A Biography of My Father, Graham Glancy, Upon his Induction to the Presidency of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law

I sat with my aunt and uncle, Linda and Robert Glancy, at the kitchen table of their home in North London's Hampstead Garden Suburb. As usual for Sunday lunch, smoked salmon, egg salad, liver pâté and bagels featured prominently, and though I can't quite recall, it was likely raining. “Well, Graham started swimming when?”, my uncle asked himself, after I questioned him about my dad's athletic career. Further he continued: … I can't remember exactly how old he was, perhaps, 9 or 10. And he was quite short and very broad and very plump. Our father was always worried that he couldn't swim properly. It was always something he was slightly embarrassed about. He was quite a poor swimmer. So, he decided that the time had come for us to be taught properly. So, he took us down to this local swimming club in North Manchester. And we were put in the beginner's pool. There were three pools in all. One for the really good swimmers, one for the average swimmers and one for the novices. We were put in the novice's pool. And the head coach, who was an international standard coach, came into the beginner's pool, just to have a look, and saw Graham swimming. We were just swimming up and down, in a rather pathetic way because we hadn't been taught properly how to swim at all, and she said, “Who is that one?” to the chap or the coach who was running the beginner's pool. And he said, “Oh, I don't know. He is some kid who turned up tonight. He's absolutely hopeless, isn't he?” And she said, “No, that's an international swimmer….” And I suppose, within about two or three years, he was a British junior international. And so, that launched his swimming career. And from then on, it was a regimen of strict training: training before school, training after school, training on the weekends. And one thing that Graham, as an athlete, which I think marked him out from just about every other swimmer that I knew, is that he actually preferred the training to the racing. He loved the training and was never happier than plowing up and down a freezing cold old swimming pool in the center of Manchester at 6:30 in the morning in the winter when most people would be only too pleased to be out of there and in bed … because he just took to the training.

My father would go on to become the youngest member of the British swim team, compete in the Commonwealth Games, and swim alongside the likes of Mark Spitz and Gary Hall as part of the University of Indiana's famed team of the early 1970s. The devotion to training mentioned by my uncle has become integral to my father's professional career and will likely prove to be one of his major lasting contributions to forensic psychiatry as a discipline. My father has dedicated his work and in fact, himself, to the training and betterment of forensic psychiatry as an intellectual and professional community. It is for this reason that it seems appropriate for this biography to come from the voices of that community. Let this biography stand as a collective account of my father's impact on, and commitment to, psychiatry in the law.

My father studied medicine at the University of Manchester, where he worked in England's first secure Butler unit, under Dr. Angus Campbell. In 1981, he came to Canada to spend a year at the Clark Institute (now the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health). As Dr. Mark Ben Aron, his then supervisor described it, “He probably taught me more than I've taught him. It was a really good year, and I guess he must have found it so because he decided to stay, which was a great benefit to us all.” My father would then go on to become the Director of the Postgraduate Psychiatry program at the University of Toronto and further, the Chief of the Forensic Service at the Clarke Institute of Psychiatry, where he was instrumental in developing and running the Sex Offender Treatment Program and the Relapse Prevention Group.

My dad is now Assistant Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Toronto and Adjunct Professor on the Faculty of Law and Assistant Clinical Professor at McMaster University. His publications include the first scholarly article on psilocybin mushrooms and psychosis¹; the introduction of the battered-woman syndrome defense in Canada²; a series on confidentiality of mental health assessments, interventions, and records^3,4; a series of evidence-based reviews on psychopharmacology and psychological treatment of aggression^5,–,7; and the development of the Canadian Psychiatric Association's position on duty to warn and protect.⁸ In addition, along with my mother, Cheryl Regehr, he co-authored a book entitled Mental Health Social Work Practice in Canada published by Oxford University Press (now in its second edition).⁹

A renowned forensic psychiatrist in Canada, his notable cases consist of Russell Johnson, Mark Bertholt, and Chris McGee. These high-profile, historical cases all involved sexually sadistic murderers who were in a maximum security psychiatric hospital. He was also the designated defense psychiatrist on the Paul Bernardo case (the Ken and Barbie murderers who captivated and repulsed the nation) and an expert in R v. Swain, a seminal case that led to new laws regarding criminal responsibility in Canada, including the removal of the phrase “… to be kept at her majesty's pleasure.” These laws are still in effect today.

