Any lessons from Virginia Tech?

THE VIRGINIA TECH tragedy did not happen because of an obvious or single cause, and future such events will not be prevented by an obvious or single measure. Yet, this horrific slaughter of innocent students predictably raised excruciatingly difficult questions and set off vigorous debates on topics ranging from legal and university policies for handling suicidal or otherwise deeply troubled students to policies regarding gun regulations on and off campus to the role of the media in broadcasting the killer's self-aggrandizing tapes and photos designed by him to ensure his immortality. However, those who wish to use Virginia Tech to help them to achieve major policy changes will be footing themselves if they believe any such initiatives will transform the threat of this catastrophe recurring.

There simply is no mix of policies that will prevent a determined killer from repeating such crimes in universities, places of employment, or anywhere else in the U.S. However, because we cannot hope to prevent all such tragedies does not mean that we should not take this opportunity to examine seriously how we might--even marginally--reduce the risk of repetition. Moreover, it is important to consider the possibility that the chances of the incidence of aberrant violent behaviors may be increased by the decisions of major media outlets on what to put on the air in coveting the story of a mass murder.

Whatever one thinks of the killer, it is clear that he had serious problems--and for a very long time; yet, the mental health system was not able to identify him as the one out of many severely troubled individuals who actually would commit mass murder. The most consistent fact reported about Seung-Hui Cho was his uncommunicativeness, as was reported from a number of sources, including The New York Times, which printed a biographical piece and summary of events:

* Cho's disinclination to talk to others was manifested early in life in Seoul, South Korea, a behavioral pattern over which his mother agonized. He was so noncommunicative at Virginia Tech that some students believed him to have been a deaf mute.

* He had been bothering female students at Tech so much that they complained to campus police. Yet, anomalously claimed that Cho was "bothersome, but not threatening."

* He told his roommates that his girlfriend was a supermodel who lived in outer space and, he would, at times, introduce himself as "Question Mark," maintaining that it was the "persona of a man who lived on Mars and journeyed to Jupiter."

* After instant messaging a roommate with suicidal threats, Cho had been sent by the Tech campus police to a mental facility off campus, where it was recommended that he be committed involuntarily. A judge then ordered him to a psychiatric hospital, wherein he was diagnosed "as mentally ill but not an imminent threat [and he was allowed] to undergo outpatient treatment," which he may or may not have completed.

At times in American history, public policy over involuntary commitment easily would have permitted the mental health system to remove a person like the Virginia Tech killer from the university and society. While, in this case, one can, of course, only wish that this had been done, the fact is that many nonviolent troubled people were warehoused for life by such a policy. In recent years, such commitments have been curtailed dramatically, allowing for the vast majority of people with severe problems to function in society. However, the inability of the system to be able to predict with any degree of accuracy the rare individual who will commit mass murder has left us with Virginia Tech.

Universities are forced by law to walk a fine line in dealing with disruptive and unstable students. Expelling suicidal students has led to lawsuits. Yet, falling to notify parents that their student has suicidal tendencies also has led to lawsuits when the student actually does commit suicide. Virginia law prohibits a public university from dismissing a student "solely for attempting to commit suicide or seeking mental health treatment for suicidal thoughts and behaviors." Given these constraints, it should not come as a surprise that a dangerously homicidal student might slip through the cracks. So, what is to be done?

Universities should use existing commitment laws; some do so more frequently than others. This must not--and will not--always result in a commitment, but will afford the mental health professionals an opportunity to talk with apparently dangerous students. Potentially, this also will provide a buffer for vulnerable college populations, as well as curtail the near-total isolation of dangerous-to-others-and-self people like Cho.

Universities should enforce their own rules and regulations consistently and forcefully. If a student violates "stalking" roles, for example, he or she should be disciplined or removed from the campus community after appropriate processes are followed. Obviously, an expelled student might, in some cases, become even more enraged and convinced that the university was bent on his or her destruction. Sometimes, though, one hopes, such an expelled student merely will go away.