A lot of people confidently opining on the Lindsay Clancy trial have clearly not watched any of it. Witness after witness, including her ex-husband, has described how she was in crisis: intensely paranoid, scared to be alone, repeatedly begging for help. The prosecution has had a *very* hard time rebutting it. Some of the government's cross-examinations have been painful to watch, like when prosecutors asked her Catholic ex-MIL—who testified in Clancy's defense—if she was aware "murder is considered a mortal sin." At times they've been desperate. If Clancy is acquitted by reason of insanity—and I think there's a chance she will be—a lot of people are going to be shocked and outraged. But this is quite literally why the insanity defense exists: because the law understands there is an obvious and meaningful difference between a sane person plotting out a murder, and someone who would otherwise never kill but does so because of a disease outside of their control. No, that doesn't mean any normal person thinks murdering children is excusable—an accusation so profoundly stupid and bad-faith that I'd expect it from someone with the critical thinking skills of a 12-year-old. It means people recognize the distinction above. Nor does it mean Clancy would go free, which a strangely large number of people seem to believe. She would be confined to a state hospital—which is a lot like prison in many ways—where she could plausibly remain for the rest of her life. The biggest question here is where, not if, she will be locked up. It's a horrible case. Her children are the victims. What she did to them is beyond appalling. I feel awful for her husband, who has lost so much. And yes, I also have compassion for Lindsay Clancy, who did something terrible when it seems she was very ill, and whose life—no matter what the jury decides—is forever broken in so many ways. All of these things can be true at the same time.