Further, my father was President of the Canadian Academy of Psychiatry and the Law (CAPL), for which, along with Dr. Bradford, he wrote the bylaws and ethics guidelines,^10,11 instituted the CAPL newsletter, and organized the first of 20 annual conferences. In 2000, he was awarded the Bruno Cormier Award for outstanding contributions to Canadian Forensic Psychiatry.

When I spoke to our long-time family friend, and one of Canada's leading criminal and human rights lawyers, Marlys Edwardh, she had the following to say about his contribution: Kait, your father has a thoughtful ability to enter into the assessment process of some of the most difficult accused in the system and bring the tools of forensic psychiatry to bear in understanding their mental state, their motivation, but also their essential human dignity. And I consider that a challenge in itself to have that balance. I also believe, number two, that your father is someone who is deeply committed to what I'm going to call a justice model for treating those people found not criminally responsible. He is not the kind of soul who is going to cater to, pander to risks that are not palpable and real. He eschews the kind of political discussions around just keeping people detained to lock them away. That's not, in any way, shape or form, where he comes from, even though it is where this government comes from because I think there is a general and substantial recognition that psychiatry plays a real role in providing a network and framework for which people can be treated. They can get better. And they can be released. Your dad is very much a part of the group that promotes that view … this is a modern way of looking at diversion for mental health issues. It is something that I know your father is supportive of. These kinds of institutional changes will change the interface between the mentally ill and the criminal justice system.

Building on this sense of modernization proposed by Ms. Edwardh and further to the goal of refining of the field, my father and Dr. Bradford began working to establish forensic psychiatry as a subspecialty in Canada in 1995, a designation that finally became recognized by the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada in 2012. In 2013, as a result of his tireless dedication to developing the inaugural examination, 125 psychiatrists from across Canada took the examination to be permitted the designation of forensic psychiatrist. As a result, my father has been named a Founder of Forensic Psychiatry by the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Canada and Vice-Chair of the Examination Board of Forensic Psychiatry. It is believed that the creation of forensic psychiatry as a subspecialty will have a large impact on the discipline in Canada. Ms. Edwardh had additional comments on the prospects: Back when I was starting out as a criminal defense lawyer, there were only experts in forensic psychiatry because they practiced in the area. And there was no training. There was no specific certification. So, it's a huge step to recognize it as a specialty. And I feel quite strongly that that will enhance the value of the profession. And it will be a challenge to everyone to maintain their credentials up-to-date in the field. And I think it will advance, also, interest in the science that goes behind it. And that is another very important thing. We like evidence-based decision-making in our world … Your father will, undoubtedly, develop this in the field of psychiatry. There is much more of a commitment today to the neutrality of expert testimony than there was 20 years ago. Today, experts have to be extremely mindful that their duty is to the courts as an expert. And they are not a hired gun for either side. And that is an important lesson as all sorts of young people go forward to make careers in forensic psychiatry. They probably testify more than any other expert in the criminal justice system. It's a very significant thing.

