There is something radically askew in the aftermath of the Lindsay Clancy mistrial, and it burned me from the beginning even before I could name what it was.

Then came the final stretch of testimony.

Clancy was never diagnosed with psychosis by the doctors who actually treated her before the killings. She admits she strangled her three children. Her defense doesn’t dispute that. The fight was over whether she should be held criminally responsible.

After 38 hours of deliberation across seven days, the jury couldn’t agree.

Not an acquittal. Not vindication.

You wouldn’t know that from the pink people.

Hundreds of grown adults showed up outside that courthouse wearing pink — the favorite color of Cora, the 5-year-old daughter Clancy strangled — with pink bows and signs reading “Believe,” “She Needed Help,” and “Peace For Lindsay.”

A 5-year-old girl is dead.

Her mother killed her.

And somehow the little girl’s favorite color became the uniform for people rallying around the woman who did it.

What in God’s name are we doing?

The prosecution presented experts who found no evidence of psychosis in the records they reviewed. They pointed to inconsistencies in Clancy’s accounts and argued she understood right from wrong.

I believe Lindsay Clancy misled people. I believe she told doctors enough to get help while withholding enough that they never understood what she was capable of doing. I believe the psychosis explanation became considerably more useful after Cora, Dawson, and Callan were dead than it apparently was to the clinicians treating her beforehand.

That’s my conclusion after watching the evidence.

And I’m entitled to it.

But the pink people apparently heard something else.

And suddenly, Lindsay’s agency disappeared.

That’s particularly........

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