The basic point of contention concerning Mark Chapman’s motivation stems from his popular image as a lunatic. There’s no question that Chapman suffered from mental illness, specifically depression. And his behavior between the night of the murder and his eventual disposition was downright odd. But with respect to the psychoses and neuroses that characterize borderline personality disorders, we only have evidence of that after the fact. In other words, Chapman didn’t display any hint of schizophrenia until the murder—and even the expert witnesses testifying in the case disagreed with each other whether or not Chapman in fact had psychotic tendencies afterward.

At the same time, many of Chapman’s past actions were reinterpreted to fit the narrative of a paranoid schizophrenic. In many cases, the tales of his past were distorted. In some instances, they were provably false. Other aspects are true, but at the same time could indicate any number of things.

In order to assess Chapman’s state of mind, we really have to go where his expert witnesses did, and examine his entire life to that point. Defense witnesses delved into his interpersonal relationships and determined that Chapman was a loner, a social maladroit who had difficulty making friends. As one of his shrinks, Dr. Daniel Schwartz, stated in a Rolling Stone interview dated 15 October 1981:

Well, as far back as he age of nine or ten, Mr. Chapman had difficulty in socializing or relating with his peers. Instead, he would spend much of his time alone, engrossed in an imaginary world.

Dr. Schwartz’ observation affirmed earlier lay descriptions. In a Newsweek article dated 22 December 1980, Tom Matthews, Pamela Abramson, Holly Morris and Frank Maier wrote, “Mark David Chapman was a loner in flight from the barren world of Eleanor Rigby, and he lived in an odd little dream.”

Chapman’s attorney, Jonathan Marks, arranged an informal jail meeting between Chapman and psychologist Dr. Lee Salk. At the time, Salk was researching a book on the relationship between fathers and sons. Although not retained as a defense witness, Salk bolstered the lawyer's belief that Chapman’s relationship with his father had become the source of Mark’s flight from reality, a theme he reiterated in a June 1982 McCall’s piece (“John Lennon’s Killer Talks about His Father”), and subsequently furthered by Jack Jones and later writers.

What emerges from these investigations into Chapman’s family life is a portrait of a son of an abusive father who barely acknowledged his existence. As Chapman told Dr. Salk:

My father was never very emotional; I don’t think I ever hugged my father. He never told me he loved me, and he never said he was sorry. We just never ever really got along. He smashed my head down in a plate of spaghetti one time.

Not only did David Chapman allegedly show indifference to his son, Mark, but he beat his mother, Diane, as well. Moreover, Diane supposedly withdrew from David, and clung to Mark for emotional support—almost to the point of sexual (or at least psycho-sexual) intimacy. There were reports of parental fights that would drive Diane from the master bed into Mark’s.

Mark Chapman responded to this by withdrawing into a world of fantasy and drugs, mainly booze and pot. Chapman’s childhood fantasies, however, would become of special interest to his expert witnesses, who, as much as they could, drew a parallel between these imaginings and the actual shooting of John Lennon. Again, Dr. Scwartz:

Initially, it [Chapman’s fantasy world] consisted of thousands of what he called ‘little people’ living in the walls of his living room. [Said Chapman,] ‘I had control over their lives. They would worship me like a king.’

At times, he likened this relationship even to that of man and God. The little people’ in this grandiose delusion were quite real to him, and it made him [feel] very good to feel loved by them.

In addition, this kingdom also satisfied his need to discharge any aggressive feelings that he might have, which was an emotion, I am afraid, that he never really learned to mollify or deal with effectively or constructively. Specifically, if any of these ‘little people’ angered him, he would wreak havoc on them by pushing the imaginary destruct button, which was on the arm of his sofa.

What one sees in this line of thinking is something akin to the infamous Stockholm Syndrome--Chapman identifying with a bullying father who was next to impossible to please, and imagining himself with similar power to reward and punish. Like the fictional Holden Caulfield of J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye, Chapman presumably took on the role of the exterminator of phonies, deciding who should live and who should die. In essence, he expanded his self-view as the meter of justice from the king (later president) of little people to the arbiter of worthy and unworthy celebrities.

After his arrest, Chapman exhibited many signs of repeated psychotic episodes. For one thing, he claimed that demons tortured him regularly. He also told Marks that God had told him to change his insanity plea to a guilty plea. Marks understood this as Chapman’s belief that he had actually heard the voice of the Almighty, a clear sign of schizophrenia. Marks therefore pressed the court to rule Chapman incompetent to make such a plea, based on the delusions of conversing with imaginary voices.

Were Judge Dennis Edwards to find that Chapman indeed suffered from auditory hallucinations, then he would have to vacate the plea. But Chapman, apparently sensing the ramifications of his earlier conversations with his attorney, changed his tune in front of the court:

[Deputy District Attorney Allen] Sullivan: When you say it is God’s decision [to change pleas], and I ask this advisedly since certain representations have been made to me by Mr. Marks, did you hear any voices actually in your ears?

Chapman: Any audible voices?

Sullivan: Any audible voices?

Chapman: No, sir.

Sullivan: Before you made this decision did you indulge in any prayer?

Chapman: Yes, there were a number of prayers.

Sullivan: After you prayed did you come to the realization which you understand to come from God that you should plead guilty?

Chapman: Yes, that is His directive, command.

Judge Edwards, himself a deeply religious man, interpreted this response to indicate, contrary to Marks’ understanding, that Chapman wasn’t suffering from hallucinations when he said that God told him to change his plea. Instead, the judge understood it in the context of God revealing Himself through meditation or prayer, something that occurs within religious thought all the time. Nevertheless, Judge Edwards left open the possibility that additional psychiatric tests might contradict his findings, and gave Marks the opportunity to argue incompetence after they came back.

Almost all the arguments of schizophrenia are based in the defense assertions and by public incredulity that anyone other than a madman could have committed this crime. Not surprisingly, four of the psychiatrists utilized by the defense all characterized Chapman as a paranoid schizophrenic, with one, Dr. Dorothy Lewis, classifying him as a psychotic schizophrenic. Of course, Marks knew full well that his client fired a gun at the decedent, and that the decedent died of bullet wounds. Even if Marks suspected (and there’s no indication that he ever did) his client were brainwashed into killing Lennon, the attorney would have to have realize that he stood little chance of making a case for that in court.

The only hope Marks had of preventing the conviction of his client was an insanity defense. Likewise, the expert defense witnesses almost certainly realized the importance of establishing Chapman’s craziness in court. It’s in this context that we should understand the genesis of the Mark-as-madman hypothesis. It is also in this context that we should understand Sullivan and Edward’s rejection of the insanity notion, especially since the prosecution’s expert witnesses testified to Chapman’s sanity. Dr. A. Louis McGarry found Chapman had “A narcissistic personality disorder….not mentally ill.” According to Dr. Martin Lubin, Chapman “…suffered from a borderline personality disorder…without being psychotic.” Dr. Emmanuel Hammer simply called him “a narcissistic and immature personality,” while Dr. Stone noted that Chapman was “a little depressed, and a little off his food.”

Examination of Chapman’s sanity thus results in a he-said-she-said type of argument that we will table for the moment. The focus here should be on the validity of the assessments, particularly the ones finding him schizophrenic, and especially those that take into account his life before the incident. After all, incarceration does change a person, especially since she or he has left their normal environment into a particularly violent and/or structured one. Worse, there aren’t as many witnesses to confirm or dispute the expert impressions.

In this particular case, we have many reasons to question the validity of Chapman’s image as an angry, lone nut.