Helping to create training where there was once, as Ms. Edwardh says, “no training,” or at least limited training, has been a recurring theme in my father's career, as he has dedicated himself to improving the practice of forensic psychiatry. In 1988, he became involved in teaching University of Toronto law students to examine and cross-examine forensic psychiatrists. I asked Julie Hannaford, a renowned family lawyer in Canada with whom my father now organizes the Trial Advocacy course at the University, about the importance of teaching lawyers to examine and cross-examine expert witnesses. She responded with the following: Lawyers, and particularly those lawyers who choose to be advocates in the court, are often most challenged by expert witnesses, and they are often most significantly challenged in the area of forensic psychiatry. The reason is that the concepts are difficult and often the evidence that a forensic psychiatrist gives is very laden with expert judgment. So, for a lawyer, the ability to, first of all, help a forensic psychiatrist explain their testimony in an examination-in-chief or direct examination is a very significant skill. Secondly, the ability to learn how to take on a forensic psychiatrist and to have a reasonable grasp of forensic psychiatric concepts to do it is a very significant skill that you can give to, not just law students who are studying trial advocacy, but to lawyers who are studying trial advocacy. Graham's point has always been that when you're dealing with experts in a law school context, in a trial advocacy course, the education that is provided is not just to these students who are learning how to examine and cross-examine a psychiatrist, but also to the forensic psychiatrists who are being examined and cross-examined. Because the skill of presenting in court, even though forensic psychiatrists do that as their stock and trade … the skill of presenting in court is a life-long skill that is always under development with forensic psychiatrists. I think Graham is very sensitive to that. He has been very keen and very involved in education programs, as you probably know, not only for the Trial Advocacy students at U of T law school, but also within his own profession.

Indeed, in 2005, my father was instrumental in organizing a workshop for the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law (AAPL), where Ms. Hannaford lectured on presentation in court and, in particular, skills on dealing with cross-examination. The first year of the session, Ms. Hannaford recalls anticipating an attendance of about 10 or 15. However, she explains being “gobsmacked as we watched tens of people, dozens of people, filing into the room.” In addition, “it was a very good program and, perhaps, novel in that it gave a hands-on experience opportunity to forensic psychiatrists in APPL to practice giving evidence and practice being cross-examined and workshop how to most effectively deal with cross-examination.”

My father has been involved with AAPL since 1988, when he first lectured on families of fire setters in San Francisco. Since then, he has been a regular presenter at APPL meetings, speaking on topics ranging from assessment and treatment of sex offenders, to treatment programs for physicians accused of sexual misconduct, to the psychopharmacology of violence. He has also been an associate editor of this Journal. Moreover, he has been committed to the development of AAPL from an administrative point of view through his roles as Chair of the Sex Offenders Committee, Chair of the Psychopharmacology Committee, Chair of the Program Committee, a Council Member, the Secretary, Vice-President, President Elect, and currently as President.

However, it is not just through these structured roles that he has contributed to the association, but also through his interpersonal relationships with colleagues and the AAPL community at large. My father has a selfless drive to see others succeed, as he believes that all success in the field leads to the betterment and strengthening of the discipline.

In fact, when I reached out to both psychiatrists and lawyers alike to write this biography, no one even seemed to know that he was to be president of APPL. He just never thought to tell anyone. When I first spoke to Julie Hannaford, she explained: It is so typical of Graham that no one knew. I didn't know. And certainly, no one in my circle of trial advocacy teachers was aware that Graham had been appointed or was becoming the head of AAPL. And that's just because Graham never talks about himself. He is so “un-self-aggrandizing.” I don't think that's a word Kait, but I do think that that is a term that is applicable to Graham. He is assiduous in his concern for others and he routinely places everyone before himself, to the point that he fails to ever sing his own praises, even when that is completely deserved. So, that's why he is an honor to work with, as well as his prodigious intelligence and insight and, also, his kindness. I just am delighted to say these things about Graham because he never gives people an opportunity to sing his praises. And I'm really glad that you are doing so.

My father's partner of 30 years, Dr. Mark Ben Aron, stated, “Without exaggeration, we have been office-to-office for at least 27 of those 30 years, so that's got to tell you something … and we're still excellent friends.” Further, Dr. Ben Aron suggested that beyond the professional and academic achievement and beyond the commitment to the discipline at large is, on a personal level, my father's continuous dedication to family and our neighborhood community. Dr. Ben Aron: “Regularly saying, look, I've got to go because I've got to get to the karate with Dylan. Or I'm coaching Dylan's water polo team, we've got to be out at the soccer pitch, Dylan is involved in that. So, you can get the sense of the kind of very busy, eclectic person he is.” From the time my brother Dylan was four years old to last year, when he turned 22, my father coached his soccer team as well as his rugby and water polo teams; my dad represented the University of Toronto's water polo team in 1981. They also trained together for karate, from my brother's early childhood until Dylan was second-ranked in Ontario as a junior. Though my brother has now started his PhD and has since left karate, my father has continued in karate and attained his 3rd Dan level (sensei), which enables him to continue to teach the children in our neighborhood. Even when Dylan took up boxing while in university, our dad started training in the sport so that he could understand and help his son. Though Dylan has since given up competitive boxing, the two of them still meet up to train once a week. Dylan explains: Our boxing coach kept telling me, “You have the reach advantage … you're more powerful, faster and more mobile …,” and Graham said “Wait, what do I have?” Our boxing coach thought about it for a second and said “Dogged determination, I guess.”

