to go to New Zealand. . . . In the end, I had to
admit to myself that I missed Doug and wanted to be with him."
Having poisoned her loved one
six years and two children later, she found he was too heavy to bury
without help from a friend. Halfway through the burial (which she
revealed to no one else, until the police found the body 14 months
later), she feared that she and her friend might be caught in
flagrante and was seized with misgivings. "I was terribly sorry that I
had got Jo [her friend] involved," she recalled. "I had thought we
should be just pushing him over a cliff somewhere."