The accused killer, 48-year-old Jahmed Haynes, has cycled in and out of a psychiatric institution five times in 15 months, shuttled between jail cells and Western State Hospital in what officials call “competency restoration.”
Dalton’s killing horrified Seattle. Police say Haynes carjacked Dalton, forced her out of her vehicle and ran her over. Her dog was later found stabbed and dumped in a recycling bin.
Up to 94,000 competency evaluations are conducted annually on pretrial defendants.
Haynes—an eight-time felon with two strikes—was charged with first-degree murder, animal cruelty and assault.
But instead of moving toward trial, prosecutors have been trapped in a loop of mental “competency” evaluations. A state forensic psychiatric unit has repeatedly declared Haynes incompetent after he returns to jail from a psychiatric ward.
The legal process, mandated by US courts, is supposed to ensure a defendant understands the charges against them and can assist in their defense. In Washington State, however, the system has morphed into a revolving door:
- Psychiatrists assess if violent offenders are fit for trial, and have a vested interest in deeming the offender “unfit,” as the offender then requires “treatment,” justifying demands for increased psychiatric funding.
- If deemed unfit, the offender is sent from jail to a psychiatric hospital, where psychiatrists claim competency is “restored.”
- The offender is sent back to jail, where psychiatrists claim the offender has “deteriorated.”
- The offender is once again returned to a psychiatric hospital, thereby indefinitely delaying justice.
A growing chorus of critics say the process, as practiced, undermines public safety, prevents victims from securing justice and grants psychiatrists de facto power to halt prosecutions.
The system, indeed, gives psychiatrists sweeping influence over criminal prosecutions, placing them at the center of every pivotal decision: They assess whether a defendant is competent, recommend or administer involuntary drugging, and ultimately decide when—and if—someone is ever sufficiently “restored” to arrive to court.
Of course, psychotropic drugs are notorious for causing the violent and homicidal criminal conduct that psychiatrists pretend to “treat” as part of this revolving-door process.
Up to 94,000 competency evaluations are conducted annually on pretrial defendants, with psychiatrists finding approximately one-quarter—over 23,000—incompetent to stand trial. Families of the victims—even in the case of severe crimes—thus remain in limbo while the process can be made to drag on for years.
The question now facing the state of Washington—and the nation—is whether psychiatric prerogatives should continue to override the public’s expectation of safety and a family’s hope for accountability.
If nothing changes, more families will confront the same purgatory—the courthouse on one side, the psychiatric hospital on the other, and justice trapped somewhere in between.
Whether Washington reforms its competency regime may determine whether future victims wait months for answers, years for closure—or never see a courtroom at all.