In all aspects, my father has emphasized dedication and determination. In 2007, having undergone multiple knee operations and in need of a new hip, he watched in the stands supporting my brother at the World Shito-ryu Karate Championships in Lake Placid, New York. As, he observed the Masters (over age 45) warm-up, he suddenly decided that he could, and indeed should, fight them. Though it was suggested that, due to his injuries, he perhaps should not compete, he would have none of it. He borrowed my brother's ill-fitting and “cup-less” equipment, ended up winning the first three rounds, and found his way into the semifinals until he was kicked in the groin by a 45-year-old soldier and was, in his words “flattened.” Nevertheless he got up, continued, and won the bronze medal.

In sport and in life, my father has stressed the importance of determination, learning, and training. To this day, whenever one of the children is at home (or an unfortunate, unknowing boyfriend of mine), everybody awakened at 6:09 a.m. for the family workout; an additional workout is often added in the late afternoon; and I wouldn't recommend joining us on a family holiday unless you are prepared for an even more grueling regimen. For my dad, sport is a metaphor for the way one should operate in all aspects of life: you work hard, and above all, you always remain loyal to the team.

In London, after lunch my aunt poured the tea and opened a fresh pack of Bendicks Bittermints. My uncle took a sip of tea and then smiled: The other thing I remember quite well is the English school's long distance open water championship in a lake called Rudyard Lake. It was a long-distance swim in the lake. It was probably two or three miles long, this lake. So, it was quite a long swim and very cold, of course. And Graham, even though he was only 12 at the time, was entered by our school and he just won it by miles. He was so far ahead of the rest, you could hardly see them behind him. When he finished the race and he got out … they had a sort of porta-cabin there for them to change in. He went into the porta-cabin and there was a young lad there who had given up early and gone back to the porta-cabin. And he saw Graham come in, he said, “Oh, did you give up, as well?” And Graham, was a very modest and a very shy boy. And he didn't say anything to this lad. He didn't deny it and he didn't agree with it. He just sat there, beside the boy huddled up in his towel. A few minutes later, they called out on a loudspeaker for him to come forward to get the winning trophy. And this boy's face … his jaw dropped. He couldn't believe it. That little kid, and Graham really was very small for his age and five years younger than most of the competitors, and he was up against these great, big, tall 18-year-olds, and he had murdered them by several minutes and not mentioned it.

In many ways, this story is a good summation of my father's life personally, athletically, and professionally. His emphasis is on the cohesion of community. Rather than “sing his own praises,” as Julie Hannaford suggests, “he is assiduous in his concern for others.” With this sentiment, he cares about creating new standards in forensic psychiatry that will serve all practitioners in the discipline. He seeks new, modern ways of thinking and educating that will improve the field for psychiatrists, legal practitioners, and the public they serve. It is for this reason that he has worked with both lawyers and forensic psychiatrists to hone their skills to aid interactions and understanding between the professions; it is why he helped create the Canadian Academy of Psychiatry and the Law and fought for forensic psychiatry as a subspecialty in Canada, and it is fundamentally the impetus behind the large role he has played in The American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law over the years and why he now looks toward the presidency of the Academy. Because, at the heart of it all, my dad, the “quite short and very broad and very plump” kid from North Manchester, in the depth of winter, wrapped, shivering in a towel, will sit beside you … even if you didn't quite finish the race this time round.

• © 2015 American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law